#putting it on the bookshelf behind my ribcage

[lichenes]

Dadfics? In my house??? REBRAND! IG!

CW: angst at the beginning, reader feels like shit

wc: 338

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____

You weren’t feeling the best. These past days you were stressed, tired and most of all lonely. It wasn’t other people’s fault, they were engaging with you just fine. The loneliness you were feeling was primal, the kind which makes you feel unwanted and most of all - paradoxically - exhausted with any human interaction.

You decided to go on a walk to clear your head, your legs leading you to your favourite bookshop. It was just next door to the cafe which Nina led. You thought you could go buy coffee there to look more alive, at least a little bit. 

You dismissed the idea. In your state you weren’t pleasant to look at and to talk to. You became groggy from all the bedrotting you were doing and your bones hurt. Everything seemed too much and the walk you were on was a stupid idea anyway… You tried to rid yourself of those thoughts and entered the shop. 

“Oh we’re clos-” Said Aziraphale raising his head from the book he was reading. When he saw you his gaze softened. You waved at him meekly, attempting to conceal the exhaustion and the obvious eye bags you were sporting. “Crowley! Look who visited us.” Crowley leaned out from behind a bookshelf, clearly torn away from something incredibly important. She smiled.

“What brings you here?” Said Aziraphale putting down the undoubtedly riveting book. You sighed. “I just needed to spend some time away from… I’m not even sure.” Crowley tutted. “Well that’s not good.” Aziraphale walked up to you and extended his arms towards you, inviting you in for a hug. He smiled and urged you. You put your head on his shoulder, wrapping your hands around his ribcage. 

Crowley was already planning the doomsday of whoever had you like this. He hated seeing you upset even if he didn’t show it. “How about tea?” Asked Aziraphale stroking your head. You nodded into the hug. 

You talked out your quandaries with them and life, if only for a moment… was serene.

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____ masterlist

[saylorsaysstop]

Cardigan | Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader

a/n: *sighs* told myself i was done writing fanfic, but apparently it's not done with me. and since i've gotten back into my Doctor Strange fixation, Stephen said I had to. so. i can't disobey him, right? doctor's orders? anyway. enjoy! – Saylor

pairing: Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader; third-person POV

warnings: slight 18+ content, not anything explicit

“Rough day?” Stephen’s lustrous voice calls out to her, watching as she absentmindedly chews on her lip. She hadn’t looked down at her book once, the spine opened to her last bookmarked page. she was deep in thought, fingertips picking the lint off her gray cardigan as she stared directly at the tall bookshelf, utterly dazed.

“Hmm?” she hums, now just catching the end of his question. She flicks her eyes up to him and sighs, noticing his icy blues dimming as he takes in the sight of her. 

“I asked if you’ve had a rough day seeing as you’ve barely touched your book,” Stephen responds, offering her his undivided attention. She slowly peers up at him and shrugs her shoulders. 

“I’m okay,” 

“Liar,” 

her eyes widen. “Excuse me?” 

Stephen chuckles, extending his hands. “Come here,”

“I don’t need comforting,” she argues. 

“I don’t think I asked you, sweetheart. come here. now.” his voice grows a little deeper and she knows not to disobey a command given by Doctor Strange. 

Putting her book aside, she walks over to her lover. he reaches out and immediately grasps her hips, turning her so that when he seats her on his lap, her back is pressed against his chest. He manspreads his thick thighs and allows her to rest her palms on top, his fingertips dancing vicariously to wrap around her throat where he tilts her head back and chuckles sinisterly. 

“What?” Stephen mewls into her ear, laying hot kisses over the side of her neck that have her craning her head to the side for more. 

“Nothin’,” She breathes, closing her eyes. “Mmm- feels good,” 

“Does it?” Stephen asks, a smirk evident in his voice. She rubs her knuckles into the tops of his legs, squirming as he welcomes his tongue into the assault. Her breath catches as Stephen lets his hands take over, running them up the fabric of the cardigan. He rests his large hands over her abdomen where his thumb teases the hem of her t-shirt, her gasp quiet but the loudest noise in the room. “Someone’s eager,” he comments, sucking a little harder on her sweet spot just behind her ear. 

Her breath comes in tiny hitches, her skin growing hot when Stephen finally slips his hands under her shirt to caress the warm skin of her belly. The noises that exit her mouth have the man behind her grinning wider. She jumps beneath the gentlest stroke of his finger across her ribcage. 

“Stephen,” she hums his name almost like a song. Her eyes close and her body relaxes nevertheless against his sturdy frame. 

“Just let it go,” Stephen sighs happily, wet lips meeting her cheek, the scruff of his goatee making her giggle. That giggle quickly formed into a loud moan when Stephen slid his hands underneath the cups of her bra, his rutted hands causing a flame to grow between her thighs. She whimpers as he teases her breasts, tugging and pinching at her nipples until they form stiffened peaks. The tent in his pants grew larger, she knew so by the sudden feel of his hard-on pressing and lightly grinding into her backside. 

“Oh,” she gasps when he takes both breasts into either hand, massaging and rolling them until she’s digging her nails into his legs. “Y-you’ve gotta stop or else we’re--STEPEHEN!” she yelps when one of his sinister hands makes its way unexpectedly into her pants and slips beneath her panties, her arousal already greeting his fingertips. 

“Again,” Stephen muffles into her hair. “You’re so eager. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already soaked, sweetheart. C’mon, let me take care of you.” He pats her thigh, telling her to get up.

She groans but the sound is quickly swallowed when he grabs ahold of her, hoisting her into the air. Her legs wrap around his waist as he holds her close, the portal being opened into their shared bedroom where he’d pleasure her out of her mind if it meant her bad day was cured.

[angelltheninth]

The Thief and the General

Pairing: Ruby x Weiss

Tags: secret relationship, kissing, cuddling, realization of feelings, slightly tsundere Weiss

Word count: 1.1k

Ao3

A/N: Posting this before the next ep comes out and my dreams of the two of them being secret lovers is broken.

Weiss sneaked as best as she could through the empty streets of the city, felling her father’s phantom gaze with every step. He wasn’t paying attention, at least he shouldn’t be at this hour, not way on the edge of the town anyway. Still the fear was always there, hanging over her like a ghost.

The slightest movement to her left made her jump and grip her rapier, ready for a fight.

“Easy.” Ruby’s cheerful voice sounded from the shadows before she stepped out, hands raised in mock surrender and that almost permanent charming smile on her face, “It’s just me Weiss.”

Weiss sighed in relief and crossed her arms, “Why were you sneaking up on me? I thought we agreed on the rendezvous point. Did you forget?”

Ruby tilted her head and leaned against the door of the seemingly abandoned home, “Of course not. How could I ever for get anything involving you.” Again, there was that smile. That damn smile that made Weiss blush the same color as Ruby’s clothes, the one that made her heart beat hard against her ribcage, the one that widened into a knowing smirk when Ruby noticed Weiss staring. “After you, my Queen.” Ruby bowed dramatically as she opened the door, the creaking sound making Weiss wince a little.

She rolled her eyes as she walked past her... friend. “Dolt.”

“Yup. But I’m a special dolt aren’t I?” Ruby closed the door behind the two and after making sure all windows are closed, turned on the dim light, illuminating the barren interior of their secret meeting spot.

Weiss had long gotten used to the minimalism of the places Ruby picked out for them. They were always abandoned, a little run down maybe, with a table for two in case any of them brought food or drinks, some blankets, a bookshelf, which was always barren but for some reason Ruby always found hideouts with one, and of course a bed for the two to sit on. This house was no different.

Weiss nodded in silent approval as she took off her coat, hat and glasses. She draped the long coat over the chair, mindful not to get it too dirty if she could avoid it. The hat and the glasses were placed onto the table next to each other along with Weiss’s gloved which she neatly folded on top of the hat.

Similarly Ruby took of her jacket and draped it over the other chair, but not before Weiss got a look at the blue rose symbol on the back. Seeing it always filled with with a sense of pride, she was the one who gifted the jacket to Ruby after all, back when they first became... friends.

Next was Ruby’s snow beanie and goggles. She shook her head, making her hair look even more wild and unruly than usual. This too did things to Weiss, and Ruby knew it. Part of why she liked doing it really. Once the unnecessary items of clothing were put away the two leaned their respective weapons against the edge of the chairs.

“So how was your day?” Ruby asked as she sat on the bed, legs kicking lightly and waiting for Weiss to join her.

“Same as always. Lots of... little inconveniences that needed taking care of. And you?” Weiss’s eyes were sharp on Ruby as she took her spot next to the bubbly Huntress.

“It would have been easier if I didn’t have robots following me everywhere I went. But you know, it’s good workout.” There was no bite to Ruby’s words even though Weiss expected it. She always expected it.

For Ruby to realize that she didn’t want to be around her anymore. That what ever it was that they had wasn’t worth the trouble. That she was better off without Weiss in her life. Which is why while Weiss looked forward to seeing Ruby like this, she also dreaded each meeting. She was waiting for the inevitable rejection and anger.

“The robots wouldn’t be necessary if you didn’t cause such a ruckus every damn time you go somewhere. My father isn’t a patient man. He won’t tolerate these acts of defiance for much longer.” Defiance. That was a funny way of saying break-ins, robbery, damages, and sneaking out against orders. Ok well the last one was all on her but still, Weiss had a feeling she was also on a time limit. “I...” She gulped, swallowing the fear in her throat, “I don’t know how many more time we’ll be able to do this Ruby. I really don’t.”

“Do you want us to stop?” Ruby slipped an arm around Weiss’s shoulders and pulled the heiress closer to her chest, a small, barely audible gasp leaving Weiss’s lungs upon impact. Silver eyes looked deep into blue ones, “Do you want me to stop?”

Weiss opened her mouth, eyes glancing at Ruby’s lips as she thought about the question. Was Ruby talking about the robberies, or their relationship. She didn’t know for sure, but she did have her answer, “No.”

Ruby’s soft lips were on hers before she could fully close her eyes, catching a shadow of a smile on Ruby’s face. Ruby’s hand cupped Weiss’s cheek while Weiss’s own hands gripped Ruby’s shirt tight, afraid that she would disappear from her otherwise.

“You know...” Ruby whispered, eyes half open looking into Weiss’s mirrored ones, “Yang always refers to places like this as our little love nest.”

Once again Weiss blushed crimson, this time hiding her face into Ruby’s chest.

“What? Isn’t it cute? A cute little spot for just you and me.” Weiss could practically hear Ruby smile wide, clearly very proud of her ability to reduce the great General into a blushing mess.

“No.” Weiss tilted her head upwards, her lips finding Ruby’s neck and biting. A little too hard. The Huntress yelped in surprise but stood still, “Oh don’t be a baby. Your aura will heal it.”

Ruby chuckled, “Yeah it better. Otherwise Yang is gonna come swinging at you.”

“And I’m sure I’ll be very scared when it happens.” Weiss bit again, in a different spot, and then again, until Ruby’s whole neck was covered in little red marks of various shades. As for Ruby, of course she returned the favor. However the marks she gave Weiss were always on places that would be covered up by clothes, the places no one would see but the two of them.

It was their little secret. As wrong as it was to love Ruby, it was also wrong to keep thinking of her than just a friend. And by the end of that night, Weiss knew that she was undoubtedly and completely head over heels in love with Ruby.

[writtenbyjos]

Spellbound: A Ghostly Tale, Chapter 6

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Three hours later having been to a costume store sold out of costumes, a jewelry store far too expensive and a dress shop that only sold dress sizes, two sizes too small, a melancholy Casper, Kat and Lucy trudged into the front doors feeling defeated. That is, until Casper had an idea.

"Come on, slowpokes!" Casper flew between wall after wall, and poked his head out to meet Lucy and Kat's tired faces.

"Well, sorry we're not as fast as you are, Casper," Kat chuckled.

"Yeah, we're definitely not as good as you are at walking through walls," Lucy said.

Kat glanced behind her shoulder and laughed at Lucy's snide comment while Casper rolled his eyes.

"God, how many stair cases can one house possibly have?" Kat said, out of breath while Lucy nodded in agreement.

"Twenty-eight, not counting the basement," Casper said cheerfully.

"Peachy," Kat groaned.

"Okay, this is the last stop," Casper floated over to a large, maroon bookcase.

"Thank goodness," Lucy said, pulling her hair out of her sweaty face. Her heart was banging wildly against her ribcage, and her legs burned.

"Now, all we have to do is find the right book…" Casper squinted and ran his finger over the series of dusty books lined up on the shelf. "Aha!" He said. "Dr. Bog's Big Book of Biology! A classic." He took the book out of its place and the bookshelf slid open to reveal, much to Lucy and Kat's dismay, another large set of stairs. Lucy felt her heart sink to her toes.

"More?" She said dropping her hands to her thighs.

"You have got to be kidding me," Kat said eyeing the narrow staircase.

"Hmm," Lucy said, putting her hands on her hips, "four ghosts, cockroaches everywhere, cobwebs in every corner, and a giant cliff overlooking a ferocious ocean…yet this is the scariest thing I've yet to see." She recalled all the ghoulish sights that inhabited Whipstaff Manor she'd had the displeasure of encountering.

"Told you it was scary," Kat muttered.

"Oh, boo, hoo!" Casper laughed. "Stairs won't kill you!"

"But a heart attack might," Lucy said.

"And besides," Kat cut in, "you don't have any legs! Or a heart! So you don't have room to judge here, mister." She smiled, squinting slightly.

Casper surrendered his hands in the air.

"Uncle, uncle!" He called. Kat shook her head and proceeded up the stairs as Lucy followed behind.

The three walked up the stairs, huffing and puffing the whole way. Once they reached the top, Casper stopped them at a large door.

"I swear to god Casper," Kat said adjusting the hem of her shirt, "if that's another set of stairs you'll be dead. Twice."

"Not stairs, and I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at what we find," Casper smiled. He turned the knob and the door opened with a loud creak. Kat and Lucy coughed, waving away the dust that had collected over the years.

Inside was a large room filled to the brim with boxes, and old, antique furniture.

"What is all this, Casper?" Kat asked.

Lucy glanced over and saw her friend's eyes widen in curiosity.

"An old attic, long forgotten." Casper put his hands on his hips and sighed. "I don't know why I didn't think to come up here sooner. But look, look," he flew over to an old rocking horse and began to rock back and forth. "This is Jimmy! I played with him all the time."

Lucy looked around, amazed at all the boxes and junk that surrounded her.

"And this," Casper flew over to a dusty closet and pulled out an old tuxedo. "My mother made this for me, I only ever got to wear it once. I still remember the day," Casper ran his fingers across the lace and laughed. "I wore it to a church dance, and some jerk 'accidentally' spilled punch all over me! No girl in that entire rom wanted to dance with me."

"Aw, Casper," Kat smiled gently and took his hand.

"Hey, no sweat!" He shrugged it off and smiled back at Kat. "Girls back then were all boring anyway, not like you." Kat blushed and looked down at her feet.

Lucy smiled at the gentle way Casper looked at Kat.

"Any who," Casper broke the silence. "There's just a lot of memories up here."

"Yeah, right!" Kat chuckled nervously and cleared her throat. She made her way awkwardly over to a box with the label, 'Don't Touch!', scribbled crudely in dark red marker on the lid.

"Oh, I have to see this," Kat said smiling.

Casper flew over and watched over her shoulder as she pulled the box open. Lucy tilted her head sideways to better see the the writing on the box. Her long hair was inches away from touching the dusty ground. Kat pulled out a golden shield on a wooden plaque and held it up to the window's light. There was a black engraving on the front.

"In honor of Theodore McFadden, for an outstanding demonstration of his musical talents and abilities through his Operatic rendition of Romeo and Juliet." Kat frowned and felt the plaque. "And Theodore is?"

"Oh that's Uncle Fatso—er Uncle Theo…?" Casper shrugged.

"No way." She blew the dust off the plaque to reveal the dates. "The Annual Sunbury Music Festival, 1883."

Lucy raised her eyebrows. Fatso didn't strike her as the performing type, even though she had to admit he and his brothers were a bunch of drama queens.

"Uncle Fatso was really talented from what my dad told me—and he never told me that much about my uncles." Casper squinted at the writing.

"Why not?" Lucy asked.

"I dunno, I think they might've had a rough history together or something," he shrugged. Lucy thought back to her own 'rough family history', specifically the one between her grandma and mother.

"To be honest, I'm not sure if I should be impressed or scared…" Kat said.

"I'd say both is a safe bet," Caper suggested. After she placed the plaque on a wooden table, she reached back in and pulled out a metallic flask.

"Oh, that was Uncle Stretch's!" Casper pointed to it and smiled.

"Look at this engraving," Kat squinted and read aloud. "To my sweet, Vinnie Bear, with love, Charlie." Kat snorted.

Casper cringed and nodded. "Gosh, Charlie." His face softened as he rested his elbows on the table. "She was a character."

Kat half-smiled. "Who was she?"

"She lived in New York for years before she and Uncle Stretch got together. Oh boy, those two were always all over each other!" Casper stuck out his tongue and grimaced, making Kat laugh. "When they'd come to visit, back in the early days, she'd tell me stories about her adventures in women's rights campaigns." His fond smile faded. "Three months before their wedding…she went to a protest, in Manhattan. Things got out of hand," Casper's brows furrowed. "Someone shot her from behind while she was speaking." He floated sadly to the ground. "Uncle Stretch wasn't the same after that…"

"God, Casper. I'm so sorry," Lucy's eyes welled up watching the little ghost.

He tried to brighten up. "She did live a good life…I just wish she had lived it longer."

"With Vinnie Bear?" Kat smiled, trying to cheer him up.

"Yep, Uncle Vincent." He chuckled.

Lucy looked at the engraving and smiled. It warmed to her heart to think that someone could've loved Stretch in another life.

"I think it's sweet," she said quietly. "An epic love story for the ages."

Kat looked at the engraving again and shook her head. "Someone get me a grater for all this cheese." She shivered and placed it back in the box. She searched around again and pulled out a beaten up teddy bear with a faded red ribbon around his neck.

"Uncle Stinkie used to carry that around on his really bad days," Casper said. "He had crippling anxiety all his life." Lucy glanced at Casper, surprised. Anxiety? Sure he seemed a little nervous, sometimes, but she would never have guessed it was as severe as that. "So the great asshole really does have a sentimental side?" Kat broke into her thoughts. "How touching." Despite the hardness in her voice she placed the bear back in place with care.

"So, why did you bring us up here again?"

Casper jolted upwards and snapped his fingers. "That's right! Costume ideas! For the festival!"

Kat and Casper began rummaging through the other boxes and under the furniture around the room, leaving Lucy alone with the box. She picked up the bear slowly and sniffed it. It smelled like old books and very faint perfume. She knew it had been a bear well loved. It reminded her of her old rabbit that she would cling to when her grandma and mother would get into fights. She kissed its matted head softly and placed it on top of the lid in a sitting position. She joined Kat and Casper, who were now occupied with a box filled with old furs and jewelry.

"Eleanor Roosevelt." Casper said excitedly.

"Who?" Kat looked at him with a confused expression.

"You don't know who Eleanor Roosevelt is? What do they teach you kids in school these days?" He said, exasperated.

Lucy laughed to herself and shook her head. She wiped the dust off her hands on her jeans and examined another box. It was titled, 'Photos' in a fine black ink. She pulled out a large portrait of three mystery somebodies: a tall younger man holding a baby in his arms and a younger woman with dark messy hair pulled back in a bun. She wasn't looking at the baby, but at the man. Her eyebrows were thick and dark, cresting over bright, sparkling eyes. The man grinned back at her, and Lucy saw the love in both their expressions. Maybe these weren't random somebodies after all…

The man looked familiar, with layered black hair and a tall frame, pale eyes and a wicked and dashing smile. Stretch, Casper, and Charlie? Or did Charlie ever have a baby? She placed the picture back into the box and selected another of a different man making a snide face at the photographer. Lucy recognized those eyes, the way they seemed to look straight through her. She tilted it into the light. His hair was gelled back and he was wearing a suit that squeezed all the wrong places. Still, his face was cute, round and kind. She could've sworn she'd seen him before…

"Whatcha looking at, Lucy?" Casper hovered in front of Lucy with a large yellowed sheet hanging over his arm. Lucy jumped and almost dropped the portrait, catching it before it hit the floor.

"Nothing, nothing," she scrambled to put the portrait away.

"Hey, that's Uncle Stinkie!" Casper said picking it up again. "That was the day my Mom and Dad got married." He looked closer. "Mom made them all wear something nice, she said they fought her on it all the way." He chuckled.

"What was his name?" Lucy asked, feeling her face flush at the now-familiar mischievous smirk she had seen before on Stinkie's face.

"Joseph, but we all called him Uncle Joey."

An odd burning sensation in the pit of her stomach, causing her to just smile awkwardly. "Did you find a costume?" Lucy said trying to change the subject.

"Yeah!" Casper held up the sheet enthusiastically. "This way I can cover up and cut out some eyeholes."

Kat nodded in agreement. "Casper found a chest full of costume accessories on the shelf. And I found these bad boys in that closet over there," she pointed to a large leader oak chest covered in dust. "Plus all these masks!" Kat held up a long black dress and an old fashioned white evening gown and a pair or masquerade masks. "Aren't they groovy?" She said turning to Lucy.

"Yeah," she replied, still feeling odd.

"My mom made my costume almost every year, she was a wonderful seamstress. She was always making my pirate play clothes when I was little! How handy is that?" He took a plastic sword from the chest and started swinging, pretending to duel with someone.

"The dress might be a little big but I'll bet you could just find a spell make it fit…?" Kat suggested. Lucy laughed slightly.

"Or I could break out my sewing kit. I can sew, like normal." She said quietly. Kat blushed slightly.

"Oh yeah, we'll stick to that then." She lowered her arm noticing Lucy's uncomfortable demeanor. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Oh nothing, just feeling a little sick to my stomach all of the sudden is all." She put her hand to her tummy—that part was true. "Must be all this dust." She scratched her nose and rocked on her heels.

"Well come on, I know a shortcut back to the living room." Casper said.

Kat frowned and took Lucy's hand.

"Maybe we can find you something in town, just the two of us," she said smiling. Lucy nodded. Casper took an old cane and knocked it against the wall three times, causing a wall to creak open and reveal a secret passageway.

"Don't tell me you knew about this the whole time and never said anything," Kat crossed her arms defiantly.

"Not the whole time—just when we got to the third floor…oops." He smiled sheepishly.

Kat rolled her eyes. "Well, come on let's get out of here already." She motioned to her friends and disappeared into the archway.

"Aight boys," Stretch followed by his brothers flew into the night sky. "To da town centah," he said proudly.

They looked over the sleepy town of Friendship. There were no lights, no people out and about in the late hours of the night, nothing. Nothing but an old owl sitting on the gnarled branch of an oak tree.

"When the sun's away the trio comes out to play," Fatso said eyeing the large full moon.

"There—" Stretch pointed to the town center and they dove down silently, letting the wind carry them. "Dis is where the coasties are havin' this little shindig," he smirked. "They won't know what hit 'em." He smiled mischievously. "Stink, you got the bag o' goodies?" He turned to his brother.

Stinkie nodded. They slid through the brick wall around the back entrance.

"It smells like sugar cookies in here!" Stinkie snarled, holding his large nose.

"Mmm, sugar cookies," Fatso said dreamily.

"Someone get me a dead fish or somethin'!" He hissed.

"Mmm, dead fish…" Fatso rubbed his stomach.

"Hey wait a minute…" Stretch stopped Stinkie and Fatso abruptly. "Yous hear that?" He squinted his eyes and looked to the double doors. They heard footsteps coming and grinned at each other. "It's showtime boys," he said.

Timid footsteps could be heard approaching the main hall. It was the midnight shift for the 100-year old security guard, Jerry. As he slowly opened the double doors his flashlight shook in his wrinkled hands.

"Hello?" His voice was croaky and small. Perfect scaring material. "Damn, teenagers! Go find some other love shack! Not in this town center! Now scram!" He yelled, hunched over. "Hello?" He flash his flashlight around the room. The chandelier began to shake a little, making small tinkling sounds. He shown the flashlight on it quickly and the shaking ceased.

"Jerry," Fatso said cooly, sounding almost like the wind or a breeze.

"Wha—" He turned around quickly and held onto his flashlight for dear life.

"Damn hearing aids," he said shuffling out quickly. But poor Jerry didn't see it coming. Stretch, Stinkie and Fatso swept in front of him and bared their fangs with piercing red eyes.

"BOO!" They all yelled and raised their hands like claws. Jerry let out a shriek and fell over backwards dropping his flashlight. The trio hugged and laughed together pointing at the old man. Stretch wiped a tear from his eyes.

"Oh that nevah gets old," he said putting his hands on his hips.

"Whata we do with 'im?" Fatso asked.

"Ah just leave 'im, someone will find him in the morning," Stretch grimaced looking at this ancient face.

"God, what is this dude, one-hundred years old or somethin'?"

"Nah dis bozo's a local legend! He's one hundred and two!" Fatso threw his hands in the air.

"He's not breathin', Stretch," Stinkie poked him slightly on the stomach and he gurgled slightly. They all loomed over him and watched in silence. Jerry made a small spasm, causing them all to jump back a little bit.

"That's good enough for me!" Stretch said flying upward. "Aight, do we remembah the plan, boys?"

They nodded.

"We possess some poor fleshies bodies at da begginin' of da party," Stinkie said rubbing his hands together.

"Then we get in there and wreck havoc as usual," Fatso said grinning.

"Then as just before the clock strikes two -" Stinkie said.

"- the stink bomb will go off! And as a bonus we'll reveal ourselves and scare the livin' pants off the entire town!"

They cackled together, gathering in a small huddle. "And bada-bing bada-boom we're back in business," Stretch said, smoothly.

"It's the perfect plan for a night them fleshies won't evah forget!" Stinkie said.

"Now let's get movin, if we're gonna get this bomb ready in time for the party tomorrow," Stretch said.

Stinkie and Fatso grinned at each other and pulled out the bomb. It was round and a puke green with a stink cloud on the front of it.

"My finest work," Stinkie brought it to his face. "Let's put her to work, this time tomorrow? The entire town will be the stinkiest town in all of Maine."

[okwonyo]

under the mistletoe.

ᙏ̤̫ 엔하이픈 ♡ femreader & fluff crush potential friends2lovers + cw. not-proofread skinship kissing 0.7k | ( bookshelf )

heeseung would be extremely joyful— he'd literally be the one who put mistletoe all over the place, hoping that you would ‘accidentally’ walk under one as he'd be literally the one who is guiding you. he'd put out his best act, “oh my god, we are under the mistletoe!” he'd say with the biggest smile on of his face. you'd gawk at him because ‘there is mistletoes in every corner? why didn't he notice them earlier..?’ he'd wait with the same expression until you finally give a peck on his lips.

jongseong wouldn't be able to stop smiling after you make him notice that there is a mistletoe above the both of you. he'd have at that small smile of his and, his lips would be shaking as he'd try to make them straight again. as the gentleman as he is, he'd ask “do you choose the lips or a cheek?” with a hint of tease in his voice. although he'd play it cool, his heart would jump in his ribcage when you point to your lips. he'd hold your chin, tilt your head up a tad; just so he can kiss you properly and, put his lips on yours softly.

jaeyun would be astonished when you'd tell him that you have to kiss him. with his mouth agape and eyes wide— because you; his crush since the first time he saw you, wants to kiss him..? now? really? his heard would drop when you tell him that there is a mistletoe above you both, as you see that he started to panic. he'd feel so stupid but frustrated at the same time, he'd bring his hand to his face to hide his embarrassment. “come on, it's just a kiss, jake” you'd say as you laugh. he'd cough, close his eyes and take a deep breath. you'd cup his face while he does god-knows-what and kiss him.

sunghoon would try to communicate with his eyes that there is a mistletoe right above your head; he'd look at you then the plant over and over again. you'd just watch him with pure confusion, pressing your lips together to not laugh because he'd look a bit funny. then finally, when you also look up at what he is looking at you open your mouth in realization. he'd bend town, eyes closed and puckering lips. you wouldn't be able to do anything but kiss him right on the mouth.

seonwoo would be so frustrated— he'd get shy instantly. just the thought of your lips on his would him get hot and red all over the face. he'd start giggling as soon as you point to the infamous green plant, and you'd just watch him with a fond smile on his face despite the fact that you don't know what he is so happy about. you'd ask, “is it okay if i kiss you on the lips?” and he'd get even more smiley, even forgetting to respond. “the lips?” you try again and he nods, so of course you'd release his wish.

jungwon would tease you for getting suddenly shy. you know, he'd really— and i mean, really— want to kiss you on the lips but, it can wait, he loves to see you frustrated. he'd put his arms behind his back and bend over so his face can be right in front of yours, “come on, don't be shy..” he'd say. however, he'd end up giggling with you when your breath touches his skin. you'd both be a giggling mess for a long moment, still, you'd kiss him at the end, and he'd smile at you tenderly after pulling away.

riki would try to hide his excitement by being extremely annoying about it. “wow, i know you liked me but putting this right where we stand just to get a peck is hit extreme” with a playful wink. he'd start apologizing with his hands put together as soon as you'd tell him that you won't give him a kiss then. you'd have him begging for a kiss in a millisecond— he'd only shut up when you press your lips against his. he'd have a cute smile after.. (´▽｀)

christmas season!!

taglist open! @manooffline @ibsysbsfsunsbs @nwjws @lilriswife4life @alaezasmystery235 @teddywonss @tyussday @cholexxc @flickqr @yuviqik @wvnrqs @strawberrywonz @aleiouvre @y-ves @isawritesss @run2x @filmofhybe nets @kflixnet @k-films @/k-labels

[crowfootwrites]

Los Guardianes | Part I [Nestor Oceteva x Fem!Reader]

I've been sitting on this for a while because I really like the story and want to make sure I do it justice. This is going to be a multi-part series. I hope y'all like it!

Warnings: references to playground injury | Words: 1,527

Also, oops, totally forgot to include my taglist 🤦🏼‍♀️: @chibsytelford @megapeacelovemusic-blog @broiderie

In the chaos that accompanied the start of the first day of school, you missed the shiny black Escalade that was pulling up out front of New River Preschool Academy. Your pre-K classroom was already noisy, the sounds of children chattering and laughing intermingled with the sounds of tearful farewells as parents prepared to leave for the day. A few children sobbed hysterically at their parents’ departures and you motioned for your classroom aide to attend to them while you answered questions from a couple of helicopter parents about naptime and the quality of the provided snacks.

You didn’t miss when a very severe looking man with long black braids and yellow aviator sunglasses appeared at the classroom door with a young boy in tow. It was almost comical, the juxtaposition of such an intimidating looking man, dressed in all black and sporting a neck tattoo, standing on your gaudy counting carpet. Your eyes flickered towards him as he tried to assess which of the adults in the classroom was in charge. You watched as the young boy tugged on his hand and pointed eagerly towards the bins of toy cars along your bright blue bookshelf. You politely extricated yourself from the claws of the two mothers demanding their children only receive brand name juice and made your way towards the door, navigating easily around crawling children and spilled blocks.

The man looked up at your approach and you swore there was a flash of relief in his eyes. But it was quickly replaced by the serious, acute gaze you had witnessed at his arrival.

“Good morning,” you addressed the duo cheerfully. “I’m Ms. (Y/L/N). Who do we have here?” you asked, crouching down to greet the boy. He stared at his shoes shyly, shuffling closer to his guardian’s leg. You noticed the tightening of his little fingers around the man’s hand, and you stood with a smile.

“Cristóbal. Galindo,” the man offered quietly. “He’s a little nervous.”

“I see,” you replied with a grin. “Well, hopefully we can pull him out of his shell a little today. I promise, he’ll be used to us in no time, Mr. Galindo.”

The man’s stern expression lifted for a moment as he smirked, shaking his head. “Oh, I’m – I’m not Mr. Galindo,” he clarified. “I’m Nestor. I’m the Galindos’ head of security.”

“Oh, I'm sorry! Little man gets his own security detail?” You hoped your teasing was well-received; Nestor didn’t look like the kind of person you wanted to upset.

But Nestor smiled at you. It was small, but it was there, and the tension in your chest relaxed just a bit. “Something like that,” he replied. He studied you for a moment before you felt a tugging on the hem of your shirt and tore your gaze away from Nestor’s to glance down at the tiny culprit: a little boy with cornrows was motioning to Cristóbal and holding up a toy Batmobile.

You chuckled. “Use your words, Marco,” you said gently. “You can ask him if he wants to play with you.”

Marco turned to Cristóbal, who was staring at him in bewilderment. But the moment Marco offered the Batmobile, Cristóbal was smiling, and the two boys scampered over to an empty spot on the carpet. You looked back up to see Nestor still staring at you, a strange look on his face. He seemed to snap out of it after a moment, and he fumbled to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. He handed you a business card.

“I think Mr. Galindo’s information is on the school paperwork, but if you have any issues and you can’t get a hold of him, I always answer,” he supplied.

You nodded and gave him a wry smile. “Thank you, I’ll remember that.”

With a quick nod, he was gone.

Your mornings went something like that for the next few weeks. As the kids settled into a routine and became more familiar with your classroom, drop-offs started going more smoothly. Every morning, Nestor dropped Cristóbal off, and picked him up every afternoon. Sometimes, you had the opportunity to chat with him, other times, he greeted you with a nod and then was on his way.

Cristóbal seemed to be thriving. He played well with others and followed directions. He was very inquisitive, which you found endearing. You knew, generally speaking, who the Galindos were, and you would have expected, coming from such a wealthy family, for Cristóbal to be very spoiled. But you were pleasantly surprised by his gentle and respectful demeanor.

On one otherwise uneventful Tuesday, Cristóbal fell on the playground and split his upper lip. When you attempted to call Mr. Galindo, per his information in Cristóbal’s file, he didn’t pick up. You remembered Nestor’s card in the top drawer of your desk and dug around to find it while you pulled Cristóbal onto your hip and he clung to your shirt, his little body shuddering as he sobbed.

You quickly dialed the number and put it on speaker, setting your cell on your desk while you dug out your antiseptic wipes for the boy’s lip.

“Nestor.” His voice was clipped and edgy.

“Hi, Nestor,” you rushed, not wanting to take up too much of his time, “this is Ms. (Y/L/N) from Cristóbal’s school. I’m so sorry to bother you, but Cris had a little accident on the playground today. I don’t think it’s anything too serious, but he split his lip and he’s pretty upset. I tried to call Mr. Galindo, but he didn’t answer.” You knew he could hear Cristóbal wailing from your hip.

The second you stopped speaking he was telling you he’d be there in twenty minutes. He sounded gentler by then, and you breathed a sigh of relief. In that moment, handling a cartel kid seemed way over your pay grade.

Nestor arrived exactly twenty minutes later. It was nap time in your classroom, so you had Cristóbal sitting next to you on a bench in the hallway leading to your room. The bleeding had stopped, and he held an ice pack to his face to help with the swelling. His feet were kicking gently, not reaching the ground, and you realized one of his shoes was untied. As you knelt in front of him to re-lace his red sneaker, you talked to him quietly, telling him about the last time you hurt yourself: tripping over your best friend’s dog at the park and scraping your knee. You told the story so animatedly that he was giggling behind his ice pack. Facing Cristóbal, you didn’t see or hear Nestor approach and when you happened to glance over your shoulder, you jumped to find him standing behind you. He grinned down at you, obviously trying not to laugh alongside his ward.

You rose quickly to your feet as Cristóbal cried, “Nes!” and hopped off the bench.

You could have melted into a giant puddle on the floor witnessing the tenderness with which Nestor interacted with Cristóbal. He knelt down on one knee, gently pulling the ice pack away from the boy’s face to assess the damage. His eyes were puffy from crying, his lip was swollen, and there was a robot bandage over the cut, but he looked ok otherwise.

“How does your lip feel, bud?” Nestor asked him quietly, his voice low and calm.

“It hurts a little,” Cristóbal replied, “but Ms. (Y/L/N) made it stop bleeding and said I was brave.”

You watched as Nestor tried to hide his smile.

“You are brave, chaparrito (shorty),” Nestor responded with a nod, ruffling his hair. “Is it ok if I take him home for the day?” he asked you.

“Yeah, of course, I – ”

“Hey, now I look tough like you do when you get hurt, Nes!” Cristóbal interjected as Nestor stood up, a grimace passing over his expression. You raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you.

He offered a rueful smile and shrugged. “Hazards of the job.”

“Thank you,” he offered appreciatively. “For taking care of him.”

“Of course. Happy to.” You took in his dark eyes and the set of his jaw. He looked more drained than he had that morning and you wondered fleetingly what he had been up to when you called.

Cristóbal grabbed Nestor’s hand and began towing him down the hall when Nestor paused. He glanced back over his shoulder at you. “Maybe the next time I need fixing up, I could come see you for robot bandaid?” he asked, his gaze sober and almost apprehensive.

Your mind raced, trying to come up with a suitably clever reply as your lips curled into a grin. “Yeah,” you managed, “I’ll make sure to stock enough for all your work hazards. I also have dinosaurs, if you’re interested.”

A small smile crept onto his face and he gave you a firm nod. “Very interested.”

Cristóbal tugged his arm and he let the boy lead the way out. Your breath caught in your chest, the stillness a distinct contrast to the thunderous beating of your heart behind your ribcage. Very interested.

Part II of Los Guardianes

[official-weasley]

Meant to Be (Charlie Weasley x OC)

What happens when Bill brings home a girl and Charlie is completely awestruck by her?

WARNINGS: curse words, mentions of alcohol, SMUT

A/N: This chapter contains a rather long sexy scene (probably the longest I have ever written and well..it’s…juicy. I had a day, okay. BYE 🙈)

Chapter 14

Charlie

3 months later…

“Charlie, you got a minute?” I stopped in front of the Admission Office.

“Of course, Ernie. Got something for me?” I grinned at him.

“A letter from your brother.” He handed me the envelope. “What got you all cheered up today?”

“What do you mean?” I kept looking at the letter.

After all these months it still felt amazing getting a couple of letters per week from Bill.

“I heard you whistling walking here. You only whistle when you’re in a really good mood.” He smirked.

“It’s the first Saturday in August, Ernie. You know what that means!” I couldn’t hide the smile that spread across my face.

I can’t believe Ernie noticed when I whistle.

The truth is, I don’t recall the last time I was this happy. The mating season was over. Bill and I were on speaking terms again. Just last month I was able to see all my siblings and my parents again.

We had a family reunion and Bill and I got Ron drunk by accident. We had two bottles on the table. One with wine and the other with apple juice and we forgot to check the bottle before pouring him a drink.

He, of course, didn’t say anything and after two glasses he was hammered. Bill and I couldn’t stop laughing at the way he spoke and he was so tipsy. He tried getting up and almost fell flat on his face and then found it so funny that he fell off the bench we were sitting on.

It wasn’t funny when mum found us and saw something was wrong. Bill tried to distract her but failed and she figured us out. She made us take Ron to bed and then we planned to hide in the attic with the ghoul but mum found us and she shouted in our faces for a solid hour. I felt as if I was 12 again.

When she stopped she made us go down and wait on our family members for the rest of the night. Before we did, we made an excuse that we need to use the toilet and we locked ourselves in the bathroom on the middle floor and started laughing so hard I thought I won’t be able to catch a breath. We might be 23 and 25, which is way too old to make mum so mad, but we didn’t care. We were having the time of our lives.

I can’t begin to describe how happy it made me that I could hang out with Bill again. With my siblings. To get a bone-crushing hug from Ginny and play chess with Ron. It’s indescribable. For the first time since I started working in Romania, I wanted to plan my days off to go and see them again and I was loving it.

I was finally myself again. Talking to my family. Supporting and being there for my siblings. Teasing Bill for being so in love and having the best job in the world. I even made myself a bookshelf and I am slowly filling it with books.

My routine in the Sanctuary is more or less the same. I wake up. Make myself a coffee and go watch the sunrise. I am no longer overthinking if Rhylee’s going to be there and if she is, we simply watch the sun showing itself from behind the mountains together.

I didn’t think I would be able to be friends with her after what happened at her place that night but we grew even closer. She was one of my best friends. That didn’t mean my feelings for her faded away. But they were easier to bear now that I didn’t feel guilty for being in love with her.

I have come to terms that I will never call her mine. It was painful, I am not going to lie about that but at least I can move on and not overthink her every move.

Bill and my friends in the Reserve all think that I should tell her how I feel but every time they try and persuade me I stop them. I made a mistake telling my mates what Bill told me about Nick. Ever since I did they are trying to do everything to bring me and Rhylee together. At first, I wanted to kill them but now I just find it amusing.

I am proud of myself for how much I’ve grown. I feel more mature and I see things differently. I see what matters and I push myself to do things that make me happy. I read more. I run. I train Aami and Bean, that’s the name Rhylee decided to give our albino Short-Snout. I hang out with my friends and advise my siblings. I really couldn’t ask for more.

The fact that I am still awestruck every time I see Rhylee or that my heart wants to escape my ribcage every time she laughs or looks at me, is just a minor inconvenience now. I can deal with that with everything else being so great. I wouldn’t change my current life for anything in the world if it means I make my family happy and I can hang out with my friends while having the best job.

At first, I wanted to fight my feelings. Push them down. Get rid of them somehow. But I quickly realized that I can’t change them and that it’s pointless to think they are simply going away. I have meaningless sex and even though it’s never as it was with Rhylee, it still counts as a fun night and it’s a good distraction.

I might get lucky and find myself a girl to settle down with one day. For now, I was happy with the things being as they were. It wasn’t perfect but it was much much better compared to the painful loop I was in before.

“I’ll be damned!” Ernie’s voice brought me back to reality. “I forgot about the party tonight!” He slammed his hand at his forehead. “Thanks, Charlie for reminding me! Can you imagine me forgetting about it?” He shook his head.

“Ernie, if it’s going to be anything like last year, just the music and us being all over the place would remind you soon enough.” I laughed.

Every year, in the first week of August we had a party. We invited everybody from the neighboring wizard villages and there was always someone that borrowed something Muggles call speakers. We decorate the central area of our village with lights and put tables and chairs around it so it looks like a dance floor. We hang the speakers from the trees and we help with the cooking throughout the day.

The party officially begins the second we are done with work and the music starts playing. It’s something we all look forward to all summer. Theo has been talking about it for two weeks now. He made an entire plan on getting us all so wasted that if he asked Gerta out again, we won’t remember how she slaps him in the face.

“You’re right, mate! I’ll see you there!” Ernie started putting papers together. “I have to clean up the office early if I want to make it to the party in time!”

“Want me to help you? I just finished working.” I offered.

“Oh, no! You go get all nice and ready, so you can dance with the ladies!” He laughed and I followed.

“Will do, Ernie. Will do.” I waved to him and started walking toward my home.

People were already running left and right, checking if everything is ready. I unlocked my front door and closed it with my foot while opening Bill’s letter.

Dear Charlie,

I know you’re going to be busy this weekend with your big party and everything, but I just had to write to you about this.

I bought a wedding ring for Fleur today. I am planning on asking her to marry me this weekend. I am taking her to the beach near Shell Cottage. Dad said that perhaps we could even buy it if we ask aunt Muriel nicely. I don’t want to get my hopes up but I can imagine myself living with Fleur there.

I am planning a romantic picnic and popping the question by the end of the night! I would love your opinion on the matter but I sent out this letter too late for your owl to reach me with your answer. Perhaps while you’re reading this, I’m already engaged!

Can you feel how nervous I am through my letter?

Anyways, I just needed to share that with you!

Wish me luck!

Oh, and have fun at the party! Please have the time of your life and don’t hold back in case anything ought to happen, if you know what I mean!

Love, Bill

Merlin’s beard, he is getting engaged! It was Saturday, so either he is already or he will be soon!

I jumped in the air in the middle of my living room that’s how happy I was for him. I hope they can convince aunt Muriel to sell them Shell Cottage. We used to go there as kids and it’s a wonderful place to start a family.

I blinked as I felt my eyes water. I wish I had the time to write him back and tell him how fucking proud I am of him for doing this and that I think Fleur will be thrilled for how he is planning to propose. I can’t wait for them to have babies so I can be an uncle!

What was I doing?

I put the letter down and scratched my head. I was so excited for my brother that I completely forgot.

Party! Right!

I hurried to take a shower and then opened my closet to see what I could wear. I didn’t wear jeans for ages. So let’s go with that and a buttoned shirt. I checked myself out in the small mirror in the bathroom and combed my hair with my fingers. As much as I could comb it. My hair was untamable.

I think I look pretty good! Not that it matters as I knew Theo is going to get us all drunk in about 15 minutes! I locked the door behind me and started walking toward the music.

“There he is!” Andrew raised his glass at me the second he spotted me.

“Look at you being all handsome!” Theo put a hand over my shoulder the second I sat down.

“Are you flirting with me, Theodore?” I winked at him. “My place or yours?”

“Damn, Charles. Is that how you flirt with women because if I wasn’t married I would go with you right now.” Peter laughed.

“I would love to, Weasley. But I am going home with Gerta tonight!” Theo was determined.

“Really?” Andrew and John asked together before bursting out laughing.

“We should get one of those Muggle devices that capture what is going on. So that even if none of us remembers tonight we could watch it in the morning.” Evan said.

“I will stay sober just to see Theo get slapped by Gerta!” Peter smirked.

“You’re already tipsy, boss.” Andrew obviously didn’t believe Peter will stay sober.

“Damn, you’re right.” Peter said after a few seconds of thinking about it.

We all started laughing.

Three hours later our table had 3 empty bottles of Fire Whiskey on it, more empty beer bottles than one could count and the waitress just brought another round. To say that we were completely hammered was an understatement.

We were laughing at something, tears running down my face. I am pretty confident none of us knew what the joke was or who told it.

“Theodore, there you are damn it!” Our faces got serious the second we comprehended who was standing in front of us.

“Gerta, love!” Theo stood up, knocking a few bottles off the table.

“I am just wasted enough to say yes to you. Now come with me before I change my mind!”

I have no idea how Theo fancied this woman. I was terrified of her. Even her harsh voice scared me.

We all watched Theo and Gerta going towards her hut with our mouths open.

“Please, tell me one of us will be able to remember that in the morning!” Peter whined.

“I don’t think I could forget this if I drank the entire alcohol stash in the Sanctuary.” Andrew said slowly.

He looked like he was about to throw up.

“What is happening?” Evan, who was sleeping, leaned on his crossed arms, lifted his head.

“Gerta just took Theo home.” I answered, still in shock.

“What?!” I thought his eyes were going to fall out of their sockets and I think it’s safe to say he just sobered up.

“Look, Charlie!” Peter and John leaned against me. “It’s Rhylee.” They sang together.

“So?” I rolled my eyes.

I knew this was coming. I was hoping they would be too drunk to remember to tease me about her, but apparently, they weren’t there yet.

“Come on! Go and dance with her!” John tried pushing me to stand up but he was too weak.

It was funny how I was the youngest but did the best with alcohol.

“Give me a break, mates.” I pretended to look through the bottles to see if there was one that wasn’t opened yet.

“C’mon! She has been eyeing you all night!” Peter said. “Have some fun, will you!”

I sighed and got up. I knew they wouldn’t stop until I would go and ask her to dance. And to be perfectly honest, I was too drunk to care or to feel nervous about it.

I made my way to her. Surprised that I wasn’t tipsy at all.

“Hi.” I waved at her awkwardly. “Want to dance?”

“Sure!” She grinned and stood up at once.

I haven’t noticed how drunk she was until we reached the dance floor and she started hugging me. We danced to a few songs and I didn’t even dare to look at the table where my friends were sitting. They would probably start cheering.

The next song was a slow one. Shit! Who’s idea was this?

Rhylee pulled me closer, our bodies slamming against each other and if I wasn’t so steady on my feet we would collapse to the ground. She wrapped her arms around my waist and brought her face closer to mine.

“You look very handsome tonight.” She winked at me.

Okay, I think it’s time to take her home. She is drunk and doesn’t know what she’s saying.

“Thanks. You look great too.” I didn’t know what else to say.

Of course, she looked great. She was gorgeous. But I’m not going to admit that to her.

I didn’t like the way she was looking at me. Not one bit. It’s the same look she was giving me all night the night we had sex at the Burrow and I am not going through that again. I might not be hurting anyone this time but she was in a relationship.

“Let’s get you home, shall we.” I smiled at her and hugged her over the shoulder.

“No! Why?” She tried to stop me. “We just started dancing. Come on, Charlie! Loosen up a bit!” She got so close to me that if I wouldn’t move my head backward we would kiss.

This was getting out of hand.

She wrapped her hands around me again. How was she so strong if she was as drunk as she appeared to be? I sighed and we danced through one more song.

“Okay, now you can take me home.” Her whispering in my ear sent shivers down my spine.

We were slowly making our way through the crowd, toward her cottage when I remembered that I never opened the present she got me for Christmas at the Burrow. I have no idea why it popped in my head but I was just drunk enough not to care and admit to her that I lost it.

“Hey, Rhy?” I cleared my throat.

“Yes?” Her eyes were too hopeful for my liking.

“Do you remember the present you gave me for Christmas when we met?” She simply hummed in response.

I felt my cheeks turn pink. This was embarrassing. After what happened between us and she gave me the little package, I simply tossed it in my bag. I don’t remember where I put it once I got back to Romania and I don’t even know why we are talking about it now but apparently drunk Charlie’s curiosity got the better of him and wants to know what’s inside.

“I never got the chance to open it and I misplaced it somehow. What was inside?” I said as quickly as I could.

I didn’t want to offend her for losing it.

“What?” She laughed.

“What was inside the little box?” I repeated the question.

“Where did you lose it?” She ignored me.

“It has to be somewhere in my cottage if I didn’t toss it in the trash by accident.” I scratched my chin, thinking hard where it could be.

“Well, let’s go then!” She grabbed my hand and started walking.

“Where are you taking me?” I chuckled.

“We are going to search your place for my present!” She bestowed me with the biggest grin I have ever seen.

She seemed so pleased with her idea.

“Now?” I chortled.

“Yes!” She exclaimed. “The gift might be silly but we got to see what I got you!”

“You don’t remember?” I raised my eyebrows at her and she stopped walking for a second.

“I am not sure.” She said slowly after a few seconds. “Come on, Charlie! It’ll be fun!”

I haven’t seen her this relaxed and happy in months. She grabbed my hand and started walking towards my cottage again. She was so excited to do this that I simply couldn’t deny her the satisfaction of finding the little box. And to be completely honest, I didn’t want to stop her.

“Okay, so if I was a little box, where would I be?” She put her hands on her hips, thinking hard, her eyes scanning every shelf and drawer. I started in the kitchen and she went to check the compartment in my bathroom.

After half an hour we completely trashed the place but I didn’t mind at all. I was having too much fun with her. She started throwing the clothes out of my closet, jumper after jumper and I started moving the socks away to see if I tossed it in the drawer.

I almost gave up when my fingers touched something that wasn’t fabric. I pulled out a small red box with a green bow on it. This was it!

“Rhy, I found it!” I heard her gasp.

I think she was standing inside my closet. I laughed when she poked her head out of it. She was adorable!

She hurried to me, stepping over piles of clothes, and stopped right in front of me.

“Open it.” She whispered, her eyes on the box in my hands.

I slowly removed the lid and shook the box’s contents onto my palm. I couldn’t believe it. It was a dragon scale. A dragon scale of an albino dragon.

That’s what she got me for Christmas?

I know it didn’t mean anything because she didn’t even know who she was bringing the gift to but I was still astounded. She knew I loved dragons so she got me a dragon scale. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

“You call this a silly gift?” I breathed.

Rhylee dragged her finger across it and put it back in the box. I was so in shock at what it was that I didn’t notice how fast she was breathing. She took the box from my hand and placed it on top of my dresser.

“Rhy, are you o…”

She cupped my face and kissed me hard on the mouth. I was so startled by her action that I didn’t have the time to respond.

“I’m sorry.” She pulled away, her hand over her mouth.

“Emm…it’s okay.” I didn’t know what to say.

I just kept staring at her with my eyes wide open, trying to calm my heart down.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” I could see the panic in her eyes growing.

What the fuck am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to pretend I didn’t enjoy the kiss? Because that would be a bloody lie. I have been dreaming about kissing her again since we spent the night together at the Burrow.

Did she even know what she was doing? How drunk was she? Because that kiss definitely sobered me up! I thought we were over this. She stopped that night when I came to her place. Why did she do it now? I thought I was doing a good job being her friend. Why does she mess with me like this!

I needed every muscle in my body not to grab her hand and pull her back for another kiss. I can’t do this, can I? She has a boyfriend. Somebody will get hurt again! I can’t go through that guilt again. I can’t hurt someone else. Even if I don’t know the guy. Even if he is a prick like Bill said.

Bill…

What did Bill say in his letter this morning?

Please have the time of your life and don’t hold back in case anything ought to happen, if you know what I mean!

Don’t hold back. Bill, that’s not helping!

I was trapped. I wanted to grab her hand and prevent her from leaving but at the same time, I wanted to do the right thing. My heart was beating so fast that it hurt and the look in Rhylee’s eyes wasn’t helping me decide. It was a mix of panic and hope. Hope, that I would decide for her whether or not this was a bad idea.

Of course, it’s a bad idea, Rhylee! It’s the worst possible idea.

“I have to go.” She bowed her head and started towards the door of my bedroom.

It’s a bad idea.

It is a really bad idea.

I know, damn it!

But do I care?

I stepped toward her, almost tripping over the clothes on the floor.

Do I care?

I grabbed her hand and turned her around, our bodies colliding. Her eyes slowly moved up to lock with mine. We were both breathing heavily.

“Charlie.”

Damn it, Rhylee! You can’t say my name like that. Don’t ask for me to do something.

Okay, let’s go over this again.

Is it a bad idea? Yes.

Do I care? I am just drunk enough that it’s safe to say that no, I do not.

I placed my hands around her neck and kissed her. I thought she was going to resist me. I was waiting for her to pull away. But she didn’t. She was doing quite to opposite. She parted my lips with her tongue and it gently found mine. She was kissing me back.

Merlin’s beard, this was insane! I can’t believe I forgot how good her lips felt on mine. What an amazing kisser she was. How soft her lips were and with what passion she kissed me.

I put her hands on her hips and brought us closer to the bed. With a gentle nudge, she was lying on it, that playful look in her eyes again. I climbed on top of her and wrapped my fingers around her hair and gently pulled it back so she tilted her head and revealed her neck.

I placed a soft kiss just behind her right ear and I felt her tremble. I kissed her again, not so softly this time. I started biting her neck and I felt her moving under me.

This simply can’t be wrong. It felt too right to be wrong.

I pushed myself up and started to unbutton my shirt. I looked down at her. Damn, she was so sexy. She always was but the fact that she was wearing a dress when she always wears either jeans or sweatpants was frying my brain.

“Please, fuck me, Charlie!”

Seriously, she was begging me?

Why in Godric’s Hollow did I put a shirt with so many buttons on? I don’t have time to do this! I put my hands on my chest and pulled the shirt off me. The sound of fabric ripping filled my ears and my heart started pumping even faster when I saw Rhylee’s eyes shine.

I helped her get up and pressed her against the wall. She wants me to do her, I will do it my way!

I took my precious time unzipping her dress. I could feel her getting impatient but I knew she liked the tease. If she only knew what she got herself into.

She took her arms out of her sleeves and shook her body so the dress fell off her. I turned her around, her back to the wall now, and spread her legs. She was observing my every move, curious what I was going to do next.

“Lift your arms.” I demanded and without questioning me they were above her head.

I wrapped my left hand around her wrists and pulled her underwear down with my right one. I unhooked her bra without hesitation. She was now standing in front of me, completely naked. I stuck my tongue down her throat while circling her nipple. She moaned in my mouth.

Oh, Rhylee, you haven’t felt anything yet.

I slowly moved my fingers down across her belly button, still kissing her. It didn’t really surprise me that the second my fingers ran past her clit, they drowned in her wetness. She gasped in my mouth as I started moving them in circles.

I let go of her arms now and she put them around my neck, trying to keep it together. I have to say she was doing a rather poor job.

“What is it?” I teased her when I started moving my fingers around faster and her eyes rolled back.

“Fuck…you.” She said between her moans.

“I’m a little busy focusing on you right now, Rhy.” I whispered to her.

She tried squeezing her legs together but I didn’t let her. I felt her getting tighter and I was determined not to stop until she screams from pleasure.

“Are you going to cum already?” I laughed playfully.

“I…I can’t hold it.” She cried.

“Oh, don’t hold back.” I bit the tip of her ear as her breathing got even faster.

She buried her fingers in my hair and kissed me. She was pressing hard against my lips, clutching my fingers with her soaked walls, muffling her moans with the kiss. It was pure euphoria, feeling her tremble. It brought me pleasure on another level.

“Stop.” She finally pulled herself together to talk.

“Are you sure?” I mocked her.

The look in her eyes was saying otherwise.

“It’s your turn.” She winked at me.

“Oh, I am not done with you.” I pressed her harder against the wall and placed a gentle kiss on her collar bone.

She winced, her body still sensitive to my touch.

She was speechless and her eyes were full of the wonder of what my next move will be.

“You begged me to fuck you. Don’t you know you have to think before you speak?”

I bit her neck. And her shoulder. And made a few circles with my tongue around her nipple, while playing with the other one with my finger. I kissed the scar that painted her belly. And just below the belly button. I got to my knees and spread her legs again.

I slowly ran my finger across her clit and she shivered.

“Are you ready to cum for me again?” She bit her lip and nodded in reply.

My fingers slipped back into her. This time I decided to take it more slowly. Let’s see how she likes it if I move my fingers in and out. Does that do anything?

She arched her back, scratching the wall behind her. And what if I do this?

I spread her legs just a bit more, lowered my head, and kissed her wet lips.

“Oh.” She let out a sigh.

I ran my tongue over her clit and started turning it in gentle circles. As she started breathing faster I doubled the pressure and felt her knees give in.

“Keep it together, Rhy.” I teased, my fingers still hard at work.

She grabbed my hair and pushed me back to continue my work.

“Fuck, Charlie.”

I don’t know if she was so horny or was I doing such a good job as it didn’t take her long to cum again. Her body was spasming more than before and this time she didn’t have my lips to stifle her moans. I loved how loud she was. How her pleasureful sounds filled my ears. It was like a drug.

I got up and wrapped my arms around her. She was a mess.

“Have enough yet?” I winked at her.

“No.” She giggled.

“Good.” I nodded.

I put my hands on her hips and lifted her and she automatically wrapped her legs around me. I gave her just enough space between our bodies that she unzipped my jeans and pulled them off.

She grabbed my dick, looking me straight in the eyes, and bit her lips when she placed it right in front of her juicy entrance. I don’t know what she was expecting as a surprised gasp left her mouth when I thrust in her.

She wrapped her arms around me and held tight to keep herself steady, moaning while I was rocking my hips back and forth.

Fuck, she felt good. This was insane. I knew that with all the adrenaline running through my veins, the alcohol left my head a long time ago but I still felt dizzy. I can’t believe it was even better than the last time.

I fantasized about sleeping with her more times than I would like to admit. I just couldn’t help it. She was the best I ever had. I could be myself around her. Somehow I knew exactly what she wanted and I wanted to give it to her. Badly.

I have to start thinking about something else. She felt too good and she was getting tighter again. I want to wreck her completely. I want her to forget her name and I want her to scream mine again.

“Charlie.” She moaned in my ear.

“Have enough of me yet?”

“Charlie.” She said louder.

“Yeah.”

“I…”

“What is it, sweetheart?” I placed a soft kiss on her neck as I started to move my hips even faster.

“I…”

“Come on, you can do it.” I encouraged her to speak.

I was too amused by how weak she was.

“Oh, my…” Her eyelids fluttered and I felt her squeezing me even more.

“Cum for me again.” I breathed.

I could watch her moan and twist from pleasure all night every night.

“Charlie, I can’t.” She finally managed to complete a full sentence.

I stopped moving my hips and froze.

“Are you okay?” I lifted her chin and made her look at me.

“Why the fuck did you stop?” Her eyes widened.

“You said you can’t, I thought…” I blinked at her.

I was so confused.

“I…” She bit her lip and looked away.

“What is it?” I tilted my head to find her eyes again.

“I never came three times before.” She mumbled so fast that I thought I heard her wrong.

“Oh.” I pressed my lips together, to stop them from spreading into a smile. “Well, do you think you could cum again?” I asked gently.

“Yes. I was close.” That naughty smile is going to be the death of me.

“Then let’s break your record, shall we?” I smirked at her and lifted her so she wrapped her legs around me again.

I entered her slowly this time and she pushed my hips more towards her immediately when she saw what I was doing.

“Don’t get slow on me now, Weasley.” She bit my lip and sent a new wave of adrenaline through my veins.

I decided to tease her just for saying that. I slowly pulled my hips back, so that only my tip was inside of her and then pushed my hips forward again with such a force that it took her breath away.

I did it again.

And again and again and again until she started screaming from pleasure again. For a second I thought she was going to pass out as her eyes sealed shut and she gasped for air between her moans. But I was determined not to stop until her body relaxes or she tells me to stop. She was doing neither.

She barely had the strength to wrap her hand around my neck so I could lift her when she stopped moaning. I took her to my bed and covered her.

“What are you doing?” She asked, her voice rusty from all the sounds she was making.

“I’m going to take a shower. You need some rest.” I winked at her.

“We need to take care of you first.” Her eyes moved from mine, down to my dick which was still hard.

“You can do that later. Now rest.” I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

I walked out of the room, straight into the shower.

Just as the hot water started running down my body, I felt her press her body against mine from behind.

“Miss me already?” I turned around and smirked.

“I told you…” She kneeled. “We have to take care of you.”

She didn’t have a chance to say anything else as she grabbed my dick and put it in her mouth. Damn, she was good at sucking dick. It was unbelievable. I was the one with weak knees now. She was moving her mouth so fast as if she wanted to get revenge for before.

I wanted to watch her doing it. I wanted to see how she chokes on my dick but I couldn’t. It felt too good and I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling back and closing them. I buried my fingers into her wet hair and helped her move.

I loved how she enjoyed doing it. The way she was moaning and looking up at me. I can’t take it anymore. I let out a loud groan as I came, the water washing my load off her face.

“Now, I can rest.” She smirked and I helped her get up.

I turned her around, wrapped my arms around her and placed a kiss on her shoulder.

[chloroformthelittleb4stard]

Family Relations - Part 3

Summary: Your criminology teacher is acting all kinds of weird, which is the norm, except for the part where his eyes glaze over and he tries to kill someone. Stiles, the hero he is, tries to stop your professor with little avail until he gets some unnoticeable help from you. Stiles seems to find himself with you at the location of multiple attacks, just barely making it out alive. Through the bloodshed feelings, family, and friends mix to create a perfect blend of chaos and calm.

T/CW: Violence, not kidnapping but Stiles takes reader to a place she doesn't know and doesn't like 100% get her consent for it but also she's not upset about it, oh! and one cheeky sexual implication at the end

A/N: I'm about 90% sure I'm slipping into a depression slump and I won't be able to get it fixed for at least another month, so my update schedule - not that I have one - might be a little longer than usual.

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Late night walks weren't unusual for you, you liked clearing your head before you went to sleep and you found that nature was always one of the best ways to do so. You'd been enjoying yourself in peace and quiet when an obnoxiously loud jeep started heading your way, the headlights glaring at you and the muffler failing to do a lot of muffling. You were waiting for it to pass but instead it stopped next to you, Stiles' head popping out of the drivers' side window.

"Y/n? What are you doing out so late?" You ran over to his side, the cool air making the metal of his car freezing to the touch.

"Taking a walk." You hummed, inspecting the vehicle and finding that it was painted blue with a special addition of duct tape on pieces that looked like they should be considered a safety hazard.

"It's 11:00 at night?" The moon shone brightly above you, a cloudless sky making it perfect for a nice outing.

"I like night walks."

"You shouldn't be out alone at night, it's not safe." Suppressing the instinct to tell Stiles that it only wasn't safe for people who couldn't break your bones without touching someone, you gave him a shrug and started walking away. His hand grabbed your wrist lightly, stopping you from continuing your stroll.

"No way. I am not letting you walk around at night on your own. Hop in, I'll drive you home." You gave him a pout and he got out of the car, hand still holding your wrist, to open the passenger door for you. As the door shut, a large gust of what felt like wind pushed the car to the side, the vehicle's wheels screeching in protest as a wide but shallow dent was made along the driver's side.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Stiles' complaints were loud enough for all of California to hear them but you were more focused on what just caused the dent. Getting swiftly out of the car, despite Stiles' protests, you stood in front of it, waiting for something else to happen.

You got your wish when a large vine made its way out of the thick of the brush and straight towards you and Stiles. Within a split second you were in action, bringing up a hand to create a shield, temporarily blocking the vine while your brain worked overtime to think of a way to defeat the plant.

"Stiles!" You called out to your friend, his voice replying from what sounded like miles behind you but in reality he was simply a few feet from where you were standing.

"I need you to duck!" You hoped your yelling was reaching him and you got confirmation when you heard a loud and broken 'what?!' in response to your request.

"Just do it ok, you have to trust me!" With that he called out a hesitant affirmative and you let the shield down for a split second to send a blade of air slicing through the vine, cutting it directly down the center as it fell to the ground. You held the shield up again for another five minutes, waiting for the enemy to return, when you had no response you let it down and quickly went to seek Stiles.

He was crouched behind Roscoe, shaking only slightly with adrenaline and a twinge of excitement. When he heard you call his name he stood up, spooking you accidentally by popping into your line of sight so suddenly.

"Are you ok?" You rushed to as a question before he asked the inevitable one of 'what the fuck is going on?'.

"I'm fine. Are you ok?" His hands were roaming your body, checking for injuries of any kind as he patted down your arms and tilted your head up to look underneath your jaw. You nodded, putting his fretting on pause for now.

"Now you're definitely coming with me." His words were surprising, he didn't even ask what you were or what you did, although knowing a werewolf will do that to you, you supposed. You drove in silence for about three minutes before you couldn't take it anymore, the lack of noise made you want to explode.

"Stiles where are you taking me?" He shook his head and made a zipping motion on his lips, signaling that he wasn't going to give you any information. He was shaking, buzzing with the need to tell you that he was taking you to his pack because that's what he does when these kinds of things happen, but he refrained from it because he knew his chances of actually getting you there would deplete greatly if he gave you even a hint of his plan.

"So, nice car..." He hummed in response, biting his tongue so he wouldn't spoil his mission. You frowned at the lack of communication and slumped back in your seat, head turned to watch as the city scenery whizzed past you.

When the ride was finally over you found yourself in front of an old townhouse, shut off and condemned what you were sure was 100 years ago. Its front was covered in ivy, the windows blocked from the flora that had conquered the structure. One step to the door was broken, the wood split straight through due to some unlucky bastard's step.

"Stiles where are we?" You asked as he opened your door for you, grabbing your hand immediately once you stepped out so you wouldn't escape. Stiles opted to ignore your question entirely and instead led you towards the door of the ancient home, and into its rickety structure. The halls were dark but he managed to sift his way through, muscle memory guiding him, and effectively you as well, towards the door that led to the basement.

He held your hand down the stairs before knocking on yet another door, this time metal, in the basement. When the door opened you had to adjust to the flash of light, taking his opportunity Stiles quickly dragged you into the middle of the pack meeting, standing next to you in the center of the circle.

"Y/n meet my pack, pack meet Y/n." His introduction was vague, but in his defense he was still shaken up by almost being smashed by a vine. Scott was beyond shocked when he saw you standing in the middle of the circle, and you gave him a sheepish wave, one hand still death gripping Stiles'.

"What is she doing here?" Derek cried out, standing to assess your threat level. Stiles pressed a hand to the older man's chest, pushing him away lightly to protect you, even if Derek could overpower him in less than a minute flat. Taking the hint the elder werewolf sat down next to Issac, who was, as usual, wearing his classic scarf and leather jacket.

"Well we were just attacked-"

"Attacked? Oh my god are you ok?" Allison jumped right into nurse mode cutting off Stiles completely, immediately getting up and scanning you for bruises, foregoing an introduction, before moving on to Stiles who waved her off animately.

"Yeah we are, but that's because Y/n did this whole forcefield thing and she told me to duck so I didn't see it but she sliced the vine and it was kind of awesome." Stiles' rambling brought the whole pack up to speed while you stood in the middle of all of them, looking understandably nervous. Your eyes kept flitting from Scott to Stiles, the only two people in the room you knew whatsoever.

"So, what are you?" A ginger spoke up from her perch on a bookshelf, eyes coming to meet yours with a look that screamed that she was on the defensive, despite not having been attacked.

"I'm a witch. I'm assuming that you're all werewolves?" You scanned the eyes of the participants, trying to catch sight of a glint in one of their eyes. When you saw none you internally shrugged before returning your attention to the group before you.

"Can I sit down now or do I have to stand like an exhibit this whole time?" Your nerves didn't stop your annoyance at the situation, you never liked being the center of attention. Stiles squished himself into the side of a chair, patting the spot next to him. You looked around the room trying to find another option, not that you didn't want to sit in his lap, you wanted to sit in his lap doing so many things, you just didn't want it to be weird. Upon seeing no other option you squeezed yourself in next to Stiles, who looked generally very happy considering an arm rest was most certainly digging into his ribcage.

"We're not all werewolves, I'm a banshee and Kira," The ginger pointed to an asian girl sitting next to another girl who looked amazingly uninterested at the entire event.

"Is a kitsune." Kira waved at you, smiling brightly and nudging the girl next to her so she would pay more attention.

"I'm Malia, and a were-coyote. Everyone else is a were-wolf though you're right." She went back to scrolling through her phone and disengaging from the conversation. You took in the information around you, nodding and trying to remember the names that were given. Stiles put his arm around your shoulders, allowing you to lean into him for a source of comfort.

"Well, anyways, we were just talking about the deaths that have been happening on campus and-"

"Are we seriously just going to ignore the fact that a witch just walked into our pack meeting? Is that something I'm supposed to not comment on?" A younger boy sitting on the couch spouted off and you snorted at his words. You were starting to like some of the people here, even if you didn't know their names.

"Hey kid," The boy stared at you before pointing at himself to confirm and you nodded your head.

"What's your name?" He made a vindictive gesture towards you before answering.

"Thank you! That's the kind of thing you do when you meet new people. My name is Liam, this is Derek because he won't tell you his name otherwise, he's moody." Liam pointed a thumb in the direction of the man next to him on the couch who was scowling at his words.

"The banshee is Lydia, and the guy who wears scarves all the time is Issac. Oh, and that's Scott's girlfriend Allison, she's not a were-wolf either she's human like Stiles." After listing off the names of several pack members he sat back in the couch triumphantly, looking over at everyone to see what they planned on doing.

"As I was saying, we just went over the attacks happening on, and apparently off, campus. Do you think this is magic Y/n?" You were pulled out of your head by Scott's question and you shook your head briefly before answering.

"I don't know what else it would be but I can't be sure. I've never heard of a spell or power that makes someone a killer out of nowhere." Your magical knowledge was limited to self defense mostly, something you picked up and perfected back in your hometown. You also had a significant extent of offensive knowledge which you picked up from watching other witches' attacks on you, but it was mostly theoretical.

The room feel quiet and the air became tense as everyone else looked at one another, like there was a joke you weren't in on. Finally Kira broke the silence.

"I don't want to bring this up as much as you don't but we all know this reminds us of the nogitsune." The room fell silent again and you tried to search through your brain for any knowledge you'd have on the unfamiliar word. When you came up empty you sighed, Stiles taking note and looking to see if you were ok.

"Sorry to be so out of the loop but, what's a nogitsune?" This time there was a collective sigh as they all looked at Stiles, waiting for him to explain as much as he wanted about his past with Void.

"It's a spirit, it feeds off of pain. It's immortal unless you kill it, which we did, and it can possess people. When we dealt with it last time it ended up killing a lot of people-"

"It almost killed me." Allison interrupted, clutching her stomach where you assumed there was a nasty scar commemorating the encounter.

"It ended up killing a lot of people with a sword, kind of like with these last few attacks." He finished, looking away and purposely avoiding eye contact as he said it.

"What are you not telling me?" With potential murderers on the loose you had no time for bullshit, and you knew that whatever Stiles said wouldn't phase you, not after tonight.

"It can possess people..." There was dead silence as everyone waited for Stiles to continue.

"It possessed me, and then it looked like me. It did a lot of things with me, it's a long story but that's kinda the gist of it at least." He looked deflated to be bringing up his past and you wrapped an arm around his back in support, rubbing his arm to comfort him and show him that you weren't upset. He turns to you with a hesitant smile, happily surprised at your lack of fear like you weren't just told that at one point a murderous spirit had possessed him.

"Ok, so the nogitsune sounds like our culprit but you killed it. So, what's up with that?" You heard Lydia mutter something about you being obvious and you chose to ignore it in favor of looking around the room to gauge their reactions to your question. The only one who looked slightly worried was Kira, so naturally you asked her your next question.

"Are you sure you guys killed it?" You were directing the question at Kira and she stiffened upon hearing it, sitting up straight as a board.

"Yes we are. Can we move on now?"

"I mean..." Everyone was once again quiet as Kira spoke up, voicing her opinion on the dark version of the spirit that she had.

"We don't know if it's dead. You can't really know, but we did a pretty good job and I don't think it'd have enough power to come back so soon. Again though, I can't be sure." Upon her information Scott stood up, collectively grabbing everyone's attention.

"Ok, does everyone have all their theories out?"

"What about voodoo?" Liam piped up while Scott muttered something that sounded like 'evidently not'.

"Vodou can't do that. Spirit possession isn't evil in Vodou, and actual Vodou dolls can't control people, especially not ones that're alive. I would say maybe it's a zombi but again, the perpetrators were living when it happened. Besides, there's no reason a Vodou practitioner good enough to pull this off would have any interest in murder, they have enough to deal with. Vodou is a practice, not the supernatural." While his idea was deflated Liam looked content with your answer and was prepared to listen to Scott, finally.

"Ok so for theories we have, nogitsune, and witch. Any other suggestions?" Scott gave the room a minute to start talking before he moved on, tired and wanting to get some sleep before the sunrise which was only in a few hours.

"Ok, Kira can you find all that old research we did on the nogitsune? Allison go back to Beacon Hills with Derek and Liam and look through the bestiary to see if we can get any information on witches-"

"Hey!" You interrupted, loudly proclaiming your lack of involvement in witch-related studies.

"Witches who want to kill people Y/n, not you. I think our best bet is the witch idea, unless it's something new entirely, then we'd be..."

"Fucked?" Isaac finished Scott's sentence for him, the action making Scott roll his eyes before returning to his speech.

"Alright, everyone be on the lookout ok? We're done here, let's go home everyone." Allison stood up from behind him as he finished, hands still intertwined. You got the feeling that Allison and Scott wouldn't be very vigilant tonight.

"So, home?" Stiles stood next to you after you both managed to maneuver out of the chair. You nodded and went with him out to the jeep, the night air making you freeze. You shivered when your back touched his car seats and he frowned, reaching behind him to feel around his back seat.

"Should I ask what you're doing?" You chuckled, arms wrapping around yourself to conserve body heat. Stiles triumphantly pulled a large piece of clothing out from his backseat making a victorious noise as he did so before handing it to you. Upon further inspection you realized that it was a hoodie and you thanked him while putting it on. It was big on you, the sleeves coming down over your hands to make little sweater paws and Stiles almost cooed at seeing how cute you looked. You tucked the hood under your head to serve as a neck rest and you closed your eyes as Stiles drove off to the address you listed.

[esmealux]

Bloody Hell

Part: 1 / 2

Setting: After 5a

Word count: 3K

Rating: T

Summary: Lucifer’s first period.

The elevator dings as Lucifer reaches the penthouse. ‘And the Devil’s back! I found your breakfast burritos and now a guy owes me a favour, so all in all, a successful trip,’ he tells her as he takes off his jacket and places it on the bar. With Chloe’s breakfast in hand, he turns towards his sofa to grin at her, only to discover she isn’t lying there, closer to ‘naked’ than ‘dressed’, like she was when he left to fetch her some food.

‘Detective?’ he calls out, walking up the steps to his bedroom. The bed is empty apart from the crumbled black silk sheets and her bra. His heart starts drumming a little faster against his ribcage.

‘Detective, where are you?’ His voice is rough and squeaky, the words almost resonating off the walls in the silent penthouse. Much too silent.

He starts searching the entire place, looking for signs of struggle and clues that’ll show him which one of his wretched siblings has kidnapped her this time. After investigating the living room and balcony thoroughly, turning every piece of furniture, looking behind every curtain, he goes back to his bedroom to check if she’s miraculously popped up. When she (still) isn’t under the bed, he’s inflamed, his annoyance and anxiety building into infernal heat, spreading through his body like a wildfire. ‘Detective, I swear to you, I will punish whoever-’

‘Lucifer, calm down,’ he suddenly hears her say, her voice muffled. The sound has relief washing over him, calming down his blazing body. ‘I’m in here.’

As he realises she’s in the bathroom, he hurriedly strides down the hall, presses his body to the door, and yanks down the handle. It’s locked. Panic still hot in his throat, he clenches his hand around the gold, ready to break in when she snaps at him from behind the door. ‘Jesus, Lucifer, what have I told you about privacy?!’

He wants to comment on her choice of exclamation, but something in her voice stops him. ‘Right. Sorry, Detective.’ He puts a hand on the door, tenderly. ‘I just- Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ she assures him, still a little peeved. ‘Could you just do something for me, please?’

‘Anything your heart desires,’ he says with a grin, the last embers of fear now put out by the sound of her slightly annoyed (and thus natural) voice.

‘Well, I really desire that you find my purse and bring it to me. I think I put it on the bar.’

He frowns, thinking. ‘Uhm, no. You didn’t. In fact, it’s not anywhere in the penthouse, I’m afraid.’

‘Wha- You already looked?’ she asks, surprised.

‘Well, technically, yes.’

He hears her mutter something along the lines of ‘what does that even mean?’ before she, quite sceptically, asks, ‘Are you sure? Lucifer, I’m not in the mood for pranks right now.’

When are you ever? he thinks, still disappointed she didn’t appreciate his creativity last time he tried to lighten the mood. But he’s not looking to rouse her now, so he tells her the truth, hoping it will allay her annoyance, inexplicable as he finds it. ‘If you really must know, I spent five full minutes searching the entire place for signs that you’d been hurt by one of my pathetic relatives, so yes, Detective, I am pretty damn sure your little too big and quite mum-ish bag isn’t here,’ he tells her. He hears her grunt a profanity he’s only ever heard her moan ecstatically in the throes of passion; now it’s laced with frustration and despair. Something is going on with her, and he needs to figure out what it is before she ruins more of his favourite words.

‘Why on Earth do you need your rucksack in my bathroom anyway?’

‘It’s not a rucksack,’ she tells him.

‘Ah, nice try! But I will not let you deflect my truly relevant question. What is it you need, Detective?’ He tries again, more inquisitively this time.

No answer.

His brow creases with worry and the slightest hint of an ache settles in his chest. ‘What’s going on?’

Several heart beats pass. He tries to remain patient but after seven seconds, his hands are banging on the door and yanking down the antique French handle aggressively. ‘Detective, let me in please! Did you use the razor Maze made you? I told you not to do that! Are you hurt? Did you trip? Do you have a nosebleed? Dearie me, did you get yourself poisoned again? I- Just please tell me what’s wrong. Whatever it is, I want to help,’ he says, his voice going softer towards the end. With anyone else, he’s not easily alarmed, but the Devil’s girlfriend does tend to get herself into danger a little more often than the average person.

He hears her sigh, short and sharply. ‘If you want to help me, you need to calm down,’ she tells him in the same slow and placid voice she uses on people who are bold enough to point a gun at her. ‘I’m fine.’

He takes a deep, shaky breath, her words easing his nerves a little.

‘Then why are you acting so… strange? And why in Dad’s name are you hiding in my bathroom? I mean, bloody hell, Detective, I was mere seconds from filing an MPR!’

She snorts, murmuring something about a drama queen. Then silence. A deep breath.

‘Well,’ she finally says, still an annoyed edge to her tone. ‘‘Bloody hell’ is not that far off, actually.’

He knits his brow. ‘Excuse me?’

She sighs deeply behind the door. ‘It’s just, uhm, you know… lady stuff.’

He blinks, dumbfounded.

‘Oh,’ is what he replies.

He would tease her about the euphemism, pretend he doesn’t understand, but he understands. He understands everything. Thinking back to the night before, he remembers her acting a little oddly then as well - giggly and gleeful one moment, fractious and bitter the next. He’d blamed it on her tipsiness, but now that he thinks about it, and does the math, she did take him hostage on a similar emotional rollercoaster ride, one, two, three, circa four weeks ago. And, yes, four weeks before that, too. The first time, he’d thought it was the stress from having her mother stay over for the urchin’s birthday. The second time, he’d indicted the particularly troubling case they’d been working. But it hadn’t (solely) been Penelope Decker nor a frustrating and possibly record-breaking number of dead ends that had made the Detective chaotically jump around the emotional spectrum to the point he’d worried she was suffering from a light personality disorder. No, apparently, it was the tiny rascals known to humans as ‘hormones’ who’d been wreaking havoc in her brain, manipulating her emotions – then and now.

He hasn’t uttered anything apart from the one (cleverly phrased) syllable since the revelation, and she must interpret his silence as lack of comprehension, because she begins to explain the bloody thing: ‘You know, when a woman-’

‘Yes, thank you, Detective, I am familiar with the concept of menstruation. Quite popular method of torture in Hell, actually,’ he informs her, cutting her biology lesson short.

‘Tell me about it.’

‘Well, surprisingly, it’s mostly-’

‘That was a rhetorical- Never mind.’

He hears more than just annoyance in her voice now; she’s in pain. His chest aches again. ‘Is something wrong? I mean, I have met a lot of women whose deepest desires were to be knocked out cold during Aunt Flo’s monthly visit, but at least we know for certain there isn’t a mini-Satan inside you, ravaging your uterus,’ he points out in an attempt to cheer her up. It’s mostly a joke, because it shouldn’t be possible—isn’t possible—and yet a part of him is still exceedingly relieved that she, after three weeks of thoroughly unprotected (and sinfully delectable) sex with him, isn’t carrying, well, the Devil’s spawn.

‘Kinda feels like someone’s ravaging my uterus,’ she says with a groan. His heart starts pounding, hard and deafening. Dark spots appear before his eyes as blood leaves his head.

‘I- that’s not- what?’

‘No, Lucifer. Relax. I’m not pregnant.’ She tries to sound mild and calm, but he can tell she’s aggravated, and horribly pained. ‘It’s just cramps.’

‘Oh, right,’ he mumbles, a full-blown panic attack officially averted. Still, something in her voice makes his teeth grit and his eyes flare red. He wants to punish whatever in her body is putting her through such… torture, wants to torture it back. Or, since he can’t really do that, just have a quick chat with his father and whoever assisted him in designing the inhumanly excruciating menstrual cramps. (And humans think the Devil is the one who’s truly evil.) But he realises a family discussion might not actually help his suffering Detective right now, so instead he wills his voice to sound calm and asks her, ‘Is there anything I can do?’

As he waits, quite impatiently, for her answer, he pulls out his phone and googles ‘what to do when your girlfriend’s surfing the crimson wave.’ He’s about to tap on the top hit when she replies, ‘Uhm, well, yes, there is, actually.’ Her words both surprise and delight him. He loves to feel needed.

‘Lovely! Whatever you need, I’m here to fix it as your very own PA.’  He puts his phone back, letting his hand stay in his pocket, and clarifies, ‘Period Assistant.’ As usual, she rudely ignores his clever play on words.

‘Okay, I just need to know if you have any… stuff? Like, maybe Eve had a stash somewhere?’

‘Stuff?’ he asks, beyond clueless as to what she’s hinting at.

‘Yeah, you know-’ she starts explaining when he interrupts her, suddenly remembering. ‘Well, come to think of it, Eve did indeed have a stash!’

‘She did?’ She sounds relieved, and it makes his heart flutter a little. ‘Do you know where? ‘Cause I searched all your cabinets, but I couldn’t find anything.’

‘Uh, I’m pretty sure it’s in my bookshelf,’ he says, already turning to go find it. ‘Would you prefer marijuana or molly?’

‘For God’s sake, Lucifer!’ she screams behind him, the door between them doing very little to lower the sound. ‘I don’t need freaking party drugs! This,’ she says, breathing angrily. A couple of seconds pass. ‘This is what I need.’

A tissue slides out under the door. With a raised eyebrow, he bends down to pick it up and sees that she’s scribbled some words on it with what appears to be an eyeliner. He doesn’t know what any of them mean. Well, ‘ibuprofen’ and ‘don’t be an ass’ he understands, but the rest are foreign to him.

‘Right, are these strippers’ names, or…? I think I’ve made a deal with an Always once, actual-’

‘They’re feminine hygiene products, Lucifer! I need feminine hygiene products! I want you to go buy me a whole lot I can leave in here, so I’ll never need to have this conversation ever again!’ she shouts, fuming all of a sudden. ‘So go out, and get me some tampons and pads—and that’s pads with wings! ‘Cause I swear to God, Lucifer, if you come back with pads that do not have wings, I might actually cut off your d-’

‘Yes, we get the picture, Detective!’ he cuts her off, chuckling nervously. It’s not that he hasn’t experienced his partner pissed before (he calls it Tuesday as a matter of fact), but she’s never threatened to mutilate him. ‘Whatever you need,’ he appeases her, his voice sweet and velvety. ‘Anything else?’ He reads the list she has given him, carefully paying attention to every request this time. ‘Right, ibuprofen for the- yes, your cramps. I’m afraid I’ve run out, but I’m sure I can get some wherever I’ll find,’—he squints his eyes to focus on the words — ‘Always ultra thin super long pads with flexie-wings and… Tampax pearl compak super. I mean, who the Hell names these things? Not that it matters, of course. If that’s what you need, that’s what you’ll get,’ he assures her.

As he studies her order closely one more time, his stomach growls and he realises that neither of them has eaten anything yet. He immediately offers to bring her breakfast to her; surely, her body needs alle the strength it can get to overcome whatever unpleasant side-effects other than dysmenorrhea his oh, so benevolent father has so generously granted the female population of the Earth.

‘Yes, please,’ she croaks meekly behind the door in response to his offer. ‘That would be nice.’

He goes to retrieve the burritos from atop the piano where he’d dropped them in the haste of his search. Once he’s back with them, he—gently—knocks on the door. After a couple of seconds, he hears the key turn before she opens the door just enough to reach out her arm through the crack. He’s about to give her the branded paper bag, when he thinks twice of it and instead takes her hand in his, entwining their fingers. Softly, he strokes the back of her hand and pulls it lightly, prompting her to come out. When she opens the door a little more, the sight that greets him stings his heart. Exhaustion has coloured the skin beneath her eyes purple and her usually ocean blue eyes a matte grey. Her posture is oddly sunken, like she wants to curl into a ball, and her chest heaves as she breathes heavily. She looks truly miserable, and yet she’s still a sight for sore eyes, as she stands there, wearing one of his white Prada shirts and…

‘Are those… my boxers?’ he asks her with a raised eyebrow and a pleased smile. She looks down to where his eyes have just landed. ‘Well, yeah, I couldn’t- my own underwear…,’ she trails off. ‘I’ve lined them with paper towels, just so I don’t, you know. I hope it’s okay.’ She looks strangely sheepish. He leans over to place a kiss on her forehead. ‘Oh, it’s more than okay. It’s sexy,’ he tells her with a grin. ‘And quite cute, to be frank.’

She chuckles, replacing the ache in his chest with a pleasant, buzzing warmth. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use the word “cute” before,’ she points out, looking up at him through her long eyelashes as she leans her forehead against his. He notices the hint of a smile on her lips, and his own smile grows wider. ‘Well, you’ve never worn my underwear before,’ he reminds her, nuzzling her nose. ‘Mmm, that is true.’ Her voice is nothing but a whisper as she leans just an inch forward to get a kiss from him, which he happily he gives her.

‘Why don’t you draw yourself a nice, hot bath,’ he proposes, booping her nose. Then an image from Jaws invades his mind, and warily, but with a glint in his eyes, he adds, ‘Unless that would make a true bloodbath.’ She pulls away from him, slowly but purposefully. Untangling their hands, she crosses her arms across her chest (he tries not to notice how it makes her cleavage deliciously peek out behind his hardly buttoned shirt). She glares at him with a look which, historically, means they will be communicating exclusively in scoffs, snorts, death stares and well, I am truly sorry for whatever it is I’ve done but can we please forget about it and go back to being a dynamic duo’s the rest of the day. With a short yet undoubtedly disapproving shake of her head, she snatches the breakfast bag from his hand before slamming the door in his face. ‘Detective, I-’ he stammers as the gush of air hits his front, possibly making his yet to be tamed bed hair look even more scandalous.

He hears the rustling and crinkling of paper as she takes out her breakfast. ‘List,’ she demands sharply with her mouth full—and not in the way that had him gripping the sheets till his knuckles turned white last night. By the sound of her voice, he’ll need to do right by her if he wishes to ever experience that again.

‘Yes, darling, I’ll do nothing but my best,’ he promises her, casting a last glance at the list in question before folding it neatly into his pocket. He starts walking down the hall when the sound of his name makes him turn on his heels to face the door. He senses another reprimand and braces himself, softly offering a simple ‘Detective?’ in response.

‘Thank you.’ Her voice is sweet and apologetic, all aggravation suddenly gone.

‘What on-’ he mumbles under his breath, completely bewildered by her emotional U-turn. He’s wise enough not to comment on it, however, smiles instead, glad he can be of use, and playfully, yet still in a tone that assures her he means no harm, says, ‘Well, it’s the least I can do for my menstruating partner.’

‘Please stop saying “menstruating”,’ she tells him between bites, sounding a little brassed off again. He considers asking her why but decides against it, responding with a simple ‘Noted’ instead.

He hears the shower start running and decides to depart, wanting to be back before she’s done. ‘Alright then, off I go on my quest!’ he sings out, hoping it’s loud enough for her to hear over the shower spray, but the water stops and she calls out a ‘what?’. She has probably already stepped into the shower cabin, adorning his bathroom with all her wet and naked glory. Oh, to be a marble tile on the wall, getting an unobstructed view of her exquisite br-

‘Did you say something, honey?’ she calls again when he hasn’t replied. It’s not the first time she uses the term of endearment, but it still makes warmth pool low in his stomach. He’s so smitten—not a cell in his body can deny that anymore. Especially not the part of his body that’s currently straining his tailored slacks.

He clears his throat and shamelessly adjusts himself.

‘Hm? No, I was just announcing my exit. Try not to bleed to death while I’m gone, will you?’

‘I can’t- That’s not possi-’ she stammers behind him as he makes his way to the elevator, grabbing his jacket as he walks past the bar. Before she can finish whatever protest she’s trying to enounce, he’s already in the elevator, sending a text to Linda:

What in the ever-living Hell does ‘pads with wings’ mean?

Read part 2, ‘Granniest Panties’, here

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E9; Chapter Nine, The Gate- [Pt. 5]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

The survivors turn up the heat on the monstrous force that's holding Will hostage, and Y/n's powers are put to the ultimate test in the process. Eleven makes plans to finish what she started.

A/n:.... yall ready for this???? + For some reason, the link isn't working but I looked all over and found this really bitchin [😉] synth score for your guys' scene. You of course don't have to listen to it or anything but it's REALLY cool and fits the scene well I think. It's called

Sorcerer by S U R V I V E

I recommend it! I understand though, if you don't 🥰Either way, happy reading! And yay, snowball next!!

Warnings: suffocation, noticeable amount of violence, more blood. Baddassery. Edit: a slightly tweaked sad endgame quote my subconscious slipped in there

||3rd Person POV||

Steve and the four party members now sit at the entrance of the tunnel that had brought them to the hub, all canisters now completely empty. The hub reeked of gasoline that manages to sting their throats despite their masks.

"You ready?" Steve asks, glancing back at the kids.

A chorus of muffled agreements ring out, and only then does he pull the lighter from his breast pocket.

Dustin looks up at Steve, sending him a curt and reassigned nod.

"Light her up,"

Steve sighs, taking one last look at their work. The tension in the air now palpable.

"I am in such deep shit,"

He flicks the lighter open, and in one swift click, it comes to life with a sharp and threatening hiss.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The flames in the fireplace grow brighter and far more intense as it reaches and swallows the bigger pieces of firewood. Will's screams have turned to violent grunts has his grip grows tighter around his mother's neck. Jonathan is already at her aid, trying with all his might to release her but Will's grip is unnaturally strong and unwavering.

Seeing this, Nancy jumps into action and quickly maneuvers around the bed to the fireplace. She can't bring herself to leave the poor injured girl passed out against the wall without sending several silent apologies to her. I'm sorry, Y/n! She makes it to the fireplace and pulls the tong loose from the fire where it had been cooking and shook a few logs loose.

The end was a bright and glowing shade of yellow, and Nancy fought a deep breath and the hesitation creeping up, but she had to do something! Her grip around the firepoker tightens until her knuckles turn white.

Behind her, the fire begins to pop as the loosened logs begin to shift, and several embers are sent flying. Several of them land on Will, angering him further. It's almost enough to make him let go, but he does not relent. The firepoker is already in his side, burning right through his shirt with a horrible sizzle, and the boy howls in pain, Joyce now set free.

His back arches in horrible pain, the stick plunging further into his side and another screech is let loose.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

This was it. It was now or never. The dogs weren't going anywhere, and he had to get El to the gate. Hopper's eyes flutter closed, and he counts to three under his breath, the cry of each beast echoing in his skull and beating against his chest.

One...

Two...

Three...

He throws himself through the door, gun first, and his finger on the trigger.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Joyce now towers over her son, spit flying and her voice strained from injury. Nancy had helped her to her feet and was now aiding the rest in restraining Will.

Joyce takes a deep breath as strained screams bellow from her.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SON!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The lighter in Steve's gloved hand cast out into the fume soaked air, it's small but greedy flame swallows the entire room in seconds. The vines once woven into the dirt come alive in seconds, and they reach the ceilings, writhing and squealing as the flames engulf them.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

A strong and booming roar erupts from deep within Will's chest, the deep voice of the Mind Flayer they had caught a glimpse of in the shed, returns at full force. His back arches once more, the back his head digging deep into the pillow. He is shaking violently now, as he had the night the lab had set the tunnels on fire.

Joyce stumbles back as his shaking grows more violent. His head arches back even further against all odds, and that's when they spot it.

"His neck!" Nancy cries, pointing feverishly as she returns to Jonathan's side. "Look at his neck!"

Several thick and dark veins began protruding through his skin as it crawled up his neck, and it looked as if they were full of dark sludge.

"The Mind Flayer's losing," Jonathan mumbles.

Will's head shoots up at the words, the veins have already spread to his face and even stretch across his arms now. They all jump back as his head whips off the bed, his eyes completely black. The Mind Flayer's grip on the boy tightens, his rage stronger than his pain at their audacity to tempt his strength with Henderson's presence.

"AND HE'LL DIE WITH ME!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The end of Hopper's gun finds its first target, but before he can pull the trigger he sees them writhe and hiss. Their slender bodies begin to shake violently in pain and for a moment he hopes...

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Go, go, go!"

The party does not hesitate, they are already on their feet and begin their sprint for the exit.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The bed begins to shake with him, every muscle in his body tensed with his fists clenched at his sides and shaking. They all watch in horror, his deep screams turn to grunts, not realizing what he is truly doing until it is too late. His left leg bursts free, the rope still dangling around his bleeding ankle and the others scramble to restrain him. His leg reels back before barreling into his mother's ribcage.

With his unnaturally given strength, she is sent flying a couple of feet, landing just in front of the bookshelf. His rage burns as hot as the fire that fuels it.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The fire in the hub spreads, already flames rain down from the ceiling as every inch is consumed.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The Demodogs shrill howls climb even higher, as they twitch. But their attention never leaves Hopper. They crawl and stalk towards him, heads bowed and hissing. They weren't weakened.

They were pissed.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Jonathan rushes to his brother, pinning his one free arm back down.

"You're... gonna lose... him!" The words are spit from Will's mouth, a struggle through the growing pain.

Just as the monster had hoped, Jonathan hesitates, his tearful eyes widening and his whole jaw quivers fighting back a sob. Will's fist breaks loose from his grip and before Jonathan can catch it, it meets his nose sending the older boy flying back into the couch, knocking his breath loose.

Another painful scream erupted as the fire beneath Hawkins spread, but he fights it as much as he can. He was almost free. But most importantly, he couldn't let them win. Not with her on their side.

His black eyes meet with the one they called Nancy, who had been kneeling over Joyce on the floor. Her wide eyes locked onto Will's, and she froze. Her eyes darted to the spike she had left near the pit and she made a run for it.

But he was too quick and had been expecting it. Just as he had with the mother, his heel collided with her jaw and sent her to the floor as he let out a painful scream. Every movement was pure agony, but he knew he could take them now.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Hopper's bullets are sent into several Demodogs, but he only manages to bring down two. The swarm was advancing on him, they had nearly crossed the glass when suddenly they stopped altogether.

In a matter of seconds, each of their screams blended into one and they began to writhe and shake, one of them even collapsed. Its body was still crying out in pain, but it was as if it could hold it's self no longer. One by one they began to mimic their sibling, their twitching growing ever violent. They were rooted in place, they couldn't walk.

That's when Hopper felt it. The ground beneath his feet had begun to rumble, the steady stream of cold air that had drifted in from the gate began to dwindle. He lowered his gun, his attention pulling him all around the room as it began to shake.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Let's go, let's go!"

Steve calls back to the group of kids, unable to run without checking behind him every few moments assuring everyone was with him.

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god," Dustin pants as he runs.

A screech leaves his throat as he finds himself on the ground once more, but it was no vine or root that tripped him. Everyone felt it, a great rumble that shook their very bones. They all stop and Max helps Dustin up to his feet.

"What is that?" Lucas calls over the booming rumbles.

By now, the vibrations were so intense, the dirt was being shaken loose from the vines and rained down from above.

"I think it's an earthquake!" Mike cries.

A light breeze picks up in the tunnel from where they're headed, carrying with it a warm toasty wave of heat that answered their question.

"No, not an earthquake!" Dustin's eyes went wide from behind his goggles as he looked to others excitedly. "It's Y/n!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The Henderson child had managed to pull herself from unconsciousness, and she now stood across the bed. Her arms were stretched out before her and a blazing fire resided in her eyes, a grunt pulled from deep within her throat. Three bloody lines where his nails had caught her ran diagonally down her vein covered face. Each vein protruded from her skin as blood poured from her nose and ears.

Like a broken dam, all that raw power trapped inside her burst free. Y/n was a supernova, a sight to behold as everything inside her exploded all around her. She allowed the weight of all that she had endured to shoot to the surface and engulf her completely. It awakened every cell in her body and touched every nerve in her system.

She didn't have to close her eyes to relive the painful memories as she did on the side of the road. The vast and seemingly neverending pool of dark thoughts and feelings swallows her whole and it all washes over her in angry red flashes.

《•••》

Like her friends, she had mounted her bike ready to flee the Wheeler house and away from the bad men who had found them. She paused in fear, looking over her shoulder at the man who stood before his fleet of vans.

He had stark white hair and his slightly wrinkled face and surrounding him was an aura of menace.

It was him. Martin Brenner, the power-hungry man responsible for the threat that had reached Hawkins. And the man obsessed with Eleven. And herself as she would soon discover.

It was the same man who struck fear into her very soul only minutes ago through the window.

His cold eyes bore into El, but then he turned his attention to her. Something about him and the way his eyes were fixed on herself... it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Her blood ran cold.

It was the day he had caught her scent.

•••

"Dustin? Dustin!" She shrieks.

Her brother's desperate calls for her break her heart, but it turns to fire when she hears the man's voice.

"Y/n, don't fight it. You belong with us. We are your true home. Come home to us, Nine"

•••

The intense and raw ache of her heart as she choked on every moment of silence El was in the bath. Everyone surrounds her as she floats silently amongst the saltwater, everyone including Y/n watching with bated breath. When her voice breaks the silence it is a soft whimper, a plea for life as she says the boy's name.

"Will?"

Y/n's hands grip the edge of the pool so tight she fears the skin of her knuckles will tear. Every moment of silence is devastating but the small snivel of Will over the walkie and what he says, deliver the final dagger to her heart.

"Y/n?"

《•••》

Y/n can feel the dagger even now, the devastating weight of all the strain and heartbreak flooding her lungs and escaping in an ear-piercing scream that moved the earth.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

El joined Hopper's side in cautious steps as she traveled through the tremors, her hand coming to wrap around his elbow to steady herself. Her widened brown eyes were surveying the shaking world around them, and she could see rubble breaking loose and raining down from the ceilings around them. The warm burst of heat hit her face and neck, and that is when her eyes meet with Hopper when it finally clicked.

Simultaneously their attention is pulled to the gate where the entire army of Demodogs begins collapsing into the dark abyss one by one. The darkness swallows their bodies and their many lingering wails of agony as they fall.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The underground team looked at one another in astonishment as the reality settled in, their hands still clinging to the grimy walls around them for balance. Steve broke from his temporary stupor and began waving the kids out.

"Come on, team, keep it moving! Keep it movin'!"

They fell into action, clambering back into line as they tried to make a break for the exit. They were close, but still had several turns to make. Steve helped the children through, catching them as they fell and sending them on their way with his eyes above their heads watching carefully. All the while in his sprint, Dustin cries out proudly into the air, a beaming smile hidden behind his bandana.

"Yeah, that's my fucking sister!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The world bent at Y/n's will, everything not screwed to the walls or floors broke loose as the cabin moved around all inside it. It was a movement so forceful and demanding, it moved all of Hawkins. A guttural battle cry pierced the air as her powers exploded into an unstoppable force that had awakened her full potential.

《•••》

"She disappeared... Bang," El said slowly, a saddened frown forming on her face. "Gone."

"So, my mom? She's...?" Y/n took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in her throat and El nodded.

•••

"Jane, let me put it this way. Does it not bother you that not only did your friend get a better life than us, but our lives were made worse because of it?"

•••

"This could be your home, you said it yourself, we're sisters[...] We'll look after each other. We understand each other. Y/n will never understand you. But I do. Would you like that, Jane?"

•••

"That pesky tag-along friend of hers, what about her?"

"I have no use for her. She's not to be trusted, I want her gone by morning."

《•••》

The heartbreak that fills her up inside no longer slows her down but instead fuels the fire in her chest. Not the Mind Flayer's hatred for her, but the fact it was using her best friend as a puppet. The awful things he was doing to Will, not only to hurt him but the ones he cared about.

《•••》

"Get out!" She winces, but this time she doesn't listen to him. "GO AWAY!"

"No. Not until I talk to Will."

"GO AWAY! GO AWAY! GO AWAY!"

"-Will," Joyce tries.

Will's small frame starts to move again, fighting as hard as he can against the restraints under the harsh light in the shed. His teeth are bared and his usual warm and kind eyes are dark and cold as they burn holes into her skull. Hopper has to pin him back again, but the hatred bottled up inside him for her is undeniable.

•••

"NO! NO! GO AWAY! NO! GET THE HELL OUT!" He screams. "GET OUT! GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!"

•••

Y/n watched tearfully as Joyce began to choke on her words at the pride of her son as she listened intently from the corner with a simultaneous swelling, and breaking of her heart. "You said she should have it because she was sad. She's sad, Mom, and I want to make that go away."

"I love you so much," Joyce tearfully coos. "So, so much."

The heartbreak evident in Joyce's voice brings a whole new level of pain to her heart, unable to imagine the position Joyce was in as his mother. The thought of watching your son endure such a horrific thing, not knowing if he'll even survive. It pissed her off even more.

•••

"...I asked you why you were being so nice to me, why you wanted me to be apart of your group,"

A small sob came out in the form of a chuckle, and she wiped a tear off her cheek.

"And you told me it was because..." her lip quivers as the words tumble out. "because that was your birthday wish."

A tear slips down Will's cheek, but his expression remains as still as stone. She can practically hear the breaking of her heart as she sees Will losing his battle before her very eyes. His body shakes violently in an attempt to regain control but the Mind Flayer quickly pulls him back down, swallowing him in darkness as he tries to silence him.

《•••》

Each of these moments are enough to send her over the edge, but the words she had yet to shake from her mind were the ones to do the trick. The words still bouncing violently around her skull, taunting her and reminding her that they were all moments away from losing Will forever.

As the storm inside her reaches its peak, swirling around her head and heart in a violent mass closing in on her, all she can hear are the last words she had heard from her best friend before he had attacked her.

"KILL HER, DAMMIT! KILL HER! KILL HER!"

The room grew from dim to blinding in a matter of astonish-filled moments.

Her s/c skin began to glow like a star, the cosmic force at work pumping hard through her veins. Nancy, Jonathan, and Joyce watched in awe as she comes alive, all the while Will's small and trembling frame twisting and kicking as he is engulfed in searing pain.

His screams vibrate with his body before his small frame shrinks in on itself like a dead spider. He straightens in seconds, his head, hands, and feet now glued to the bed as he bends in one final arc, his chest rising to the heavens. Will's mouth opens in another scream and a billowing cloud of inky black smoke escapes. It twists and unravels out from between his lips like a pitch-black tornado.

It grows larger and larger, circling over the boy and looms over the entire room as it had the last few days. Will's body goes limp, falling back onto the mattress as the dark mass zips across the room and through the front door breaking it open.

Nancy quickly recovers her footing and chases it out of the door to assure it's leaving for good. Sure enough, when she reaches the porch she spots the black dust circle the trees before disappearing into the sky.

The first thing that stops is the light, all that illuminates the room now is the dim lamps they had flipped on and light of the flames. Everything in the room begins to settle, the rattling of dishes and furniture, and dust rained down from the ceiling from where it had broken loose.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

By now, their trek back to the exit is halfway through, their gloves now completely damp from grasping the walls as they navigate through the tremors. But they find themselves slowing, meeting each other's eye excitedly when the earth gradually steadies again.

They picked up speed immediately, eager not only to escape the tunnels but to see their friend - and sister - again.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

A thud breaks the shocked silence as Y/n collapses to her hands and knees, coughing and panting for breath. The room is blurry and she only catches every other word. Her arms feel just as weak and strained and she allows herself to collapse against the wall nearby.

The scuffling of shoes enters her subconscious as she fights to understand what's going on. Y/n can barely register what is happening when she feels a hand lightly touch her shoulder. She nods either way and the figure scurries away.

It had been Joyce, who had pulled herself up from the ground and came to check on Y/n when she gave the all-clear. Her eyelids weighed a thousand pounds and she could feel herself falling asleep against the wall. She tried to stay awake, to know if Will was okay but again she found herself catching every few moments.

All heaters now unplugged, the door left open to let in the cold autumn air.

Jonathan had helped untie the rest of his restraints, and Joyce now sat at his bedside as he lay unconscious. His eyes were sunken, his eyelids dark. He was still awfully pale but already he looked more himself. Will's limp body shifts around as his mother lightly tries to shake him awake, her chest sore and her throat strained but she doesn't care. She just wants her baby.

"Will," she sobs. "Will. Please, Will. Will."

Through sobs of his own, Jonathan places one trembling hand onto his brother's head, brushing away the stray hairs as pleas leave his lips. "Come on, buddy. Come on."

"Please," Joyce wails. "Can you hear me?"

"Come on,"

"Will?"

With great struggle, his eyelids finally flutter open. When Will sees who is in front of him, he feels relief overwhelm him. His lips tug into a weak smile, eliciting an excited gasp from his mother.

"Mom?"

Will feels his limp and drained body being pulled into his mother's embrace, he happily welcomes it. His sobs of relief are buried in her hair and he can feel his shoulder dampening further with her own tears. His eyes are squeezed shut, and despite his lack of strength, he squeezes with all his might, never wanting to let go. He was all too afraid none of it was real, and he doesn't realize it to be possible but his happiness grows when he feels his brother join the hug. Jonathan locks his long arms around his family, like them, not ever wanting to let go.

Nancy has already returned, and when she found the Byers in a tearful embrace, she was happy to know the youngest was now okay. But worry remained and quickly she maneuvered through the now cluttered cabin floor to Y/n's side and knelt to her knees to check on the poor girl.

Y/n's head was propped up against the wall, her chest moved up and down in shallow breaths but the blood seemed to have stopped flowing. Nancy lays a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder, pulling her from sleep. Y/n looks up around the room, trying to see through her foggy vision who was with her now.

Nancy whispered to her softly, her thumb subconsciously running soothing circles into her shoulder as her mother always did for her when she was unwell. "Y/n, are you okay?"

"I..."

She tries to speak, but her mouth is too dry. Her dry tongue meets her dried and cracked lips as she tries to find her voice and that is when she notes the taste of salty copper on her tongue. Her blood had mixed with tears, she hadn't even realized she had been crying. When her vision clears, it lands on Will's trembling form as he clings to his mother and brother in relief.

Her eyes begin to sting, and she looks at Nancy, trying to form words but none seem to come. It feels as if a rock sits in her throat, and she can feel more tears streak down her cheeks stinging the scratches on her face. She should be happy that Will was alright! She was, but what she had just done...

It was all too much for her at that moment, and sobs choked her airways. Y/n's limbs were growing heavier by the second and she felt herself collapse into Nancy's shoulder. Nancy pulled Y/n in, her eyebrows knitting together in a sorrowful frown. Y/n's tears and blood soaked her neck and shirt further, and like Joyce, she couldn't care less. Her arms wrapped around the girl's shaking form and began rubbing her back soothingly.

"You did it, Y/n," she whispers, eyes closed, holding back tears of her own. "You were so great..."

The words coax another sob out of the Henderson girl as all her emotions come flooding out, no longer held back. The words Nancy speaks to her are the words she hadn't known she had needed to hear.

"It's okay," she mutters. "It's over, now. You can rest."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The rest of the pack had disappeared down into the abyss, Hopper's right arm still secured tightly around El's shoulders in a protective manner. The warm wind gusting through the broken glass separating them from the abyss gingerly fades away, allowing the cold atmosphere leaking in from the gate to return.

The earth had stilled completely, leaving behind an eery silence that rose the hair on the back of their necks. They didn't have to say anything, but when their eyes met, they knew then and there that Will was safe.

Y/n had done it.

As if reading their thoughts, the walkie Hopper holsters crackle loudly disrupting the deafening silence, and Jonathan's voice booms over the other side.

"Chief, are you there? Chief, do you copy?"

Hopper hastily draws the walkie from his pocket and up to his lips, his breath shaky. "Yeah, I copy."

"..."

Both pairs of eyes land on the gate before them as Jonathan speaks, dread soaks them to the very bone and the icy chill returns to the stale air.

"Close it."

||Reader's POV||

"Close it,"

It takes about all the energy I have but I manage to peel my eyes open at the sound of Jonathan's voice. He's speaking into a ham radio attached to the wall, and his face is hardened in a frown.

The room shakes once very suddenly, or at least it feels like it does as my head throbs. I groan, my eyes screwing shut. I hear more footsteps, and the low steady creak of the bedsprings dipping as Jonathan takes a seat next to his brother.

It all washes over me again, the intensity of it all. My chest tightens and I feel more tears brimming. It hurts to breathe, to move my chest since my entire body is aching, every muscle.

But I also feel... Really good. Finally confronting all of my pain, and letting it all out... In a way, it felt like fresh air and natural light streaming in after years of living in a dark and stale room. The change felt good.

It's an intense and bizarre cocktail of emotions that barred my thinking and made it hard to function. But over it all, I know one thing for sure. I need to rest.

I'm not sure I could do anything else if I tried, but I'm just thankful it's over. And above all, that Will is safe. Still, I can't quite wrap my head around what I had just accomplished, everything that still sits on the surface.

I feel more tears squeeze past my eyelids as the grief washes over me in its usual steady waves. They streak down the sides of my face and disappear through my scalp, tickling my cheeks as they glide across my skin. It finally clicks that I'm no longer on the floor, but the others must have moved me to the couch where I now lay on my back, head propped against a woolen pillow. The searing hot tears diverge in many paths in a new batch and now soak into the creases of my ears.

My joints scream at me in protest as I reach limply to swipe away as many tears as I can, my eyes still closed and my lip screwed in a quiver. On instinct, my palms travel across my face as I try to rub away the tears, and the blood from my nose and ears but I surprise myself with a whimper.

I barely register a small and gentle gasp and the scuffle of footsteps heading towards me as I try to understand why my face is stinging. I feel the couch dip slightly, and a pair of soft hands touch my wrists urging me to pull away. Soft shushing captures my attention and I recognize it to be Joyce. I fight against the pain of the soft light illuminating the cabin that sears my throbbing head to look at her, and it takes a moment to adjust but for the first time since I opened my eyes I can see clearly now.

Joyce sits next to me, her eyes are swimming in tears as looks at me and her lips are stretched across her face in a beaming smile, though her bottom lip still quivers. I feel more tears escape as I try to find words, but none come and that seems to break her more.

She shakes her head with the same expression still fixed on her face and sniffles. When she speaks her voice is still hoarse and raspy but I can still make out the pride in it.

"I know, honey. I'm so, so sorry." I feel her hand intertwine with mine and give it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm so sorry,"

Through my blurry vision I make out Nancy's figure approach us from behind me, and she hands something to Joyce who mutters a thank you. Her hand releases mine as she unfolds what Nancy had brought her, and I realize now that it's a wet cloth. She bunches it up and meets my eyes with a soft motherly gaze.

"This might sting a little, but it'll help, okay?"

I nod, my eyes fluttering closed again as a shakey sigh escapes. I feel the cool cloth meet my skin, stinging the three prominent streaks across my face. I bite back a hiss, feeling soothed just ever so as I hear her muttering softly to me.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Almost done,"

The worst of the pain begins to fade and my eyes flutter back open. She pulls the cloth away to turn it over, and I spot the dark smears of blood already soaked inside. She brings it back to my face, dabbing away the dried up streaks that had tightened my skin under my nose and the streaks under my ears.

Joyce pulls away, bunching up the cloth dropping it in her lap forgotten, her eyes back on me. It hurts to swallow, so I can feel the uncomfortable build up in my mouth as more tears seem to brim. I catch Joyce's hands gently reaching for mine and I let her take it, both her calloused but soft hands sandwich my own and it forces me to meet her eyes.

"You are so, so brave," she chokes, tears spilling from her eyes. "and so strong..."

Her head shakes back and forth slightly as if trying to will the tears away but she can't. She can only try to compose herself long enough to get the words out. Her right-hand breaks free and her thumb gently wipes away one of many stray tears on my cheek and comes to stroke my chin in one gentle swipe.

"I'll never be able to thank you properly for what you just did..." her lip quivers violently now, but the large smile returns, breaking out on her face as she speaks with absolute certainty. "I am so proud of you,"

An audible sob shakes my body, and with some struggle - and help from her - I pull myself up and into Joyce's arms. She gladly pulls me in, sobs leaving her lips as well and I feel a different kind of warmth spread through my chest, all the way to my fingertips and toes. It wasn't a hostile warmth, but a comforting one, and I realize for the first time why both her and Nancy's embrace and words meant so much to me.

It was the warm motherly reassurance I hadn't realized I'd been missing. My own mother had no knowledge of my powers, my past, anything that had truly happened in the past year. And therefore knew nothing of the enormous weight the Upside Down, my powers, Will, all of it, had on me. And to have the acceptance and reassurance of Joyce - even Nancy - after going so long without it, felt almost intoxicating in the moment.

I burrowed my head in the crook of her shoulder, and as Nancy did, her palms rubbed soothing circles into my back as she let me cry into her hair. I kept hearing her mutter the words softly in my ears, assuring the words stuck inside my brain so I wouldn't ever forget it.

"I'm so proud, baby, so proud," her voice was low and soothing and she cradled me. "You did so good."

My heartbeat had already slowed significantly in her embrace, and it felt as if I had melted into her shoulder. She never broke the hug, showing me she was here for me as long as I needed her which I greatly appreciated. Finally, my eyes fluttered open and I slowly pull away.

For the first time since waking, I am getting a good look around the cabin, and my mouth parts slightly in shock. It looked as if it had been ransacked, so many things had fallen to the floor and I looked at her worriedly. She smiled, shaking her head.

"It's okay hon, it's fixable," she assured, she then picks up the bloodied cloth from her lap and sends me a reassuring smile. "I'll be right back,"

I nod silently, still fighting back a wince as I look behind me at the fallen stools at the breakfast bar and the many things littering the floor that had once been on shelves. The lamp on the table had fallen over and several shards of glass from the bulb were sprinkled across the table and floor.

My eyes wander back to the living room and my breath catches in my throat when I see Will. Jonathan and Nancy sat on either side of him talking to one another as well as him. But he was looking at me, and I felt my heartbeat spike significantly. His face was full of guilt as he had been examining my face, most likely where he must have scratched me. He didn't break away when I met his gaze, and for a moment we shared silent apologies.

I offered him a weak smile, telling him it was okay and he seemed to melt. And yet, the sight was enough to make my insides melt as well. It was such a wonderful sight to see after the past few days, knowing and seeing him okay. My stomach begins to flutter when I see a blush creep up on his cheeks. It wasn't hard to spot given his still paled skin, but I felt the heat rising in my cheeks as well.

But just as soon our attention was pulled to the lights around the cabin. It drew everyone's attention, including Joyce who paused at the kitchen sink as the lights grew brighter and brighter. The cabin grew blindingly bright for the second time that night, and halfheartedly my palms raised off my lap to silently say 'it isn't me this time.'

My brain races to connect the dots as my eyes squint through the blinding light of the bulbs when it finally clicks. Jonathan and Nancy seem to have made the same connection when I meet their wide-eyed stare, the word tumbling out of my mouth in a whisper.

"Eleven."

||3rd Person POV||

༄ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 ༄

The final lock is secured with a defined click, signifying the end of Hawkins Laboratory. One of the final many guards to lock up steps away from one of many chained up entrances revealing the large signs plastered over the wall behind him.

WARNING RESTRICTED AREA

The man climbs aboard the jeep and no sooner does it take off down the main exit of the now-abandoned lot, bleeding into line with the rest of the troops.

Thanks to Nancy and Jonathan and the help of an eccentric conspiracist, Murray Bauman during the unfolding events of the prior month, the three had concocted a plan to take down Hawkins Lab. With enough proof - a secret audio tape of Sam Owens discussing the cover-up of Barb's death - were able to fabricate a smaller conspiracy big enough to take down the lab.

A conspiracy that was now being broadcasted nationwide.

"Since the release of the incendiary tape, the once quiet town of Hawkins, Indiana, has spent time in a place it never expected."

One by one the line of military troops file out of the main entrance to the lab for good. Sat comfortably in a lawn chair outside his parked van was none other than Murray Bauman, who watched the parade of troops merrily with a smug grin on his bespeckled face.

"The national spotlight."

The man giggled happily, one hand leaving his pocket and waving an exaggerated salute at the man in the jeep. Glaring as the car carried him by, he sent the smug man the finger without breaking contact from the road. Murray's giggles only grow more mischievous, and he sends a very kiddish wave to the rest, his cheeks sore from smiling.

"Under mounting pressure, several high-ranking members from the U.S Department of Energy have admitted involvement in the death and cover-up,"

Several sullen figures dressed all in black surround the polished coffin being lowered into the ground. Three of these figures, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, and Steve Harrington.

"of Hawkins resident Barbara Holland who died due to exposure to an experimental chemical asphyxiant, which had leaked from the grounds of the lab."

Mr. And Mrs. Holland stand in each other's embrace at their daughters grave in tears, grasping tightly to one another. The long search for their daughter over in the most devastating conclusion.

"We send our own April Kline to Hawkins to speak to residents,"

The news anchor's voice echoes throughout the Hideaway bar from the small television set sat high on the shelf. The walls and shelves are decorated with many chunky Christmas lights for the upcoming holiday. The bar is filled with small chatter that fades out over the TV and the occasional clinking of glasses.

"residents who told us they thought they lived in a safe town. A kind of town where, they say, nothing ever happens."

The entrance to the Hideaway is pulled open with little strain, the warm air trapped inside is swept out with the demanding winter breeze that quickly takes its place. Wrapped up in a thick winter coat, Hopper steps inside and takes a quick look around. It hadn't changed much since his last visit over a year ago during his investigation of the lab and Will's "death". Funny enough, he used to frequent the place often, but since El had entered his life, he had quickly lost interest.

His eyes find the man he had come here to meet across the bar, sat at one of several booths enjoying a ham and turkey sandwich. Making his way across the bar, Hopper discards his heavy jacket, folding it up against his chest and tossing it in the corner of the booth before taking a seat across from Dr. Sam Owens.

"Cheif-o," the man pipes with a smile.

"How's the leg?" Hopper questions with a small smile.

Owens nods, swallowing the last of his bite and gestures to his right leg.

"Better," he chips. "Pretty sure my football career is over."

The two men share a small chuckle. Owens picks up the half of his sandwich he had touched and pushed the plate full of chips and the rest of the sandwich across the table in offering.

"Want some of this? No way I'm gonna finish it."

A tight, polite smile plasters over Hopper's face as he waves it off and gives him a shake of the head.

"No. I'm, uh... on a diet." He admits, thinking of El.

He had done a lot of thinking, and he knew now that he wanted this kid in his life for good. And that meant taking good care of himself so she had someone looking out for her.

It was also the very reason for this visit, and why he had been so anxious to talk to Owens. He stared at the man across from him as he spoke. Not bothered to try and hide the intimidation in his eyes as he prepared to reap the threat that was sown back in Hawkins Lab all those nights ago.

"Well, you're a better man than me," Owens says, immediately perking as he turns to his discarded jacket pocket. "Hey, got a little something for you."

Hopper sighs, leaning further back in his seat a bit taken aback. He watches curiously as Owens pulls a sealed white envelope out, places it on the table, and slides it across into his hand.

With a furrowed brow, Hopper picks it up and the envelope opens with a small crinkle. A somewhat thick piece of parchment lays inside that makes his heart skip a beat, all previous intimidations he was prepared to throw at the doctor vanish completely. He tucks the ends out of the envelope to get a better look, also being cautious of any possible prying eyes but no matter how many times he reads the words it doesn't seem real.

STATE OF INDIANA Certificate of Birth

This Certifies that according to records if the State of Indiana

Name 𝙹𝙰𝙽𝙴 𝙷𝙾𝙿𝙿𝙴𝚁​​​​​​ Was born in 𝙷𝙰𝚆𝙺𝙸𝙽𝚂 Child of 𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙰 𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂

"Congratulations, Pops," Owens smirks.

Hopper's wide eyes dart to across the table to the man watching his reaction. "I thought--"

Owens shrugged. "Sometimes I impress even myself."

Hopper slips the parchment back into the sleeve, and folds up the envelope before slipping it into his jacket pocket where he wouldn't lose it. His defenses creep back up at what the man says next, though not as bad given the progress.

"Still, I'd let things cool off for a while, if I were you."

Hopper subconsciously squares his shoulders, his long and bulky arms coming to stretch across the table in an intimidating manner. His brows bunch together in a creased frown, tilting his head.

"How long is a while?"

He tries to remain patient with the man, but it proves more difficult than anticipated considering the heavy weight of his guilt. Hopper couldn't deny he played just a big of a part in El's captivity in the cabin, even if it was out of good intentions. All the more reason he was now determined to make it right.

"Want to be safe? Give it a year," Owens answers.

Hopper's brows shoot up. "A year?"

Shit.

His chest deflates in a sigh and snatches the untouched sandwich off the plate, taking a rather large bite out of the side. He thinks for a moment, an idea forming in his head.

"What about one night out?"

"One night?"

"Yeah," he hardens, quickly attaching himself to the idea, knowing how important it was to El. "How risky would that be?"

"What's so important about one night?"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Link down below in the comments as usual, and of course, BLACK LIVES MATTER!!

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[codevassie]

a heart he couldn’t control (destined to love and hate and damn forever) Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | On Ao3

CV:  You know when you're smelling candles and you smell so many candles that you can't tell which ones smell good or bad anymore? Let's just say I don't know what this chapter is. There's a lot of words. And a lot of important things happen in it. And I've gone a bit insane trying to make it. Hope you enjoy <3

CW: Kidnapping, Guilt, Historical Discussions of Prejudice, Mentions of Death, Unreality, Weapons

@winterwynd @escalatingtoofast

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

When Remus was little, nothing but a scoundrel on the streets, orphan, alone but his brother and a hyper-defiant attitude, he never used to dream.

Each morning, Roman would wake and recount a world better than their present–where a wealthy family came to town and adopted them; where they grew up and ran a bakery together, with all the bread and cookies they'd ever desire; where Remus didn't have to hide his magic; where Roman didn't get ganged up on in alleys.

Where they had… more than this.

Dreams kept Roman going, and, in a way, it kept Remus going too, hearing his brother tell all these magnificent stories–all while Roman wasn't even awake to imagine them. A lot of them didn't even make sense, but those were Remus' favorites. He loved hearing the impossible ones–ones where you walk out the door of your house and you fall into the river, or dive out the window and fly into the sky.

Remus never got any of his own, or if he did, he never remembered–until he lived in the caves, at least.

His first week waking in his new “home” was plagued by nightmares. Virgil told him it had to do with the magic running freely through the caves. Out there in the towns, among the regular people, magic was obsolete, dried out like a desert. In the caves it was everywhere. Where before Remus’ head was dry, it could weave worlds upon worlds with a bit of magic.

Dee thought something similar. He said Remus had been repressing his magic in order to hide it. However, now that he was in the caves, it was still difficult to access. The magic was blocked up like a dam, and that caused his psyche to go into turmoil.

The witch, on the other hand, thought they might be visions. That hadn't gone over well.

They never were visions–not that they could make out. Not once did Remus dream of anything that had once or would be true. So in the present day, as Remus went to sleep on the fifth night Roman had been gone, he didn't worry too much when he realized he'd walked into a nightmare.

That, really, should have been what tipped him off. Remus never had lucid dreams, and while he couldn't control a thing in this one, his mind knew well enough this wasn't his reality.

Remus walked along a corridor in the castle, one that he didn't recognize very well. In his hands he held a long sleeve of parchment, marked all over in different types of ink and at least five different hand-writings. Gripping the edges of the paper, he noticed his fingers were bedecked in rings with heavy jewels and, on the thumb, a large crest. His hands were wide and aged, and paler than usual. His shoulders were heavier, but his mind felt lighter. Remus wasn't Remus in this dream.

Strange. He still knew he was Remus, but that’s not what his voice or body understood.

The man–whoever Remus was–sighed and rolled up the parchment restlessly. He bopped the paper to the side of his leg, looking about the hallway and to a room a couple paces off. The closer he drew, the easier his shoulders relaxed. No sound came from the room, and that nurtured something content in the man’s chest.

Until, that is, he rounded the corner and through the doorway.

It was a nursery, from what Remus could tell. An ornate crib stood at the center of one wall, a carousel of horses hanging like wind chimes above. The room was dark, lit only by the blue light of the night, shining in easily from the wide open windows. The rug was soft and plush, fit for a baby to crawl safely, and there was a shelf of toys and books in the corner.

Something felt wrong. Remus didn’t know what it was, but going by his sudden gasp, the man did.

He rushed into the room, going to the cradle first. It lay empty. His heart dropped, abandoned down a well like a draw bucket without a string. There was a noise behind him, and he spun.

There, closer to the bookshelf, was a bundle of hair and fabric. When she looked up, the king bolted over, heart again in his chest, but pounding, hammering a painful dent into his ribcage.

“Yolanda? My love,” he said, kneeling by her side and taking her into his arms. “What is the matter? Where is Janus?”

Yolanda? Remus wondered, tilting his head in thought. The head in his dream remained unmoved. Janus?

The names seemed familiar, but Remus couldn’t remember- He was so tired of not remembering.

“She took-” the woman panted, barely able to get her words out before a coughing fit seized her. The man helped her to sit up, eased her into a position to aide her air passage. The man said nothing, kept an appearance of calm and reassurance, but he was scared to death. Remus could feel it.

The woman was crying. She was sobbing as she tried to get her voice to work, grasping at her throat. “Easy,” the man said softly. “Easy, Landa.” But she couldn’t stop crying. Finally, the man had to ask. “Please. Where is our boy?”

The woman, Yolanda, breathed once, body shaking fiercely. “He’s gone,” she whispered, the sound of a broken woman. Remus didn’t know what was happening, but his own heart stopped. Something unthinkable had happened here.

“Guards! Guards!” the man turned his head to yell out the door, raising minutely away in the moment.

But the woman was already shaking her head. “It won’t help. She took him hours ago. I couldn’t- I couldn’t move-”

The man placed a hand to her shoulder again. There were no sounds of rattling armor. The castle was silent.

This should have never happened. Where was everyone?

“Where? We must know which way to send the men. I will go with them – I have to go with them,” the man rambled. The woman clutched his arm, beckoned him to look at her. She wept, but her eyes were fierce, commanding.

“You must find him,” she said.

Remus felt the man’s eyebrows furrow. “I will.”

“She will pay for this,” she said, voice shaking in barely restrained anger. “She took my baby.”

“Where did she go?” the ringed man asked.

The woman’s eyes vacantly moved across the room to the blowing curtains at the balcony window. The man followed her gaze, frowning.

“She scaled the tower,” he said, voice terrified. His son… this kidnapper had put him in so much danger already.

“No,” the woman said. “She appeared. And then… disappeared.”

The man looked back, expression puzzled. Before he could ask, however, her gaze met his, eyes dark and disheveled hair barely concealing her fiery look.

“She had magic.”

Suddenly, the room went dark. Remus felt his body jolt, and he blinked, head whipping around, back and forth, back and forth. Black spots danced before his eyes as they grew accustomed to the pitch black room around him.

He was no longer in the man’s body. He had woken up. But he was no longer in his room either.

Remus was in the nursery from his dream. It was dustier. The curtains were drawn, and looked to have been that way for a long time. But it was unmistakable. Virtually nothing had changed in the room. And now that he was awake, he understood where he was.

He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself, shutting his eyes.

There was still so much he didn’t understand.

-/-

If they’d thought the library was difficult, then Logan’s house was a whole other challenge. The place was a library in itself.

Roman had been thumbing through volume after volume all night, trying to pinpoint something that might point to Virgil or this ‘Dee’ guy. They were looking for anything at this point, and that made the search even more difficult. If only they’d had something a bit more specific, something to go off of.

He was planted at the coffee table, hunched over and trying not to think about the crick that was forming along his spine. He flipped a page, squinting to understand what it was saying through the fog in his brain and the dim candlelight.

Earlier, Patton had cast a light to illuminate the room a bit better, but after hours of tireless research, it had gone out. Patton had gone home a while ago, hinting pretty strongly that he expected Roman to follow. Roman hadn’t, and that meant he had no Patton to recast it.

Roman vaguely heard someone walk into the room. In his periphery he saw a figure lower itself to the floor across the table. “My prince,” it said in an even voice. Roman blinked up at the man, clearing his vision of letters and misshapen words he could no longer understand.

“Oh, hey Logan,” he said, giving a tired smile. He’d never seen the man out of a tie. He was in a t-shirt and some pajama pants, eyes soft and still behind his glasses. It was funny seeing him so calm after the stress he’d been under earlier.

“Have you found anything?” Logan asked kindly. Odd, Roman rarely heard emotion in the man’s voice. Logan didn’t seem like the type to slow down his thought process enough to implement it.

But Roman just shrugged. “It’s a bit hard to figure out what he meant,” he said. They’d come to Logan’s house assuming he’d know the exact book Virgil had meant. Turned out Logan was just as clueless as they were.

Actually, more so. Logan hadn’t even known Virgil was gone.

Logan knocked his glasses askew in an attempt to rub his eyes, giving a small sigh. Roman noticed there was still tension in his shoulders–the same tension that had grown there after they’d explained everything.

“Hey,” Roman spoke up, too tired to put himself under any kind of filter. Earlier he’d left all of this up to Patton, afraid to screw it up. Comforting was more in Patton’s capabilities anyway. Now Roman just couldn’t keep himself back. “I know you’re worried about Virgil, but you should get some rest.”

Logan adjusted his glasses, putting them back in place as he scrutinized Roman. In a moment Roman was wriggling in place, regretting his decision to be open, but then Logan let out a breath that somewhat resembled a chuckle, shaking his head.

“Funny,” he said. “I came out here to tell you the same thing.”

Roman stared for a second then cracked a smile. “That is funny,” he said, too tired to say anything clever.

“Roman,” Logan said, voice a bit more somber. Roman looked back to him and took note of his frown. His hand hovered over the book in front of him protectively. “We all want to help him, but we can’t if we exhaust ourselves.”

“I’m not exhausting myself,” Roman said, shaking his head. “I work nights all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s not healthy,” Logan said. “Your body needs rest to function properly.”

Roman looked back down at the book. “I’ll rest when we’ve gotten Virgil back,” Roman muttered, trying not to come off too irked. Logan was just trying to help.

“I know this is likely not something you want to hear,” Logan put a hand over the page Roman was trying to make out, “But we may not get Virgil back for some time. Things like this take time.”

“Then I’ll work night and day to make it happen,” Roman said, head snapping up with a scowl. His blood was boiling for some reason–the same as it had been when he’d talked to Patton in the library.

“Neglecting yourself will not bring Virgil back any faster,” Logan said, his own voice tighter now too. Unlike Patton, he would match Roman in intensity rather than try to soothe it. “In fact,” Logan carried on, “It would rather slow it down.”

“You don’t know that,” Roman said, heart speeding up at the thought. He couldn’t rest. Not when Virgil needed help. The more he tried, the faster it would help–it had to.

“Then tell me, are you actually absorbing anything you’ve been reading for the past hour?” Logan asked.

Roman pulled the book back from him, holding it close to his chest. “Yeah, of course!” he said, voice defensive.

“What is it you’re reading then?” Logan asked. Roman stopped, thinking for a moment. “I’ve read all these books, Roman. I know what that one is about too. So tell me; what is it about?”

“Give me a moment!” Roman argued, trying to grasp something, anything that he remembered. Was this the one on the northern regions or the fiction story about wolves? Roman had lost track.

“Roman,” Logan said, drawing his attention back. Logan sighed, something too close to pity crossing his features for Roman’s comfort. He shifted, clutching the volume tighter and looked on almost in fear as Logan opened his mouth. “Did you notice the inscription at the front of that one?”

Roman furrowed his brow, pulling the book away from his chest. No, no he hadn’t noticed an inscription. Setting it back down on the table, he flipped to the front, keeping a hand on his page to not lose his place. On the title page, he found it.

Logan,

I don’t know if you remember, but this was the first book you lent me. That copy was a library book, so I thought you might like your own. I know you own the library and all, but I hope you like it.

Virgil

Roman was frozen, eyes going again and again over the words. The letters were in small, cramped script, but he could tell it was carefully written. He hovered over Virgil’s name with the pad of his index finger, holding his breath. A part of him felt it would flake apart just at his touch.

“Virgil gave you this,” he said at last, glancing up to Logan’s face. There was sorrow there if you could look between the lines. He had sobered up from his exhaustion, placing a mask of emotionlessness on, but Roman could see it like a reflection. “Do you think this is it? Is this the book?”

To Roman’s disappointment, Logan shook his head. “I doubt it. He could have simply gone to the one in the library. It would be a lot easier than borrowing this one from me.”

“What if there’s something hidden in this one specifically?” Roman asked, desperate at this point. He felt so close, yet Logan didn’t look convinced at all. Could nothing be easy? Couldn’t Roman just do this one thing right?

“If there is, then I doubt you’d find it as tired as you are. It would have been very cleverly hidden considering I’ve reread that particular volume many times throughout the years.”

Roman furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Is it that good?”

“Not particularly,” Logan said. Something soft flashed across his face as he gazed at the volume Roman held so possessively. “It’s mostly for sentimentality’s sake, I suppose.”

Roman looked again at the book, at the inscription. “Oh,” he said, understanding.

“Virgil is like family, you see,” Logan said. “I’ve known him for years, so when I accept that I need rest in order to help him, it is not me giving up on him. I am not standing by while he is back there. I am simply doing what is in my power to get him back. As long as I am healthy, I will be at my full power to figure out a solution to get him back. Do you understand?”

Logan said this like it was a challenge, like he was daring Roman to argue with him on this, and Roman realized that he had given Logan the wrong idea completely.

“Of course!” he said, eyes wide. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant I needed to do this. Of course you’re helping Virgil. Of course you deserve rest.”

Logan folded his hands on the table, leaned forward to look Roman dead in the eyes. “Then why not you, Roman?”

Roman’s heart rate picked up. He leaned back, eyes darting around as he suddenly wanted nothing more than to avoid eye contact. “I just need to keep going. It’s different.”

“Why is it different?” Logan asked. “Why do you need to keep going? Why do you need to push yourself and hurt yourself to try to help Virgil?”

Roman frowned, eyes going back to Logan. “I’m not hurting myself.”

“You are,” Logan said. Roman’s hands turned into fists, but not from anger. From confusion. From something a little too close to vulnerability.

His voice went lower. Roman’s eyes bored into the table. “It’s just different.”

“Different how?”

His hand drifted above the inscription, but he didn’t touch it. Roman couldn’t bring himself to. He was unworthy.

“I’m the reason,” he said. He was greeted with silence, but he couldn’t look up. Couldn’t look Logan in the eye. Roman and Patton had already told Logan the full story. He knew it was Roman’s fault this had all happened, but Logan hadn’t actually said anything to the prince about it yet. Patton had forgiven him, but Patton had always been too nice for his own good. Logan surely wouldn’t be so forgiving. “Why should I get to rest when every second he’s there, anything that witch is doing to him, it’s all my fault?”

“You… feel responsible,” Logan said, as if it was only now that it had occurred to him.

“Of course I feel responsible. I made that deal,” he said.

“The deal that she pretty much forced you to make,” Logan said. “That deal?”

“I still made the deal , Logan,” Roman said, imploring the man to understand. Logan was smart. He should get this. “I knew someone would suffer for it. I knew someone I would come to care for would suffer for it.”

Logan squinted at him, one moment confused and another looking older beyond his years. He seemed both weary and wary as he examined Roman, and the prince shifted in place at the attention.

“What?” he finally asked.

“How do you shoulder the weight of a country while so prone to guilt on things out of your control?”

“I’m sorry ?” Roman asked, aghast.

Logan shook his head, resting it on his hands where he’d propped them up on the table. “I’m sorry,” he said in return. “I just mean, you must have had to make tough decisions before. Nothing is cut and dry in politics.”

“I-” Roman’s eyes shifted around again, refusing to make contact as he came up with an answer. “I mean, yeah . Doesn’t mean I’m not responsible for those either.”

“You’re responsible for the well-being of your nation, but all decisions have unforeseeable outcomes. Surely you cannot carry guilt for each and every one.”

Roman frowned, unsure if he should be taking offense. “Why shouldn’t I? Are you saying I don’t care about my people?”

But Logan shook his head. “That is simply not in question here. You can care for your people while maintaining a healthy understanding for things that are in and out of your control.”

“But those decisions were in my control,” Roman said.

“And how are you to predict every repercussion?” Logan asked. “The best strategist in the world couldn’t predict every outcome. While decisions are in your control, repercussions often are not."

"So what? Am I just supposed to throw the hat in? Eh, didn't realize my actions would have consequences so I might as well just ignore it."

"No, Roman." Roman stopped when Logan's voice came out firm, curt. "Of course you try to fix it, but you do not punish yourself either. You let yourself eat. You let yourself sleep. You forgive yourself for a bad or wrong decision, or you recognize that a witch manipulated you into making it . That decision wasn't even your own, Roman! Yes, in the end you made it, but you had a figurative sword to your throat!"

For a moment all Roman could do was stare. He had never seen Logan talk so passionately before. He'd never seen so many emotions on the man. He was kind of in awe.

Then Logan took in a deep breath. He straightened himself, but the tension in his voice did not fade. "The only one here to blame is that witch. She took Virgil. She hurt him enough that when he ran away he wouldn't leave Patton's house for two months out of fear she'd find him and cast layers of wards for years following. She took your brother, and from what you've told me, hurt him beyond imagine. She took that other boy who has been with her this whole time, and I do not want to think of the pain she must have inflicted on him. You are not at fault for any of this. She is."

"I- I-" Roman stuttered, not quite sure what he wanted to say. What he could say.

He still felt terrible. He still felt a crushing guilt inside, ready to tear in with its claws and teeth any time he was ready to think too hard on it. But everything Logan said made sense. There was nothing Roman could say to refute it.

So all he could say was, "...okay."

Logan looked him deep in the eyes, and Roman felt seen like he'd never been seen before. Not by people who had seen him in the streets, everything he was and everything he owned laid before them. Not in front of the millions in their kingdom on his coronation day, feeling inadequate but ready–ready to take on this duty, ready to serve his people.

Logan looked at him now, and Roman knew he could see every thought. He knew Roman still hurt. He knew Roman couldn't quite shake it all off, and Logan knew that Roman believed him too.

It was the witch's fault. Roman believed that. But there was a tiny part of his mind that wouldn't stop insisting it was his fault too.

But Roman also couldn't find flaw in this logic. Logan could see that too.

Logan nodded. "Okay," he agreed. "Bed then?"

Roman blinked, startled by the sudden shift in attitude and priority. He looked back to the book, to the inscription.

"It will still be here tomorrow," Logan reminded him. "And you'll be literate enough to read it too."

Roman threw him a scowl. "I'm literate!"

"Not at this time of night," Logan scoffed, rolling his eyes. He had gone back to that emotionless facade, but now that Roman had seen more emotion from Logan than ever before, he could pick up on more now. Logan was joking, a mirth hidden in his eyes.

Roman cracked a smile. "Fine. I concede."

"Good. The guest bedroom is this way," Logan waved to the hallway that branched off from the living room. Roman blinked.

"I can go back to Patton's," he offered.

Logan just rolled his eyes. "It's late, Roman. Take the bed."

"Okay," he said and got up. They walked together, and he stopped at the door Logan gestured to. He stood at it for a moment, watching as Logan continued on down the hall. As the man reached for the handle for the next door down, Roman called, "Um, thank you."

Logan looked up, then nodded. "Goodnight, my prince."

When Logan closed the door behind him, Roman was left alone in the hall, realizing Logan, who had never called him by his name at the park construction site, had used it their entire conversation.

"Huh," he said before turning to his own room.

He was faced again with the realization that these years of isolation had cost him some potentially great friends.

Roman hoped he could amend that.

-/-

Remus looked around when he awoke in his dream. It felt a lot more familiar than the last one. In this one he felt like himself. But not himself himself. A different self.

This self wasn't from too long ago, but it was still definitely a different Remus. He felt a whole lot more awake. Funny, as he was actually asleep right now.

"Wait wait wait," a familiar voice reached him from around the corner. "You said brother?"

Remus knew him. How come he knew him? Dang, not another memory. It was so close. So so close.

"Okay so-"

He felt his feet walk as if of their own accord. He turned the corner, and there they were. The purple one–what was his name?–and his brother. Remus always knew his brother. Roman.

"It is you," he said, but the words weren't his. They were the other Remus'. He said it, and dreaming Remus didn't know what it meant.

He remembered this vaguely, but it was all so fuzzy.

"Wait, do you know each other?"

" Remus ? What- How-"

Remus knew this one. It wasn't too long ago he'd seen this- lived this- what was it? What was happening?

"It's too late," other Remus mumbled, the words so familiar in his mouth. "It was a trap."

“A trap? What do you mean? A trap for who? Who’s trapping?”

“Remus, what the fuck? How are you here? How did you get away?”

Remus heard the words, he heard the voices, but he couldn't focus on where they were coming from. Who was this? Remus knew this man.

“Get away?”  

“What about Dee?”

“Dee…”  

It wasn't Remus who had spoken, but he perked up at the name. He knew Dee. He remembered Dee.

“It’s too late,” he said instead, ignoring the wonderful name. “Of course it was you.”

Then, the room erupted into chaos.

Remus jolted awake. His head hit the floor and he was left staring at the ceiling.

He didn't recognize this ceiling.

Slowly, he sat up. He looked around, taking in shelves, books, a cart pushed into a corner.

What was he doing in a library?

-/-

When Roman blinked awake, the light leaking through the curtains was strong. He sat bolt upright, blinking away his disorientation and pulling the curtains back. Sure enough, the sun was high in the sky, almost midday already. With a strong intake of breath, Roman leapt out of bed and stumbled his way to the guest room door.

He limped out towards the living room, fighting to keep the emerging guilt at bay. He and Logan had just talked about that last night–could he not keep it together for two minutes? Roman shook his head, stopping in the hallway to recuperate before revealing his rumpled form.

There were low voices coming from the living room, a small laugh and the shuffle of papers. When he finally turned the corner, he caught sight of both Patton and Logan, already scouring over books pulled from Logan’s shelves.

Patton was the first to catch sight of him, and he smiled. “Roman! Good morning!”

“More like afternoon,” Roman said, approaching. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

“We thought you could use the sleep,” Patton shrugged, picking up another volume and flipping through it. “Besides, I went to bed a whole lot earlier than you two. I figured I’d get a headstart.”

Roman turned to Logan, trying to keep the frown off his face. “How long have you been up then?”

Logan straightened, adjusting his glasses. “I work on a very strict circadian rhythm. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep more in any case.”

At this Roman did frown. He wasn’t an idiot; he could tell when someone was keeping things from him. But he could let it go. Whatever time Logan got up–it wasn’t a big deal. Just more time he’d been spending looking for Virgil. A responsibility that should have rested with Roman.

Roman pushed that thought back. That wasn’t right; he had to remember that. He wasn’t responsible for this. Roman wasn’t the guilty party. He wasn’t.

He repeated it like a mantra in his head.

He wasn’t the guilty party. He wasn’t. He wasn’t he wasn’t he wasn’t.

But he was going to make this right.

“Okay,” he nodded, sitting down at the coffee table again, fingers digging into the carpet. “Well, I’m fully rested now. Let’s do this.”

“Want some breakfast, kiddo?” Patton asked, already standing up. “Logan and I already had coffee, but nothing else really. I think I might make eggs for everyone.”

Suddenly, Roman was torn. He looked at the books, could see the one from last night at the corner of the table, the one with the inscription, then he looked back. He bit his lip. “Can I help with breakfast, Pat?”

Patton laughed, and it wasn’t his normal polite chuckle. It was something amused. He found something Roman did funny.

“I can see how you’re eyeing up those books. No sweat; I’ve got this. You might want to change into something that’s not a day-old though,” Patton said. Roman looked down at himself. He’d been borrowing clothes from Patton for the past few days, but he wasn't at Patton’s anymore.

“Follow me, Roman,” Logan stood, placing the volume he’d been perusing to the side. “We can find something that will work from my things.”

The morning continued in this domestic sort of haze. At Patton’s house it had been cozy–warm and welcoming–yet there was something so different in Logan’s. Before Roman had always been busy, on his feet, trying to do what needed to be done always.

And that was how it had been at the palace too, hadn’t it? And before–in his old village, on the move to find Remus. Roman had never slowed down. He was always on the go, always looking for ways to do better.

Roman had… never had something like this.

Slow. Comfortable.

The house was warm. The living room was well-lived in–the shelves riddled in books, candles, pictures; the coffee table had a coffee ring seared into its wooden surface; there was a blanket thrown over the back of the couch.

When Patton–lovely, lovely Patton–brought him coffee, it was in a mug labeled “#1 Architect.” The drink tasted slightly bitter–nothing like the palace’s coffee–but somehow, it was the best he’d ever had. So much so that Roman took a moment to simply revel in it, sit back on the couch and forget about the books, about everything else, and close his eyes to the taste.

He could hear singing in the kitchen. Patton had a lovely voice, and it was lower than he would have thought. There was another that joined it, however. He could barely hear it–wouldn’t have if he hadn’t taken this moment, just listened–but it was Logan’s. Through Patton’s slightly louder notes and the clings of utensils and bowls, Logan sang as well.

And throughout the day, that warmth never left. They flipped through books, but the tension from yesterday and all the days past had left. Patton said it was like a study group, but Roman didn’t really know anything about those. He’d started school when he’d arrived at the palace, and his tutoring was always one-on-one.

What he learned though, was that ‘study group’ was sitting around together, talking through different books, asking questions, joking to keep the air light and motivation up. It was passing around food, telling each other to take a break, leaning over to laugh at a funny picture or read over each others’ shoulders.

It wasn’t like that every day. Some days were somber, confronted with the low likelihood of finding what they needed, of finding anything. Some days Patton and Logan had to go to work, leaving Roman alone to his thoughts and pages. Some days Roman couldn’t move past his guilt, couldn’t think of anything but reading the night away because surely he had to be close. It had to be the next page, the next book.

They had to be close to the truth.

But who knew if the truth would help Virgil at all?

This was barely a lead, barely anything. It was a stray note Virgil had left on his desk that had loads of other incomprehensible items and a vague title, alluding something to his brother. They could find the book and not even know it was it. They could have past it already, dismissing it as nothing relevant. Or Virgil could have found a book he thought Dee might like, and it truly wasn’t anything at all to their search.

They could be going in circles. And they’d been searching for weeks.

Roman had scoured the pages of the book Virgil had given Logan to no avail. At night when they had all decided to retire until morning, he would bring the book to bed with him and read the story. He would try to see Virgil in it, try to pick out why Virgil had taken a liking to it in particular. Maybe it was sentimentality for him too, just like Logan.

He couldn’t tell. But Roman had to know.

One particular day, Roman picked up a book he had been dreading. It was a simple history text, dating back to the kingdom’s creation two centuries ago. It looked much like the ones the castle kept on hand–like the ones Roman had been forced to absorb in a week in his rapid tutoring. Reading two centuries worth of history in dense text had possibly been the worst part of his preparations to become prince–especially as he had still been learning to read at the time.

The thought made him dizzy. He frowned, looking up from the volume and realized his head was rushing, his vision spotting in places. He held to the couch and blinked. For a moment, he felt really sick–head light and stomach heavy and halfway between the floor and the toilet as his next destination.

Then it was gone.

Roman blinked again. No spots.

He frowned down at the book. “Maybe I have been overworking…” he mumbled.

He shook himself and sighed. No use resting now.

With a sigh Roman pulled it open, looking first to the table of contents. Perhaps he could start somewhere entertaining.

Two and a half hours later and Roman was ready to stab himself in each eye with a rusty fork. Logan and Patton walked in from work, looking weary, and he took the wonderful opportunity to take a break.

“You’re home!” he cheered. “Welcome back! And how was work?”

“Shelby is still trying to schedule a meeting with you through the castle,” Logan said, hanging up his bag.

Roman slowed as they approached him, sagging a bit where he sat. “Oh.”

“You really should check in with the palace soon, Ro,” Patton said casually. They’d had this conversation enough times where it wasn’t a big deal. Still, every time it made Roman feel like he was swallowing rocks.

“I will,” he promised, not for the first time. After we get Virgil back , his mind insisted, but he thought again of his brother, his people.

You’re letting down everyone.

“What are you reading?” Logan asked, walking closer to take a peek. Roman looked back at the book, feeling a tiny bit relieved to change the subject.

“This boring history book,” Roman lamented, sagging back into the sofa. “Do we even know Virgil borrowed this one? I can’t imagine anyone actually choosing to read it.”

Logan looked over the volume then nodded his head. “He definitely read that one. Actually, that was a more recent read. He was fascinated by its candor on the history of magic within the kingdom.”

“Magic?” Roman asked, brow furrowing. He hadn’t come across anything about magic.

“Yes. Where are you? Oh, you seem to have a couple more decades until it gets into that. You may want to skip ahead–this war is rather trifling,” Logan said, pointing to the page. Roman agreed. The war was really kind of stupid.

Roman leaned forward again, grabbing the book. He flipped forward, past the war–a three month endeavor–into reconstruction of the eastern lands and amendment of trade policies. He almost sighed again. Out of the fire and into another fire.

“Here.” Logan took the book and flipped forward himself, skipping a rather large chunk in the middle. Roman looked on, baffled and altogether so so grateful for this man. When Logan got where he wanted, he handed it back.

“This is where you will want to start. Magic wasn’t thought of as out of the ordinary until about fifty years ago. It became ostracized as a result of a dispute with Ilmita, whose population has a significantly higher proportion of sorcerers. Sorcerer eventually became synonymous with Ilmitian. Our people became more and more prejudiced against Ilmitians during the dispute, and being a sorcerer became rather taboo in our kingdom.”

“Taboo?” Roman asked, now intrigued. This was a part of their history he’d never learned about. He remembered the dispute with Ilmita, but none of that lesson had covered it relating to magic. “Magic is outlawed. I wouldn’t say that’s just taboo.”

Logan sat down next to him, flipping again through the pages of the book. “At first it was just taboo. Sorcerers were treated horribly in the kingdom. They couldn’t get jobs or housing. They were physically driven out of certain towns. Many chose to hide who they were even when it was legal.” When he came to rest on one page, he jabbed a finger at it as if to illustrate a point. Roman couldn’t make out what was so important about the page though. It was just another wall of text.

“Tensions heightened throughout the years, but it was here,” Logan pointed at the book again, a year, “Nineteen years ago when they banned all magic from the kingdom. After what happened to the prince, the unease in the kingdom finally came to a breaking point. The king and queen instated the new law: magic was illegal by penalty of death. Many fled to Ilmita. Many hid their powers. Many were sent to prison and executed.”

Roman sat still, eyes wide on the book before them. How had he never known any of this before? How could they have kept this from him? That was so awful. Those were their citizens–uprooted from their homes, forced to live as someone they weren’t, without a vital part of themselves. So many of his citizens, put to death for this.

“What happened to the prince?” Roman finally asked.

Everyone knew about the prince. He had only been a baby when he’d died. It was a tragedy that no one spoke of in the palace.

But Roman didn’t know anything about it. That baby was technically his adopted brother, and Roman knew nothing of him.

Logan flipped another page, and on this one they were faced with a portrait. It was the same one from the office Remus had taken him to that one time. Roman had barely gotten a good look at it.

“It is said that a sorcerer broke into the castle one night, went straight to the prince’s room,” Logan said. Something lodged in Roman’s throat suddenly. As curious as he was, he suddenly wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear. But then Logan said something Roman hadn’t been expecting at all. “The sorcerer fled with the prince, stole him. All the queen knew about the kidnapper is that they had magic.”

“Wait,” Roman stopped, looking away from the portrait to Logan. “What? You’re saying the baby was still alive?”

Logan furrowed his brow. “Yes, of course. The young prince was kidnapped.”

“I thought he’d died,” Roman blurted out. “You’re telling me he could be alive out there somewhere?”

“Of course,” Logan said. “Did they not tell you this? I assumed as the new prince…”

“No,” Roman said, shaking his head. He looked down at the picture. “They didn’t tell me any of this.”

As Logan’s finger moved away from the book, Roman caught sight of a caption below the portrait. He pulled the book closer to him, moving to read it.

“King Xavier, Queen Yolanda, and Prince Janus,” he read off. Roman knew those names. He said them practically daily–he had never called the king or queen “mother and father” or “mom and dad” or anything close to casual. They were the king and queen, and perhaps they were his parents, perhaps they had taken him in, treated him well, smiled warmly on him and spent holidays with him, but Roman had never taken to calling them anything else.

What stood out was the prince’s name, so rarely seen, even rarer spoken within the palace walls. The little baby, stolen in the night. His birthmark would make him obvious to anyone who saw him, even grown up.

Roman shook the thought from his head. His long lost… “brother” could wait.

“He was interested in the history of magic in this book,” Roman said. “Could this have to do with what Virgil was looking for?”

“I don’t know, Roman,” Logan said, sighing, His shoulders slumped minutely, but Roman could spot a change in his demeanor far better throughout the weeks they’d been working on this. “It could be. The facts of the matter are we don’t have enough information to go off of.”

Roman looked back to the portrait, dejected. He supposed Logan was right.

He couldn’t help but feel like they were close to something here though. Like they were barely missing it.

Prince Janus’ eyes were green, barely peeking up above the blanket he was swaddled in. He must have been old enough for his eye color to come in. How old was he when he’d been taken? What had the sorcerer done to him? What did they want with him?

Barely missing something…

Just then, however, Roman was stirred from his thoughts by the sound of a knock. Both he and Logan looked up. Patton emerged from the kitchen to stare as well, them all frozen in place.

Roman was careful to keep his voice low as he asked, “Are you expecting anyone?”

In his periphery he saw Logan shake his head. He heard him swallow thickly before he responded, voice unsettled.

“No.”

-/-

When Remus awoke in yet another dream, he wasn’t in a foriegn body, nor was he in a different self. This time Remus felt unbound, invisible to the mortal eye, broken from his reality.

Remus was used to feeling apart from reality. He never quite got what was going on around him, and there was always something he was trying to remember, always something just out of reach. He never felt like he belonged. Not in the streets he’d grown up in. Not in the caves where they’d said he’d had a home. Not in this new place where the window was his only friend and his brother covered his beautiful green colors when they said hello.

In this dream Remus was no one else, but he also wasn’t himself. He was above it all. An all-seeing eye. He stretched out an arm and it passed through the table to his right. He swung his leg and it didn’t stir the air.

He couldn’t do anything – even now that he had control of his body in one of these dreams. It seemed a bit unfair.

But he’d always just been an observer here.

“You can put it over there,” a voice resounded throughout the room. At first, there was no one there. Remus scanned the small space once, twice, but on his third go something suddenly shifted. It was like another reality had flipped into this one – like the pages of a book. A figure now stood in the middle of the room, bent over one of the tables and straightening a stack of papers.

Remus knew him. He squinted, hard, trying to piece him into the right memory. The man turned to place the stack on one of the many shelves that surrounded the room, all piled high in papers and vouchers and binders. Along the opposite wall were tables with pens and paper and random assortments of books. There was an empty cart in the corner. It was cramped, but organized – like some sort of office space.

“Here?” another voice asked, hidden away towards the back of the room. The original man looked back, a small smile gracing his features as he did so.

The man nodded. “Yeah, that’s good, Ro.” He went back to his organization, and after a moment, the man who was hidden emerged. Remus perked up when he saw him, realizing he’d known that voice – realizing where he knew this other man too. He was there last time with him and Roman, in that library.

He still couldn’t put a name to him, but Remus knew him.

Roman walked to stand at the other side of the table, taking the other man in with a lopsided smile. He pulled a chair over and sat down, placing his head in his hands and continued looking, stars in his eyes. “Hey,” he said, voice dripping with fondness.

The other man looked, a blush immediately coloring his face when he saw Roman. His eyes jolted back down to the papers, and he coughed behind a hand. “Hey,” he replied, and Remus could hear it in his voice that he was trying to sound casual.

Roman blinked, probably picking up on the man’s tone too. He looked down, a deep red covering his face as well, and pulled over a pen to fidget with. Slowly, suddenly replicating the other’s voice, he tried for casual too. “How are you?”

The man bit his lip and quicked a glance back to Roman. As his eyes fell again on the papers, he pushed them aside and picked up a pile of vouchers, thumbing through and every now and again, flipping one in the stack. “Alright,” he said, lifting one shoulder. “You?”

“Doing good, doing good,” Roman said conversationally, nodding.

The man lifted his head, for a second looking as though he wanted to say something. His eyes raked over Roman, brow furrowing minutely, but in the next second it was gone. He shook his head and went back to work. “That’s good.”

Roman looked up, and, feeling his gaze, the other man did too. For a moment they just looked at one another, eyes saying more than Remus could follow. They both smiled, barely the tilt of lips, but warm, something more.

Remus felt like he was barging in on something that wasn’t for him.

And with that thought, the scene turned to black. As it faded away, Remus felt the familiar jolt that signaled he had woken up somewhere new.

With a sigh he sat up to face the strange office room. He clenched his fist and thought of his room.

When he felt the plush feel of a comforter beneath him, Remus fell back against the bed, not even giving the teleportation a second thought before he drifted back to sleep.

-/-

Roman’s thoughts were on the sword in the guest bedroom. Could he get there in time? Should he leave these two in the main room by themselves?

“I can’t tell who it is,” Patton whispered, barely moving aside the curtain at the window. Roman stood suddenly.

“Pat, get back,” he hissed. Patton dropped the curtain and backed away.

“Everyone, calm down,” Logan said, voice level, but still low. “It’s probably nothing. I will answer the door, but Roman,” Logan turned to him, “You have to stay out of sight. No one knows you’re here.”

“It could be dangerous,” Roman said, grabbing Logan’s arm when he moved away. “Who the heck would be visiting at this time of night?”

“It’s not that late,” Logan said. “It’s only ten. I’m sure whoever it is has a good reason for showing up a bit later.” He pulled his arm from Roman’s grip and moved again around the couch. Roman moved to try to stop him, but Logan was light on his feet, at the door in no time.

“Lo-” Roman hissed, trying in vain to stop him, but Logan was already reaching for the knob. “Fuck,” he said under his breath, finally doing as Logan asked and ducking behind the couch.

Please be a civilian. Please be a civilian. Please-

A noise escaped Patton. Roman’s feet felt filled with springs, ready to jump at a hair’s breadth. He could see Patton around the corner of the couch, but he didn’t look alarmed.

Just… confused.

“Roman, you can come out,” Logan said. Now Roman was confused too.

Slowly, he stood up, his eyes immediately on the door. Logan stepped back.

And there was no one there.

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 004

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hello all! Pushing out a baby chapter early so I can focus on my other fic! Thank you so much for the support on this fic. Billy goes to dinner and Tries It. That's the chapter. :D  Tag list open!!!

Chapter 4: No Day But Today

   “Claudia, do you have the keys?” Mona crossed the salon floor.

   “I do, we’re fine here, go on. Dusty is spending the night at the Wheeler’s place. Having some castle and dragons party.” She'd gushed.

   “Feel free to close up early if we’re dead the last hour. Thanks, sugar.” Mona patted her back as she followed Evie out the door.

   “Can I drive?”

   “I was hoping you’d ask.” Mona smiled.

   Evie was saving for a car. And college. And her future. 

   And it was a lot.

   Truthfully, she didn’t care for school. It was in the way. Wished her lyrics could carry her straight to the red carpet before all those flashing paparazzi.

   Wanting to unwind, Evie hid in her room when she got home. Shut the curtains and prodded at herself before the vanity. Sorted dangly earrings in a mesh metal display. Huffing to lean over when Bourbon swept into her legs. His little body shivered and she plucked him up.

   “Okay, BB, you’re my best guy. You can’t let me down.” She scratched under his chin, gave him a little boop on the nose. “You take one look at that walking Def Leppard poster and you hiss and run. Got it?”

   A purr.

   “Good boy. You’re my only hope here. We can’t lose. Not to Billy Hargrove.” Arms let him down. She'd feel this sentiment often about Billy. A sigh. Evie applied a fresh lip color and paused. “Ugh.” She pushed up and didn’t change. Did her school work to get it out of the way and wandered out, turning the TV on to some game show. The savory smell of dinner wafted. “Need help here, Mom?” One tug and the ceiling fan spun, cycling cooler air.

   “No, I have it. You can set the table for me.” Mona drained some noodles.

   “Got it.” Plates and cutlery clicked around. Evie slid everything into place, perked up when the doorbell rang. Mona turned and smiled as her daughter adjusted fabric and fixed curls into place all the way to the door.

   Evie half expected Billy to not even show. But, there he was. Sly smile and all. Billow of date night cologne. A vision in moonlight.

   “Hey.” Evie said slowly. The surprise evident.

   “Hey." He mirrored it.

   "You're here." An exhale out. He blinked, found himself again.

   "I was gonna steal flowers from the old lady’s garden across the way, but there’s a huge opossum in her trash guarding it.” He tilted his head, earring catching the porch light and she cracked a grin.

   "Big Ben? Yeah, he's the neighborhood menace. Chief Hopper's nemesis because they get so many calls about it. You'd be a hero if you took him on." Evie persuaded lighter. His face fell.

   "I'm not trying to die in Hawkins, Indiana. That thing was bigger than anyone on our football team."

   “Color me impressed. King Billy didn’t want to do battle for the first time?” She actually teased him. Her nose crinkled when she smiled. Cute. “Shock and awe.”

   Billy felt this tug pulse up his ribcage. Pulled a genuine chuckle from his lips. He had to look away to give it. Glowy in starlight.

   “Sometimes I surprise people. I know my weight class and the pests here look like they were grown and mutated in some lab.” He shrugged into the door frame with one fist lifted, clicking his lighter shut. Hooded eyes all over. Evie went still as he leaned forward to her face with his tone lowering. “Am I allowed inside? Pretty please?”

   “With cherries on top?" Bright, wet lips parted. His lashes fluttered, a baritone sinking. Bringing her with him.

   "With anything your heart desires on top." Smooth.

   "Huh. I guess. For now.” Evie stepped out of the way. “We go to school with plenty of those lab grown pests by the way.”

   “No kidding.” Billy shrugged his jacket off and she awkwardly reached to take it. Hung it up behind her.

   Evie turned to see him staring again and swallowed a hard lump down. Thought maybe he saw all the begonias blooming behind her eyes and up her throat.

   “Billy.” Mona came out of the kitchen, arms out. “So glad you’re here.”

   “You saved me from a sad date with a TV dinner.” Billy winked, charming Ms. Fenny to bits. She giggled and shook her hair out.

   “Dinner’s got about ten minutes. Why don’t you show him around, baby?” Mona hurried back off, leaving them alone again.

   “Tour? Great idea." He peered behind Evie. A mission at hand. "Where’s the cat?”

   “Hiding from you, clearly.” Evie beamed, gesturing. “Welcome to the living room. Mom's showroom is a better word.”

   “Your mom like tchotchkes or what?” He came to the full mantle. Scanning.

   “How’d you guess?” Evie reluctantly trailed to his side.

   It was strange to let this boy wander around and see little bits of her life. Guess things about her as he went along, trailing deft fingers about the fireplace. She wondered what was blooming within the pit of his stomach, if anything.

   Mona Fenny's house overwhelmed.

   Photographs, plants, and crafts. Little porcelain figurines. Too many handmade candles. Crochet projects. A full dollhouse on a table in the corner.

   “My grandma passed a lot of craft skills down. She owned this amazingly strange trinket and voodoo shop in New Orleans that my aunts run now after Nana died."

   "Your mom didn't stay for a piece of that?" Billy let his eyes trail over every little thing.

   "Ah, I don't know. She was the baby and married pretty young. Seemed like she wanted something new," Evie peered behind her and whispered. "Never really got along with Nana like her older sisters did."

   Billy hummed a little. Decided not to pry with Mona in the next room. Evie brought him to the corner and flicked a lamp on.

   "Mom’s dollhouse is her pride and joy. Lights up and everything.”

   “Tell me why your mother has a framed photograph of Dolly Parton next to a picture of you two on the fireplace. And the same photo shrunk down in the dollhouse?”

   “Science may tell us the truth one day when the world is ready. And I fear for that day.” She replied in all seriousness and Billy snorted. Laughing.

   A truly enchanting sound Evie decided she liked.

   “And I have to say,” he plucked a photo off a bookshelf with a broad grin, “this one is my favorite.”

   One of Evie on Halloween. Had to be about six. Dressed in the campiest pink daisy costume with a huge toothy smile.

   “Gah,” she cringed and swiped it from his hand, “this house is a museum of embarrassment.”

   “You’re into the museum shit, guess this is like our first-” Billy stopped himself from producing the damning word when Evie turned. Blushing. Oof. He scratched the back of his neck. “So, uh, you got a bedroom in here or do you sleep in the dollhouse?”

   “You won’t find the cat that easily.” She caught him peering around again and led him past the kitchen. “C’mon, not much to the rest of the house. Garage. Spare room.” That used to be her dad’s office space. “Mom’s room. Attic up there and on this end. My cat's room that he lets me stay in too.”

   The door was open so Billy prodded it to peek inside. Evie exhaled and flicked the light on.

   It didn’t feel like a teenage girl’s bedroom. Not covered in decorations and pictures like the rest of the house. No posters cut from magazines covered in pink lipstick kisses.

   A vanity full of disorganized makeup. Desk. Overfilled bookcase of novels and tapes. Crafts and trinkets she collected in labeled tin boxes. Dresser covered in jewelry. Music player. Bed. Closet. Couple of pictures taped by the vanity and headboard. Mostly Evie and Heather laughing and bright. Her beloved acoustic guitar propped in the corner. 

   It felt like it was decorated by one trying to take up as little space as possible. Everything was compacted. Billy eyed the wall by her bed. Realized most of the papers were notes with random lyrics and words patched together.

   “Yeah, I tend to jot every little thought down even when I’m half asleep and hope it makes a song eventually.” She peered aside. It felt too intimate, letting Billy shift about the space.

   "Hey, everybody has a method." Two fingers traced over a note taped up to straighten it. She caught the ring gleaming on his middle finger. “My-”

   “Ah, don’t read them aloud, I may combust.” 

   “Oh?” Billy slunk toward her, licked his lips. A hungry way about it. Mouth watering fangs full of sweet venom. Wonder how they'd feel sinking into her throat. “Because I make you nervous, Angel?”

   “No, it’s just...just…weird.” Evie pressed up into her desk. Billy closed the distance. Got within inches of her. “It’s weird.”

   Repetition didn’t ease the sear of those ocean eyes drowning her too sweetly. She felt her chest fill and flutter all the way down. Flowers unfurled to be plucked and caressed. Billy pushed into the space until she was seated there on the desk. Scrambling further. Unable to climb the wall.

   “You do seem nervous though, Evie.” His tone hushed. Fingers brushed her thighs and palms came to rest there. The bunched fabric of her dress barely separating them. She inhaled his cologne. Smelled peppermint from his breath. Chest heaving.

   Billy knew this wasn’t part of the quest. If that’s what this was, maybe that was a nicer way to put it. Maybe rationalizing it a thousand times would help him get some sleep at night. Just show her a good night, cash in, and go home.

   It still sounded shitty. Wasn't doing Evie any favors. This girl painted too many iridescent colors. They could bleed and Billy wouldn't step away if it pooled too close.

   He liked to watch the blush spread across her freckled cheeks. Rose petals falling into a cool pond. Liked the way her nose scrunched when she smiled and when she was cross with him. 

   Billy didn't want her because she was a conquest. A challenge. Sure, she challenged him, that was part of it. And she also made him smile like he was looking at the rocking ocean waves again. Sand and wind kissing his warm skin. There was a mystery in those molten eyes he wanted to taste for himself. Maybe it was possible to just enjoy a person without strings.

   To let colors bleed and swirl. To just watch it happen without fear or judgement. To not step away from it either. Just sink right in and create those echoing ripples.

   It was too sweet and peculiar, how soft Evangeline Fenny was against the hard edges of his steel frame. So sharp, it warded everyone off.

   But, not Evie, she fit perfectly against him. Fire with fire. It gave them so much in this world that had forgotten them both. Freckles to count. Eyelashes to wish upon. Flesh curves and razor angles to explore.

   Hell, he even enjoyed how shaken she got as he neared and how still she went when his fingers trailed up her legs. 

   Evie watched his muscled chest rise, the saint pendant caught the light. Looked up at his eyes and then his mouth because it couldn’t be helped. Billy Hargrove filled Evie's space and lungs with sugary smoke. He was too many colors in one soul. So, he pushed further because those painted lips were big and full and right fucking there.

   One curious taste, that couldn't hurt.

   Brought his hand up toward her chin and leaned forth when…

   “Dinner!” 

   Evie practically shoved Billy back. Scrambled up so the desk gave a rut. Bright red as he stumbled.

   “Sorry.” She shuddered, passing him. Smelling of amber perfume. “Coming, mom.” Billy stared at the back of her hair. Blinked a couple times to pull himself together. To rationalize some.

   Curiosity. A deadly thing and so sweet too.

   It felt like he was dreaming and woke up sitting at the dinner table. Evie clicked a Coke in front of him, flashed a knowing expression that made him smirk before she sat down.

   “Now, I left a bowl in the kitchen to cool. We always bring extra to Miss Abigail, she’s three doors down.” Mona was setting plates about.

   “It looks amazing, Ms. Fenny.” Billy even shifted a dish to help make room for another.

   “Please, Billy, just Mona. Ms. Fenny was my mother and she was a harder woman.” She set a glass of water down and smoothed her dress out, sitting. Billy went for his fork and his hand was snatched. Evie shot him a look as Mona reached out. “I always say grace. Don’t feel pressured to join, sweetheart.” 

   Billy peered at Evie’s warm hand in his and accepted her mother’s. Bowed his head a little so Mona could say her prayer. 

   “Bless us, oh Lord. For this and all we are about to receive, make us truly grateful. And thank you for bringing Billy to our humble table, may he truly feel welcomed in our home. Please guide and protect him. Through Christ, we pray. Amen.”

   “Amen.” Evie offered softer. Lips lifting when Billy peered at their hands again leaving each other. Clearly not expecting such words from a neighbor.

   “You’ll forgive me, Billy, some people say they leave their hearts open. I just let mine fill the room.” Mona settled a napkin in her lap. “May I ask, if your family is religious at all?”

   “Dad’s Lutheran.” Which meant Susan was by default now whatever she believed before. “We don’t go to church or anything.”

   As if Neil Hargrove could drag his son under a steeple without one of them spontaneously combusting.

   “Well, that’s perfectly fine.” Mona cut each of her meatballs into smaller pieces which Evie mirrored. “Evie doesn’t attend with me when I go. Although, the choir sure misses her voice.”

   “Mom...” A teenage whine, near silent as she prodded at noodles.

   “She get all the solos?” Billy encouraged the pink spreading Evie’s cheeks.

   “Oh, every single one. She’s even been asked to come sing the national anthem at minor league baseball games.” Mona prattled and Evie’s head fell back.

   “Mom!” Another drawn out groan. Evie sunk down lower.

   “Oh, Evangeline, let your mother brag about you.” Mona ignored her.

   "Yeah, Evangeline." He chimed in, earning a harder glare.

   “Now, Billy, you’ve been in Hawkins just over two months?” Mona continued. Blue eyes lifted from the plate before he gave a nod. “How are you liking it? I’m sure it’s such a huge change from California. You must miss the beach.”

   “Getting used to the cold.” Billy speared a meatball and didn’t sound convincing.

   “I’ll bet you’ve never seen snow before, your poor sinuses aren’t going to know what to do. Anyone in your family takes ill, just give us a ring.” Such a mom. “It took me a few years to get used to the cold here too. We moved when Evie was just a baby straight up from N’aw Lins.” 

   Billy bit his tongue.

   “What type of music do you write?” Billy asked and there was a beat when Evie realized he was looking at her. Addressing her pointedly. Maybe to make conversation and suck up to her talkative mother. Evie’s back grew taut, lips opening.

   “Evie’s gonna be a folk singer.” Mona had cut in. “Voice of an angel, she’ll make it big. She’s been in competitions, just one look from any talent scout and she’s sold.” Evie sank down again to go back to her food. Billy watched her roll a meatball around her plate like it was the most interesting thing in the room. 

   Mona Fenny struck Billy as a woman who always meant well. Frilly like a lace doily. So well, she steamrolled over you because she knew best. Evie barely got two syllables out before her mother was flicking her hair and boasting. A doll that constantly had the string in its voice box yanked.

   Billy learned a great deal about her.

   That Mona had been arrested twice in her life for marching and protesting. Civil and women’s rights. She joked that she hadn't been arrested for gay rights yet, but looked forward to the inevitable. She was a pageant queen too. Stopped when she found out she was pregnant and couldn’t compete after that. No bitterness there of course. She had a daughter to mold and complete the legacy now.

   Mona insisted on taking the plates away. Grabbing her own, Billy’s, and a side dish. 

   Evie was still rolling that meatball around until Billy plucked up a fork, stabbed it, and swallowed in one bite. She perked with flushed cheeks. Glared again.

   Billy wanted attention.

   “Your mom is friendly.” Statement of the fucking millennium.

   “Just wait til she busts out her old pageant scrapbooks. You'll never see home again.” Evie quickly flashed a smile and picked up her own plate to follow her mother off. Billy stood too, peered around. That cat had to be close. “Give it up.” Arms crossed when she leaned into the doorway working a melting ice cube around her mouth. Swallowed it whole instead of crunching. Water ran in the kitchen behind her.

   “We agreed on an hour of television.” Billy matched her stance, saw her hip cock.

   “Half hour.”

   “Hour.” Billy went in to sit on the couch like he owned it. Legs spread. “Come on in, the water’s fine, Evangeline.” Evie plucked up the remote, sat as far away from him as she could. Turned the TV on to something campy just to make him suffer.

   “Fucking Love Boat. Really? Susan watches this crap.”

   “You said the full hour.” Evie flashed a smug grin. “I think The Golden Girls is on too.”

   “Love Boat is fine.” Billy lifted his hand. Swiped the remote from her to set it on the other side of him. They both sunk in there. Eyes on the screen. Mona left them alone to bring the plate to their neighbor, stayed for conversation.

   Billy fidgeted. Stretching to scoot closer so he could nudge his knee into Evie's. Her face remained at total peace. She pushed back at his leg which drew slow smiles upon them both.

   “What kind of music do you really like, or does your mother always do all the talking?”

   “Doesn’t matter.” Evie felt him peer back over and held herself. A beat.

   “Yeah, your dreams. They don't matter." Came sarcasm. "A girl who wants her name in lights. Don't spend too much time feeling for the switch in darkness, Angel."

   "Why do you want to know?"

   "Just asking. You really want to sit in silence to this cheesefest? Young actresses paired with old ass grandpas playing love sick.” Billy put his arm up over the couch. Missed Evie twitch. Got his hand smacked for tugging her curl like a giddy little boy. 

   “I don’t know,” Evie faced him with a shrug, “somewhere in the rock and pop area. Maybe with a touch of soul. Not the hair metal I’m sure you’re into."

   How beautiful she looked when she hoped.

   "And my name in lights won't ever be enough, I need people to chant it too.”

   Lips curled at Evie.

   “Better than folk music.” Billy decided. Pride welled because she smiled too. Genuinely. Evie fiddled with her necklace. Delicate little music note caught the technicolor glow. Brown eyes turned to see him, she tried to bite the smile down. Failed.

   “So, what’s the deal with this party thing? A dance?”

   “One of many in the city. Bunch of high schools will probably run drunk through the streets with everyone else. No one will get carded because no one cares on New Years. Dancing and whatever. Watch the ball drop, it’s just the feral thing to do that night.”

   “And you could score with any girl, but you’re asking me. It won’t be like a date or anything.” Evie dropped the charm in her fingers to see Billy’s eyes linger.

   “You mentioned that. I know how to get out and have a good time without fucking. I have all sorts of tricks.” He noted the word didn’t make her wince. “Not looking to break your seal.”

   “You’re gross.” Again, no argument on the details of it.

   “You’re too tightly wound.” He paused, whispering. “Maybe not, but you hide it.”

   "Nothing to hide, I'm an open book."

   "A never ending record," Billy pushed into her so their legs pressed flush, "not nervous around me though."

   "Nope." Her lips popped, fingers curling into the hem of her dress when his arm snaked behind the couch. "Not nervous."

   "Not running either." That realization seemed to hit them both.

   "Why would I? I can handle you just fine." She hissed at that because it came out sexual. Billy licked his lips and snickered, shifting to face her head on.

   "Oh, I like the sound of that." He'd murmured, inches from her face. Evie found herself wondering how he managed to weasel his way in this close. Wondered why she was drinking him back in. "Picture this. You and this perfume enjoying a couple free drinks and some fireworks in the city. No strings attached. Not a date. Just those exploding lights and that chilly wind cooling your cheeks down, because you'll be blushing and you won't know it."

   "Uh huh. I guess I can see it." Evie sized him up and crossed her legs to lean back into him. "You and the roar of a Camaro commanding the city to its knees. Glam and hairspray working their magic."

   "I love an audience, Angel." Billy shook his head and froze because her palm came to his knee. Bold move. "But, I don't mind the front seat to see you blush too."

   "What about you?" She whispered with a hum. "What makes King Billy blush? Does all the noise you like to make hide it?" A spark flitted up her eyes. Made his chest heave. "Is that your secret?"

   "Come to the party, I'll tell you all my secrets." Fingers grazed up her arm when soft digits gave a rhythmic tap against his thigh. Billy went for it. "Do this dance with me."

   "You don't play as hard to get as you let on."

   "Not when I want something bad. Better to just play harder." Lips parted to hit that word. Her brows lifted at such an admittance. "You're sizzling up a fuse, aren't you, Evie?" She shook her head with a lazy smile. Eyes finding his again after. Near sultry.

   "You have to light a fuse first, Billy, for it to sizzle." Her hand crept along denim. Felt him go rigid and part his thighs just a little bit wider before she sat back. "And the fire's out anyway. I'll make good on the deal. If you win."

   "I hope you have a dress picked." Billy scoffed, breathless and still intent on her while she looked ahead at the screen.

   “Time is ticking. As if you taking me out will do me any good." Evie rolled her eyes and reclined back into his side. Quite comfortably like she wasn't thinking about it. "Give me cool points so Tommy and Carol leave me alone.”

   “They’re assholes to everyone. It’s not you.” Billy replied dismissively. Curled his finger into her locks behind the sofa.

   “You don’t notice who they target because you’re too busy chasing skirts and fighting others yourself. Also haven't seen the writing about me on the bathroom walls. School hierarchy rules. Open those pretty ocean eyes and see the world for what it is. You're untouched because of your front. Everyone wants to be Billy Hargrove or screw him.”

   Evie looked at him there, blinking.

   "What side of the line are you on?" He bit his lip. "I can guess."

   She plucked his hand from her shoulder and placed it back into his lap. Patted it for good measure.

   “So, you really think my eyes are pretty?” Billy laughed when a square pillow nailed him in the face. "You said it before too! When we were drunk and you still think it now that we're sober. Telling."

   Tension shattered. Evie glittered right back at him, teeth flashing. Still chuckling, he tilted his head back to create the magical sound. Quieted.

   “Fine. I’ll pay attention if it helps you sleep at night.”

   Evie blew air out her lips, let a curl fly up and bounce down. They watched the screen again. Shared a space. Maybe it shouldn't have felt so intimate. 

   “Episode’s almost over. Thanks for playing.” She about sang. Triumphant.

   “I guess you have me, Fenny.” Billy pushed up. “Mind if I take a leak?” He was already pacing off so she said nothing.

   Just watched couples go hand in hand into the sunset.

   There was a flush, the sink running, and then Billy’s huge smile crept back down the hallway. The boy was gone all of three minutes.

   Bourbon in his arms. Purring. Perfectly happy. Evie’s jaw dropped open.

   “Guess who crawled out of the shower to eyeball my junk? Not that I blame him.” Billy quipped, scratching the cat’s chin. Bourbon rubbed back into the touch. Rasped his scratchy meow for more.

   “Traitor...” Evie muttered, coming to her feet. “Damn it.”

   “Oh, yeah. You’re mine now, Evie. Seven o’clock. Wear something short if you like.” Billy’s lips were pressed up. Such an ass.

   "I call foul." Her finger lifted.

   "And I'll be calling on you. New Years Eve. Just an annoying dance. It'll be fun and free." His chin gestured at her. "Just say yes, Evie. Get out of this small town and see some lights for once. You want your name in them so bad, you gotta look at the damn things first. No day but today. Right?"

   "Right," a lengthy sigh, "but, the fire's still out. Bourbon, why? First, mom and now you. He's just hypnotizing you both.” Evie took the cat from Billy, watched his face scrunch.

   “Your cat is really named Bourbon?” He said flatter.

   “I found him when we visited family in New Orleans. Bourbon street.” She let the feline nuzzle into her chest.

   “God, Angel, I hope your lyrics are more creative than that.” Billy lightened, chest shaking as he peered away shaking his pretty head. “Well?”

   She pouted and if that cat wasn't between them, Billy didn't know what he would have done. Another time or place. Another pretty dress. Another shared beat of bleeding together.

   That itched him the rest of the night.

   “I’ll go. Seven. I’ll dress nice. It’s not a date, so don’t try anything and get me home in one piece. I reserve the right to leave you if you act like too much of an ass.” Evie grumbled some about it, defeated.

   But, she wondered about the lights and what it might be like to share them. Suppressed all urges that longed to hope.

   “That much I can do, I might even keep my ass in check. Don’t flake, we have a deal. I’ll be your Mr. Darcy or whatever.” Billy made for the door, plucking up his jacket as she opened it.

   “That’s an impossible standard, but keep dreaming.” Evie sighed out. Watched him turn to beam. Offered a pet to Bourbon. “Least you got his name right.”

   “Quick learner, I get points. New Years Eve. Don’t make me chase you, Evie, because I will.” Billy stepped off the porch lighting a cigarette, idly waved behind him.

   Game. Set. Match.

   “I’m not gonna be nice about it.” She called.

   “So, you’ll be your normal, cheery self with me. Great. Won't ask for anything else, we have a good thing going.” He turned to wink, curling a final smile. Evie stilled, petting her cat before sighing into the cold air. “See you then, Fenny.”

   “Whatever you say, Hargrove.” She shut the door as he climbed his own porch. Looked at her cat.

   “You did this to us, I hope you’re proud.” 

   Bourbon blinked. Another rumbling purr in response.

** ** **

   “The world...” Evie plucked an idle cord. Sang soft to not disturb her mother down the hallway sleeping. Nestled into the wall on her bed next to the window. “May think I’m foolish. They can’t see you like I can...”

   Darkness shrouded save for a small set of twinkling lights around her bed frame. Eyes kept averting to the clock.

   “Oh, but anyone...who...” 

   Another pause to see the clock. Eyes flickered out along the street marked with lamps. Cracking her window to see out. Nothing. Evie settled. Changed the tune to something original and plucked another heart string.

   “Those ocean eyes… Drowning me out. What I wouldn't give to...” Her palm caught the vibrating cord to snuff the sound. A groan as she set the guitar aside. “Shit.”

   That was not happening.  

   A car went down the street at the exact moment the clock struck eleven. Evie grabbed her coat and locked her bedroom door. Checked her hair and makeup before hitching one leg over the window. Felt the naughty thrill pulse into her heart as she snuck out.

   Billy peered to see beyond his own window near the foot of his bed. Unseen in the pitch black space. Thought about catching her. It was always a Saturday night. Evie Fenny crept out like clockwork. Wearing something nice under a jacket she held close. Sometimes with the guitar on her back. Lips painted red. Went down the street and returned as the sun rose. He’d observed it often. Sometimes it happened on school nights. Two to three times a week. Never asked because it didn’t seem important enough before. But, now…

   Billy knew a teen girl didn’t paint her lips red at eleven o’clock on a Saturday for just anyone.

   Evie hurried down the street toward the woods at the end. Got into a shiny car. Disappeared until sunrise.

~~~~~

Chat with me about Evie & Billy and the impending Skirt Safari Dance! Thanks!

TAGGED:@80sbxtch​ @nottherightseason​ @orxhidshavana​   @alagalaska​ @alongcamedolly​

[spacegaywritings]

Warming Paws and Melting Walls (2/8) “The Naming of the Beast”

Summary: Remy gets home, his day unusually long and body extremely exhausted. Still, he and the cat seem to get along a bit better as they share a bit of time bonding in their weird states.

Tags: mentions of the vet (+ aftermath), abandoned cat, alcohol/wine, tipsy Remy (being a soft man), food/ meat, pain killer mention, drinking, dummy logic, dummy thicc fucking Remy, Remy the cat whisperer, mentions of Kim Kardeshian.. shien..? idk man, slight mention of systemic oppression bc wow Remy is spilling the beans, name talks, cuddling, snuggling, books, mentions of vaccines, soft insults bc Remy, purposefully horrible old english.

ao3: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 // all.

tumblr:  1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8.

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Note: If you miss any tags, have issues with links or any other concerns, please feel free to contact me. Anon is on and my DMs are open.

Story under the cut! (Wordcount: ~3,5k)

 It was late when the kitty cat and Remy returned and in all honestly, the receptionist was more than exhausted and done with everything. The whole day had taken a toll on him and interacting with people under bright lights was obviously not the best for a person with photo-sensitivity and self-diagnosed bitch syndrome.

 His body was hurting, the pain had gotten more intense and rendered him a heavy and sleepy mess. He still needed to feed the cat. While the pain killers had done some to ease his pain, the extra activity had him feel like absolute trash, after all.

At least, the vet had found the little queen to be healthy and taken good care of. It indicated that there were owners or strangers to take care of the kitten but there were no tattoos, no marks or anything. Whatever care the cat had received before, it seemed to be over now. Nobody was looking for the cat as far as the vet and the local pet shelter have told him.

 To make sure the cat would be okay, he got scheduled appointments for vaccinations (the kitty cat already got some that day). In like, a month, he was supposed to come back. Considering the cat was about one year old, it was time to refresh vaccinations anyway, at least that is what the vet said. There was so much information smoking in his brain and it hurt him. It was extra weight putting his head down.

 There was no chip for the kitten.. He would set up an ad on-line to show that the cat was found. He and the vet assume the cat to have run away from home or having been left behind after the family moved. Something like that.

Still, he could try so the cat would not really be his problem anymore. There was obviously no name tag or collar. He would have noticed, he is not that fucking dense. The vet, too.

 At least Remy got some answers for what the fuck this kitten should eat and could not ever eat because it could hurt.

 Also, the cat was a she. Well, too fucking bad Remy settled for they/them pronouns. While he talked to the cat, he could at least practice pronouns he usually did not use much. The cat could not get offended. Totally a win-win situatuon.

 The coffee lover curled up on the couch, kitty cat still somewhat drowsy in his lap.To be honest, the cat felt drunk to him, so Remy did not know better but to nurse his own wine while giving the kitten some chicken he had gotten for them.

 “Queen, you are a really really unbelievable thing”, he started as he looked at the tiny void in his lap that was currently chewing on a last bit of chicken pieces.

 He had removed all that bone stuff and washed off the meat before to make sure it was not seasoned or too greasy and such for the kitten. Totally no need to kill the poor thing when he could just be fucking careful and mind their needs and limits.

 “You know, you get all hot on those funny things and you are living with me now - without paying rent - and like, you do not even give me your a name. You are, like, the most mysterious person I have ever met. Fucking rude, you little harlot.”

 Remy sipped a bit of his wine and placed the package on the table. Yes, he drank wine out of a package because he was a cheap person. He needed to pay off the flat he had bought because his job did not make the most money ever. At least it was enough for him having a somewhat cozy and stable life.

 He carefully shifted under the warm weight of the warm fluff. Remy was so glad the vet cleaned the cat so he did not need to do that. Was that extra service? He definitely paid for this shit, not gonna lie. Well, he would get a bill eventually and then he could still get upset over that. Ultimately, it did not matter right? He had some savings and the cat would be gone soon because it was someone else’s kitty cat.

 It was not even in his place to just cuddle with the kitten while watching some bitch flick. But now that he had to ditch his weekend routine for the cat, they had to suck up for it. Also, he was just in a ton of pain by now and hoping for the local wine package to just knock him out well enough. If his senses were numbed, so were his pain receptors because brain foggy when Remy drunk-y.

 “Listen up, kitty cat. We might need a name for you, darling”, he started and looked down at how they were licking over their muzzle and nose.

 The meal was done and the cat seemed satisfied... The little tongue looked so cute, it was so so pink.

 “I mean, maybe you already have a name but calling you queen all the time ..”, he trailed off and shrugged, “you know, don’t know whether you, like, deserve that title to be a name. It is something you earn and live, but you are not just some queen. Except when you are some fucking royal but who the fuck cares about that shit.”

 The cat looked up at him and he vaguely looked back before sticking his tongue out and gently brushing through the soft fur of the little monster of coal he sheltered.

 “Yeah, right. Fuck the Queen. It is not the same as you being a queen. Anyway, it would kinda not be the same for you to be a queen and to be Queen. You know?“

 Remy chuckled as the kitten pushed its head against his ribcage.

 “You totally get me, don’t you?”

 The kitten meowed in reply and he continued to pet the little ball of softness. The little one even smelled great. Well, now.

 “Okay, let us give you a name that fits you. I don’t know, honey. Something fancy but also classy because it is you”, he giggled, “I don’t know but we will find something!”

  Remy gently picked up the little kitten and hummed as he stumbled over to the bookshelves. His wine was abandoned and the small void simply meowed in response to his actions.

 “You know what, fuck that show. They all suck anyway, honey. Reality TV is just a nice background .. nice, like.. what else would people watch Kim Kardeshian for? Genuine interest? Gurl, it is all about the sounds and sights or plainly being the malicious bitch to gossip and ridicule these people.”

 He giggled and settled before the bookshelf, sitting there with the little queen on his arms. Was queen a title, now? Not a name but somehow some kind of pet name, huh.

 “You know what, kitty?”, he whispered and the cat shook their head at the sudden sounds and the wet breath Remy offered. They pushed their little head against the man’s collar bone.

“I am that kinda bitch to do all the heavy gossiping.”

 He laid down and let the cat rest on his chest. His back was pressed against the dark floor in his reading corner. The curious little cloud looked around and stood up, tail curiously moving from one side to the other. Then it stayed and moved in slow-motion before returning to the other side while staying kinda between low and horizontal.

 Cats were so cute.

 And the cat really looked like a cloud.

A dark one.

Not a black sheep, a black cloud!

 “Storm cloouUuUuUd”, Remy sang softly and the cat turned back to him, letting out a responsive sound in reply.

 They understood him! Or were at least annoyed enough to react and give him a “what the fuck” look with all the sassy cat-ness in their bi-coloured orbs.

 “Aw!! You react! But that is a long way to go, still, you brooding little dust ghost.”

 He blew a little bit off of the cat’s head and brushed it off to make sure it was all clear. Maybe from the chicken or the couch.

He had to cleaaaan, ew. Woooork.

Bad cat. They really be spreading the dust around like a little ghost.

Damn it, he only wanted to find some nicknames for the small being.

  “Cat, can’t you do the work for me? I mean, come on, I totally got you to the vet and you got drugged for free. That is a real favour to do for a stranger, gurl.”

 The cat looked back up at him.

Oh, how could he have forgotten about that??

 “Bitch!”

 Remy exclaimed wildly and sat up, simply to fall back into the ground with a dull ‘thud’ accompanying his motions. The insides of his head seemed to be forcefully shrunk together and the tipsy man groaned in annoyance. The pain was so fuzzy and far away, it was basically a street sign on the other side of the street during a day of heavy fog.

All he did feel was the heaviness of his head and the horrible throbbing that came right after he limply dropped into the hard wood again.

 “uh… Aw, I am the dumb bitch, here. Kim, save me”, he weakly slurred.

 Obviously, he was in about the greatest state to take care of another being, especially one that was just as drowsy as him and slowly processed his sudden movements with flinches away from him.

When the man did not move, the curious guest nudged Remy’s nose with their own.

Had the coffee lover seen it, he would have swooned, probably.

 Well, on the other side, he slowly got himself together and carefully shifted again, this time being considerate of his own and the kitty’s needs. He was much slower, lethargic in a way, it would make Sloth itself jealous.

Eventually, he was in position, vision still blurred with blackish spots tainting his view on the dimly lit apartment.

  “So- as I was saying… wait”, he started yet trailed off soon after, voice quieting down and light eyes closing.

“uh.. yeah, I know where I left off. So, as I was, uh, saying.. Like, bitch! You are totally as tipsy as I am with all those killers in ya, big boi.”

 Once more, his own giggles filled the room while the cat just pushed their head against his chin. The creature somewhat vibrated a bit and it felt oddly funny to Remy. Indescribable sounds came from the little kitty cat. It did not sound like a Queen, not really. It was more like uh.. a cat. Nothing else Remy has ever heard sounded quite like that.

 “You uh.. you still need a name, you little void egg, you. Hihi.“

 Remy curled and gently cradled the black ball closer. His grip around the cat was secure yet loose. The cloud of nothingness was comfortably sunk into his arms as the man got onto his wobbly legs and moved his jelly sticks closer to the little corner of books and boxes once more.

The kitten did have more than just great taste to hide there when they first started exploring some shit around his flat.

 Their flat?

… uhh.. the doc said to look for the original owners.. oh man, he still had to do that on top of all the things he had to do. And he did not even know whether it was worth it but it was much better than just giving the cat over to some shelter.. uh.. cat thingy.. cat orphanage?

Cat orphanage. Sounded like a totally valid word. Yes, Remy, the name was, like, totally not sanctuary. Absolutely it was not. You fucking genius.

 The kitten was snuggled up to Remy’s chest, acutely unaware of the change of environment that slowly came around with Remy wandering off their spot to really dive into the corner of his secret reading delights. He was back on the oriel, the space were the floor was not any dark wood anymore but instead carpeted in wine red. This was the only piece of floor in his home that had a little bit of carpet and it just started with a provisional glass door he had put there with more than just a little effort.

Basically, this little corner was a glass globe library with the perfect sight on the snowy streets and other weather conditions throughout life. Due to architecture, he basically had a built-in bench because some oriels build a “dent” into the home which can be used as some kind of elaborate and excessively broad window sill.

 It was worth all the work he had put into it.

Whenever he came in to read, it was calm and silent, it was warm but easily adjusted by opening the windows or turning on the heating (considering he did not live in the warmest region on earth at all. In fact, he lived in a more moderate climate and enjoyed the tendency towards coolish temperatures. Despite climate change, there was still snow early in the winter months).

 The two curled up on the floor, leaning against a beanbag. Remy was leaning against the beanbag, to be specific. The kitten was curled up on Remy, cuddling into his arms like the hazy bitch they were. The Queen could barely process anything but well, steady ground it was.

Remy was resting on the bean bag, the cat silently meowing at the change of softness around them when the home-owner slowly turned his body for the kitten to slide against the bad with him.

Maybe the cat liked it. Nobody could know anything because the cat was out of it and also, cats were hell-spawns who were not to be understood but worshipped only.

 A book was resting in Remy’s lap. When did he pull it there? He did not remember. Maybe it had just settled with him, flying over or whatnot.

The book was one hell of a beast.

Pages upon pages were stacked on top of one another and bound together in the obscene creation of a whole book that held knowledge, big enough to rival a human brain in size - at least when putting this knowledge onto pages in barely readable fonts and size.

 “Yo, cat. We need a name for ya, honey.”

 He let his head roll to the side and then back into position again. The void looked over at him and seemed to shrug. Maybe Remy was imagining things.

 “Uh.. You can’t read that for me, now, can you? Why do people even get cats, man. Like, no offence but is that not why we have human beings? So we socialise and uh .. uh like.. taaaalk and hate one another. Cuz we totaaally need that kinda interaction.”

 His voice let the words blend in together, the muffled sentence barely resembling different words or sounds but instead one big hum. Useless blabber, at most. Not that the pet would understand him if he was putting proper effort into talking like a sober and completely sane person.

 “Caaat. Caaaat, just learn reading? Give yourself a name, gurl. Independence!”

 Yeah, well.. This seemed not to work, in fact, it obviously resembled a fruitless endeavour instead. Much like teaching a donkey how to sow greens, the cat took up Remy’s words and ignored them skilfully. Even in his tipsy mind, he was well aware that an animal would not just magically learn reading and then read out to him. However, the wishful thinking was still in his heart… and his foggy dummy mind.

He reverted to child-like attention spans and reasoning abilities whenever he got to drink just a bit more than a little. And honestly, the wine got a little to him, especially with this bottomless void eating, like, all of this fucking chicken.

 He mumbled something about sharing under his breath before he pulled the book closer and heaved it open with his weak noodle power. There was not that much energy left in his heart. He was tipsy and as soft as molten butter.

The book groaned as it was opened, awakening the pages of knowledge from deep slumber.

It willingly dropped the front and backside onto Remy’s lap. It spread like a good partner for the intimate deeds. The excitement of being handled and warmed by a knowledge-seeking person got to it and drove the book to reveal just the right passage for them.

 “Names.. Names. Kitty cat, pick a name.”

 “mrrrow..?”

 “Yeah, hoe, but like, you’re a Queen.. to me and not to others so how about you lemme pick a name,  so the mortals can give you their foolish attempts of daring to raise their voice at you without spoiling your title, you void hoe.”

 The cat gave him a slow-motion blink of two eyes. These wonderfully coloured eyes.. How were cats allowed to just have such precious gems as eyes. Like.. did he rob some jewellery store thing.. did they have names again, he felt like they had some kinda name and he was supposed to know this and all.

Uh, he would be clever later.

 “Alright. This is a name dictionary thing. Like, for when you get a baby and you need to name that little shit, so the system can discriminate against it. It gives you names, you know. You have them according to the alphabet which is a linguistic attempt at bringing order into the way we communicate and organise shit. By the way, this is totally lame because language is fucking liv- ah, uh.. alive. That’s the bitch I was looking for.”

 Remy suppressed a burp before he allowed himself to continue.

 “Can you .. can you just paw this thing?”

 The cat did not move. Uh.. He carefully nudged the little monster. A lazy glare was thrown his way but this is where it stopped. Such a lazy hoe. They would be the bestest of friends very soon.

Seriously, kitten? Not even some dumbass meow sound or whatever? Wow, okay. Selfish much.

 He groaned.

Now we was getting upset with a little cat. He made it this far in his life. Instead of diving deeper into any negative feelings, he moved himself. His finger gently tapped onto the paw once more and softly stroked it before putting it onto the page.

 “Oh, mine own dearest liege, I has't did summon all the fucks i has't hath left to giveth and ‘t wast enow to maketh.. this miracle! Uh - thou hath moveth thy fucking paw. ”

 …Not even that did get the cat to as much as meow at him. At LEAST the void monster spared him a glance of annoyance for his effort. Valid, valid. At least some feedback, thundercloud. Yet, the moment was gone as soon as it came and the kitten then dropped the whole thing and looked down again.

Some sorta ritual to close their eyes and nap away. Even the cat had better living habits than he did.

 “Nonononono, dun nap jus yeeeet! V-V … uh..”

 He had taken up the name from the book, accepting the fate of the paw and started looking into the decision of the higher spirits. He was ready to act up on whatever the heavens and skies and all that shit have decided for the cat to be named.

 The man squinted at the pages.

The top of it said “V”, so he knew that this was the start for their name now. Of course the Queen would be such a diva and end up with a name as unique as starting with such a rare letter. Totally Extra :tm:.

To be fair.. who the fuck used those letters anyway, man.. xylophone? Laaaaaaaaaaaame. Virginia, Voltron, V-.. V…

 “Virgil”

 Remy blinked.

He blinked multiple fucking times.

The name did NOT, unlike his mind’s stupid expectation, suddenly change into something like, uh, you know,… Jared. Some funny shit.

 No, it was still this name. Virgil.

 “Is that even a name for a cat who I declare to be gendered in the neutral only? Uh, you know.. whatever, like, it is whatever because you are a QUEEEEEENG.. Queen.. a queen. You just un-rule gendered names. They are stupid anyway, guuurl. Fuck this all.”

 “Queen Virgil! Now how does that make you feel, huh?”

 The kitten gave him another blink and finally retreated their paw.

 “Yeah, my little nightmare goat. We are gonna go nap all night, all day!”

 The man giggled again. Then he made sure to just give up and fall asleep like that, curled up on a beanie, kitty cat fur tickling him and doing nothing to facilitate his breathing. All he breathed in was ai- uh.. No.. Virgil’s fur.

 Welcome to a change of life, huh?

Or simply: “Welcome, Virgil”.

[exo-reacts-to-you]

Alluring Aura {New Euphoria}

1/ you have chosen Kyungsoo! ♥ {New Euphoria}

♡ genre: angst & smut / readerbodyguard!au / billionaire!au

♡ trigger warning: violence, swearing, mentions of physical abuse, and sexual content. 

♡ summary: Kyungsoo was known for his cold appearance & the deadly silence he held in his cunning eyes. You, the most elite bodyguard was ready to protect no matter the cost. But with him, no one knew who he was deep inside & never dared to let anyone in & you never really knew your past life up until now.

Are you willing to risk your life and emotions over this?

You heard about many things about one man in particularity named Kyungsoo. Not in detail as in other people’s eyes he was only known as a proper yet dangerous man. 

The only thing interesting that made your ears perk up was the whispers around town lately about how he allegedly murdered his whole family because “he was a greedy bastard who wanted nothing more in the world than to have the money to himself and only to himself” you quoted what the general popular of the small town thought.

You couldn’t help but chuckle when your eyes landed on the picture of Kyungsoo that was printed on the fresh newspaper in your hands, his cold stare only questioned even more about what kind of man he really was. Or perhaps maybe he is what it seems like. Maybe, maybe he is truly a cold killer that needed the thrill, the fun that got him off.

The thoughts began to swirl around your mind the more you got around it but it all soon vanished as you felt a deep vibrate against your clothed thigh, reaching in your pants pocket to answer the call from-

“Miss (Y/N) come over to my place now.” 

You knew from his tone that he wasn’t playing around and you said a quick yes before hanging up, grabbing the iced coffee that was slightly melting on your table before tipping the waitress and leaving in your sleek black car that was waiting in the clear moonlight.

-

“What were you doing out so late?” Kyungsoo mumbled as soon as you opened the door to his secretly located mansion, hearing your shoes tap on the marble floor that echoed the empty walls of his home.

“I wanted to see what the small town thought about you annnddd it’s not that great of a reputation you have there.” You hung your black trench coat on one of his hooks and make way towards the couch where he was reading one of those books he gotten off from his bookshelf, his reading glasses that slid all the way to the tip of his nose but he didn’t seem to notice as his eyes were focused on the printed words.

“It’s been two days and you’re already leaving my side? Thought you were an ‘elite’ bodyguard.” He said in his usual monotone voice, not once looking at you by the way he was very intrigued on his book instead. You scoff at his words and rolled your eyes, your attention redirected on your phone as you began to look for proof.

“Your assistant texted me saying that she was going to have other bodyguards hired just in case you didn’t like me or enjoyed my company and insisted in her own words I quote, “Kyungsoo does not need a women to protect him and has decided to look for another bodyguard so you don’t need to be by his side today.” So I went to a nice coffee shop and enjoyed my time there.”

Kyungsoo lifted his head from his book to face you, his eyes burning directly towards your own as if what you said was just one big lie.

 A few seconds passed and he saw that your eyes did not waver at once and concluded that you were saying the truth, closing his book shut so loudly that the sound was bouncing off the walls, ringing in your ears.

“I like you. So don’t leave my side until I say so.” 

He said it ever so softly but you caught on, humming a quick “mmh” before lifting your body off of the couch and leaving his presence alone to go to the kitchen. His cold eyes you saw for a quick moment briefly showed you a soft side of him that strangely enough warmed your heart. You were so used to people not going ‘soft’ on you so emotions and feelings were not in your best suit per say.

After getting the chilled water bottle that was in his refrigerator, you went back to the living room where Kyungsoo was still seated, flipping the pages ever one in a while.

“Sir, I’m going to be in the gym training for a bit. If you need anything just call me okay?” Kyungsoo lifted his hand as a way of telling you he understood and off you went down to the gym area in his mansion.

Walking down the hallways you can see one of the paintings on the wall that caught your eye, causing you to stop midway in the dark area. You could make out the drawing, a woman and a man who seemed much older holding each other in their embrace, their smiles ear to ear.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Fuck-.” You inhaled as you felt a sharp pang in your head, your knees giving you as you landed harshly on the carpet that was rolled out in the hallways.

“Who do you think you are!? Some slut that can just disobey me!?”

Your vision was so blurry, only hearing the quick heartbeat that was poking your ribcage. You tried to breathe in and out, hoping that the image in your head would go away soon.

“You won’t get away so easily now.” the person loomed over your figure while you can make out another person behind them, they slashed a semi deep cut on your throat, the fire that fueled the blood spilled as you scream in agonizing pain.

The pain was hurting so much around your neck area, placing your hand over it and trying to massage it and suddenly, the pain was gone.

Vanished completely.

It took you a few minutes to register what happened and you chuckled, pitying yourself at the fact that you just had these nightmares coming back again ever since you started to work with Kyungsoo.

It never gave you much thought though so you pushed it aside as stupidly as it sounds. You were far more worried about the man you were suppose to be protecting than the demons that had possessed inside your head and memories.

But how were you even suppose to protect the man when you didn’t even know if he was good or not? You shook your head, that wasn’t for you to decide but it the idea of Kyungsoo being something..horrible kept on rubbing you the wrong way.

On nights like these you keep on wondering. And you wish you could stop because you can’t judge him, not on the accusations, not the reputation they built on him. But you couldn’t lie when you admit that you too, the one many people consider you as the elite and brave bodyguard, turned out not being so brave when it came down to the own issues that were constantly weighing you down. That painting resembled so much like the figures you could make out in your nightmares and it scared you like hell. Why was this happening to you?

You couldn’t make out most of your past as you only remember having a family that looked far from what you looked like but it was nice, being trained by a family who knew martial arts and wanted you to become the best. And part of you was curious as to why your adopted family never really told you what happened to you when they found you helpless in the orphanage. 

“When given the order, you must obey..” You whispered to yourself as you stood up, brushing off the dust that cling on to your knees. Walking more down towards the hallway, you pray to god that you can protect this man as best as you can. Given the title to your name, you wished to give off the same impression and not to back down when a fight will arise.

“You need to be ready, and so you will.” you think to yourself.

-

2 months later.

-

“You got a message!”

You groaned as you felt the phone vibrate in your hand, remembering that you were watching a show on your phone last night before falling into a deep sleep. You pressed the home button to see the message unfold before you.

From: Kyungsoo / 2:00 pm: I need you to come with me to get more suits for an event this evening.

You groaned as you saw the time but made it out of bed with every bit of strength you had, your eyes spotting out the display of clothes on top of the white silk bed sheets. It was a plain simple white blouse paired with a black pencil skirt along with some sleek black heels.

“Cute.” You mumbled to yourself, also noticing the small pocket knife that was hiding between the clothes and it made you even more happy. You didn’t really need it since you were mastered the art of martial arts and were highly obliged to fight on one on one but the thought that Kyungsoo had given you extra protection unconscionably pasted a small smile on your face. 

As you swiftly put on the clothes with a cute purse to go along with it and carefully wrapping the pocket knife in a ribbon on your black stockings that your wore underneath the small pencil skirt, you open the door to see Kyungsoo’s stone cold face directly near you and you jumped back like a cat that got bat shit scared.

“F- I mean S-Sir! I just finished getting dress-”

“Good. We can’t be late Miss (Y/N).” He abruptly cut you off. You noticed his eyes trailing off to the clothes he gave you and you smirked, twirling around to display the tight fabric on your body.

“Do I look good?”

“You look like my secretary, which is good.” He said too quickly, hiding his face. You secretly let out a smile before he saw it, seeing his ears slightly going red the more you looked at him.

So fucking cute.

He coughed into his hand, turning his back on to yours.

“We need you to not look like my bodyguard if you get what I mean.” You nodded, understanding his words. Personally, it was really fun to dress up all feminine and for your opponent to think “wow she looks so feminine so can’t possibly be a fighter” and then 10 seconds later whooped their ass was the fun of it all in your job.

“Come, we need to get there quick. The people are at this event are important. The company I’ve started are for those in need of shelters and areas that need more schools to be built and we can’t be late for it.” You nodded as you were walking side by side with Kyungsoo, briefly catching a glimpse of his face that basked in the sunlight, also catching his assistant on the far side in your view making a disgusted face at you to which you scoff at her actions in your mind.

-

As the hours passed by, you both lost track of the time due to Kyungsoo having a hard time picking the colours before you just told him he’ll look good in any colour and with that thought on his mind he chose to buy all grey suit with a black tie. 

It was getting dark soon, your mind was more alert with the surrounding around you and Kyungsoo, watching closely to the people that walked passed by. Something was bothering you, telling you something wasn’t right and you knew to trust your gut feeling so you were on the lookout.

As you both turned down into the ally way where you were almost near where the car was parked, you suddenly heard soft footsteps approaching behind you, abruptly grabbing Kyungsoo’s arm into a halt.

“I heard something.” Kyungsoo nodded and stayed still, his eyes wandering around in the dark ally but his vision wasn’t nearly as good even with his glasses on him.

 It was so silent that you could hear his and your own breathing, till you saw the figure approaching out of the shadows where you could clearly see them in the pale moonlight.

“I believe we have unfinished business together, Do Kyungsoo.”

The voice was deep, clear and crisp but you once did not waver, turning around to see if anyone else was with this man but clearly it was only the figure that was a lone wolf.

“There was no business to begin with.” Kyungsoo said sternly, he also wasn’t gonna back down so easily as he was walked in front of you, his hand clasping onto yours.

“Sir, I can protect you please.” You leaned in and whispered into his ear but he pretended that he didn’t hear you, not turning around to face you and instead tried to walk closer to the mysterious man but you kept him from moving. You weren’t going to let Kyungsoo risk his life, you had a purpose and that was to protect him with your life on the line.

The man clocked his head to the side with his slightly dark curly hair in the way, his eyes burning holes directly into yours and chuckled darkly. His hand was now reaching slowly for his back pocket as you concentrated on the details of how this was all gonna go down.

“Is this your new pet? What happened to your old one? Died out too soon?”

Kyungsoo frowned and didn’t say a word, leaving up to his icy cold eyes expresses his angry behind it instead. You knew this man was trying to get Kyungsoo more worked up but since you been working with Kyungsoo for 2 months now, you can tell his shell was more dense to break through to get to him.

The man noticing his silence, he walked a few more steps and with that your body moved itself like in slow motion. You moved Kyungsoo out of the way before the man could lift his gun to line his shot properly and you quickly grabbed his arm, twisting it as he yelped in pain giving you an opportunity to use your other hand to grab the gun out of his hand.

As the man fell onto his knees while yelling in agonizing pain you quickly aim at him with his gun while your back was facing Kyungsoo, his sudden laugh cutting off the tension.

“Oh I see how is it. After a couple of my friends choose to kill your pet and almost tried to get you, you thought your new one could protect you?” A smile pranced around on his lips as he slowly stood up, his other hand grasping of his twisted broken arm.

“Just remember the deal, Kyungsoo.” He winked and turned around, his now heavy footsteps left the scene and now it was just you and Kyungsoo alone again in the ally way. You turned around to see Kyungsoo looking at you directly now, his silent aura was starting to kill you. So many questions were popping up in your mind and you couldn’t even say anything as you decided it was the best to keep your mouth shut so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself.

“Come.” Was all he said as he reached for the gun that you grabbed so hard that your knuckles turned white, seeing the colour flushed back to normal as he gently yet firmly interlocks your hand with his and made it back into his car.

You noticed how his eyebrows were furrowed, his mouth formed into a line and his face was just, firm. You knew that look but you couldn’t exactly pinpoint what the real reason behind it all. The man had intentions, clearly they weren’t good at all.

“Just remember the deal.”

You turned your attention to the destination, realizing that you were already in the car and he was driving back to his place quickly. His eyes solely focusing on the road as you looked out to the car window, it was almost nighttime but you hope that incident didn’t make you guys late for the event at all.

“It’s almost 8.” Kyungsoo’s voice cut the tension that was floating around, his eyes drifted onto your figure before looking back at the road. You let out a soft “mhm” and sighed, all these emotions and questions were too much for you but you concealed it for the sake of the job and to also be completely profession.

“Is this your new pet?”

His snarky voice kept on appearing, shaking your head. Was there someone else protecting Kyungsoo? What happened to them? You sighed again and this time Kyungsoo noticed, raising his eyebrow a bit.

“Are you okay Miss (Y/N)?” You gave him a tiny smile along with a nod.

“Just tired but I’ll be fine for the event tonight.” You reassured him and he nodded, finally arriving at his huge mansion. As he parked his car you saw his assistant almost nearly fall while trying to run towards him, breathing heavily as she numerously tapped on the glass window of his car. He turned the windows down and waited for her to catch her breath.

“W-What took you guys so-..long? The event is almost about to start!” She asked, wiped the sweat off her forehead with the cuffs of her white shirt as she catching her breath. You heard Kyungsoo chuckle and opened the door on his right, his assistant moving out of the way so he can get out of his car fully.

“Miss (Y/N) and I have encountered someone along the way but that’s been taking care of.” He said, his hand motioning for me to get out the car and so I did, with him opening the door for me as I got out only to be met by his assistant’s annoyed look pasted on her sweaty face behind him.

“God I told you Kyungsoo to just fired her already! She’s making you lat-”

“You’re making me late by blabbing nonsense. Now, can you please get Miss (Y/N) dress ready for the event?” You smirked as you saw her smug face turned sour as his voice got more demanding and strict. She nodded quickly and ran out with her heels clicking together.

As her clicking heels sound was gone, he turned around and god was it hard to keep your composure when he looked at you. It was hard enough that your client was so fucking beautiful but it’s another thing when you saw his hand reaching out towards yours as if he was learning for your touch. You motioned your petite hands towards his, his hand grabbing yours with a mysterious glint that simmering in his warm chocolate eyes.

“Kyungsoo-”

“Don’t believe in what he said.” Was all that Kyungsoo said before he pulled away his hand away, the touch that ignited the spark in your heart faded too fast for your liking that you grabbed onto Kyungsoo’s arm and turned him around, his whole figure that towering around you. 

His cologne was a mixture notes of wood, lavender with a hint of spice. It consumed your nostrils the more he got closer, hoping he couldn’t hear your rapid heartbeat banging on your rib cage. You lost your train of thought as you both continue to stare at each other, realizing that your phone was now vibrating with new messages that snapped you out of your trance.

“I-..call me (Y/N) please. Miss is too formal.” 

Fuck! That’s definitely NOT what you wanted to say god damnit.

He stared at you for a few moments before nodding and letting of your hand that grasp on his arm so tightly, his back was all you can see as it kept on reminding you that he was not like the other clients you had before. But that’s what you kinda like about Kyungsoo. The mystery behind it even though the curiosity of finding it out kills you. 

You grabbed the phone out of your purse and saw the angry messages from his assistant and mentally wanted to face palm the shit out of your face. Not because of the messages but because your poorly chosen words you picked out of hesitating and now he probably thinks your a weirdo for stopping him like that.

“Great job (Y/N)..” You grumbled and made your way to the door, swinging the door open to see her face, that smug face that shouldn’t even be there to begin with but you managed to break a smile before pushing your way through the door, hearing her scoff at you.

-

The event was doing fairly fine as the people in their fancy suits and dresses were mingling with each other. The pleasant sound of soulful jazz danced around in the beautifully lit room, the chandeliers shining bright like a rare diamond in the starry night sky that touch your heart. A feeling that brought a small smile on your face and Kyungsoo saw as well.

“How’s the event going so far?” He asked, his arm intertwined with yours as you walked to the table where the food was presently nicely. 

“It’s fine, I guess. Are you enjoying it Sir?” His expression was hard to tell but alas he gave you a reassuring smile before grabbing tons of food from the table like a hamster trying to stuff all the food in his mouth. You let a stiff laugh which caught his attention, his eyebrow raised in to a question. You shook your head and continued to eat what the chef had to offer the event, the deliciously seasoned cooked meals were enough to fill you up for the night.

As the event continued to play on it was time for Kyungsoo’s speech on his company so when he left to go up on the stage you were standing right between where the people gathering around with your red silk dress that reach to the bottom of the marble floor, the crowd welcomed him with loud claps along with some warm smile you swore hid some ugly lies to them. Although you knew that Kyungsoo was loved by everyone you also knew that deep down it was also because of a hatred that stirred up inside of them, jealous that they couldn’t do what he did and instead try to take them down.

It didn’t even take a second to register that there was something fishy going on tonight. The atmosphere took by storm every minute thatpassed and you couldn’t exactly say what is was. You could see a pair of unknown eyes in the crowd that was watching you, but you couldn’t see them as the people were humbly bundled up together as Kyungsoo’s speech went on.

When his speech was done and the people continuously clapped before he walked off he abruptly frowns at you and you were confused for a bit but then felt your heart drop like hell the second when you felt a pair of hands harshly grabbing at your skin, facing a man when a simple black suit on with multiple rings on his fingers, a smile that made you wanted to run for your life you stood firmly on your grounds.

“Miss..(Y/N) isn’t it? I heard many things about you.” His voice was gravelly, low and rough that gave a shiver down your spine to which he noticed right away and smiled at Kyungsoo, sensing the fear in his eyes that took you by surprise since you never saw Kyungsoo had that look before.

“Not much of a talker huh? Well my name is Kim Joo Won.” He took your hand and placed a kiss on the surface of your skin, taking every strength of your body not to punch the dude right off the bat.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Kim Joo Won.” You said with a forced pearly white smile, your nose burning at the smell of alcohol when he got closer which made Kyungsoo walked right in front of you, instantly replacing with the cologne you warmly recognize.

“What do you want Joo Won?” Kyungsoo said in a gruff voice, you titled you head to the side to see Joo Won now smirking at Kyungsoo at the sight of you guys.

“Nothing much except for that thing that made you become known for.” Joo’s voice’s soaked in venom as his eyes danced around mischievously.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You looked at Kyungsoo to see his anger sweeping through his body, his hand formed into a fist but his voice still staying monotone. Joo Won faked a small fake laugh as he begins to walk slowly towards Kyungsoo in small steps, the clicking of his fancy shoes getting louder.

“My men sacred you didn’t they? You knew what was going to happen if you didn’t give what we wanted and yet you still want to play native?” The more Joo Won walked closer to Kyungsoo the more you fret for his life, your hand clinging onto his arm and you swore you felt Kyungsoo lessen his muscles a big from your touch. His face was now so close to Kyungsoo, his breath particularly hitting his face.

“Don’t forget Kyungsoo, you know who wants that stupid prized art piece the most.” He spat and left, pushing his shoulder in the way as he disappeared into the shadows of the room.

The amount of silence was you could only hear was unbearable even when you were in a room with so many people dining and enjoying the company of others and Kyungsoo’s absent of words was making it worse. But finally he faced you, his hair was gelled to perfection was slowly falling down, his sculptured face structure got you hypnotized for a second. 

The events that just happened seem like they didn’t even happened as he was all you could think now, never knowing what he was thinking in this moment. You saw the dust on his shoulder next to his neck and without thinking it twice you moved your hand to dusted it off, his whole body move frantically away from you and his face winced in pain as if you stabbed him there. 

“I-Kyungsoo! Are you-” 

“I’m fine.” He inhaled sharply as he closed his eyes tightly as his clasped over his neck, hissing in pain. You widen your eyes as you looked down to stare at your hands trembling. You didn’t brush it off harshly so why was he in pain?

“Let’s get out of here.” You didn’t have to say anything as he already had a grip on your hand and dragged you out the place that was all too much for you to consume.

-

When you arrived at his place your heart was still racing at the events that kept on playing in your mind. Who was the man in the ally way? Who was Kim Joo Won? What was the prized art piece? Why was Kyungsoo in pain like that? Who were those people that kept appearing in your nightmares? Once again, you felt like you were trapped in a tightly closed room with no air, with every gasp of you breathing was losing and you felt your chest constrained so tightly that you fell to you knees that stopped Kyungsoo in his tracks.

“(Y/N)!” He exclaimed as he fell to his knees and brushed your hair to your ear to see your red sweaty face but you couldn’t snap out of it, making it hard for you to catch your breath.

“Breathe in and out. That’s it.” You took Kyungsoo’s words and began to inhale and exhale, the thoughts and questions subsided and now you widen your eyes at the fact that you were in Kyungsoo’s arms in the middle of his dimly lit living room.

“O-Oh my god Kyungsoo I’m so sorry.” He shook his head and placed his hand on top of your head, comforting you as you sighed deeply in his warmth and leaned in closer to his firm chest. You could hear his loud heartbeat against your ear, letting your body relax against his and for the first time you felt it again.

The warmth that you never recognized once in all of your life. But here it was, a foreign feeling that you carved so much that you wanted to drown in it, let it consume you with all of the other feelings that came with it. The pain, the struggle of wanting to say something, it all seemed to melt away the second his long arms wrapped around your waist and you nuzzled your face against his chest once more. This was a drug that was eating you alive but you could care less as now you could feel his body move under you, his head moving down a bit and placed a small kiss on the crown of your head.

“I’m sorry about today.” His voice now low and raspy, your ears perked up.

“No, I’m sorry Sir. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that.”

“No please, call me Kyungsoo.” 

“Sir- I mean Kyungsoo” You corrected hastily, “I didn’t mean to touch you like that..”

Kyungsoo fell into a silent abyss that got you worried about but then he spoke again.

“Do you remember what that man in the ally way said?” Of course you did. It was all you could even think about. You nodded and he hesitantly continued on.

“I never really told anybody this but my parents..they never really cared about my well being and it took a while before..” He trailed off, hearing his heartbeat going faster as the minutes passed by.

“They wanted me dead. I know that for a fact.” You didn’t know what to say, your heart now dreaded at the thought of his fears of someone out there to get you was just like yours except you couldn’t exactly remember a thing at all before becoming a bodyguard. He caught on with your absent now and sighed, feeling his chest move up sightly.

“I’m sorry for bringing you all in this mess.”

“You’re my client Kyungsoo. It’s my job to protect you no matter the cost.” You tilted your head upwards against his chest to his eyes staring down at yours, those damn sweet brown eyes catching your breath. He seemed a bit disappointed by the way his wavered around, avoiding eye contact with you as he pressed his lips into a tight line before unwrapping his arms around you and pushing you away, the cool breeze that touches your skin instantly.

“I’m..gonna go to sleep.” He stood up and with a heavy heart that dropped in your stomach you were forced to see him walk away from you every time you got closer to him. You knew something had happened to him. The way he would wince away from your fingertips the moment you felt his skin prick out, his fear swimming around into his pupils every time you wanted to get closer to him. 

All of this just reminded you that you should’ve never gotten closer to him in the first place, should’ve pushed your emotions and feelings away from a man that was closed off in his own world already. But even when he pushed you away you saw his soft gentle smile whenever you were in his presence, or when you made sure whenever he wasn’t stressing out alone it gave you...hope.

And when you fell in love with him more every single day, the more distinct he putted in between him and you was ripping you apart painfully so. 

-

6 months later.

-

Many days and months have passed by since that incident and you were on the edge as you could feel something bad was going to happen. It was your natural instinct to know when something was going to jump out or when someone was going to plan something and but this, this was too hard to make it out of something.

And as the months went by, you saw Kyungsoo get more strict with how he was around you and everyone else working along besides him. You had to suck it up and pretend that it wasn’t affecting you in any way but how could you when it annoyed you so much about how he wasn’t going to even let you try to protect. Why have you around when he wasn’t going to let you do anything?

You lifted your head up at your door swing wide open in a flash, Kyungsoo’s assistant marching with her eyebrows furrowed in a bunch into your bedroom (Kyungsoo would call it the guest room but you made it into your own room) before stopping right where the bed stood in the room.

“What is it now? Gonna throw more insults at me?” You didn’t even bother to look at her as she would occasionally go into your room drunk or not and tell you were a shitty bodyguard, which you thought was a complete waste of time on her part.

 “I like to apologize (Y/N).” You widen your eyes at her sudden soft voice and whipped your head towards her direction now, her face looking down, too timid to face you.

“...Is this a joke?”

“No, I’m serious. Can’t you tell?” You shook your head and she sighed, now sitting down on the bed beside you where you stood up when she barged in.

“I..realized that I was a complete asshole to you for no reason. Well actually, scratch that, I was kinda of an asshole for one reason.” You raised your eyebrow at her, her petite face still looking at the ground as she fiddle around with her fingers in her lap.

“I wanted to be Kyungsoo for a while now and to see him so close to you was..a stab to the heart and I tried so hard to get rid of you but I see how much he cares about you (Y/N).” You felt your heart drop at the mention of his name that you didn’t even hear the rest of her sentence, so bittersweet that it hurts to even breathe but you kept it under control as she continued on

“I was around him for a while ever since he wasn’t on good terms with his parents, still isn’t. And the amount of times he got his throat constrained with a rough rope while I was there with my body tapped onto a chair was so fucking scary. They wanted what he had. Money. And that art piece he has kept around is the reason why they want him dead. It was the reason why it got his family rich in the first place. And I couldn’t protect Kyungsoo as much I like to and seeing how you kept yourself around made me really jealous and then later on angry because Kyungsoo wouldn’t believe me when I told him that you could help him, saving his life and saving him from drowning himself in those thoughts he kept.”

You felt the throat dry, the words you want to say weren’t coming out but you managed to bring yourself out of it.

“Has he ever told you those thoughts he kept to himself?” You asked softly. She now lifted her eyes from the ground and into yours, her eyes tearing up as her lips begin to tremble on their own.

“No but I do know what it’s like to not be loved by someone you want to impress so badly and to have those thoughts overwhelm you..”

Her words trailed off as well and was now placing her hands over her face, tears that were kept inside for so long was being let out and you passed over the petty drama you had between each other and embrace her in your arms, her face now crying into your shoulder while your hands rub her back to subside her tears a bit.

“But I know Kyungsoo wants you (Y/N) and I don’t want to push him into liking me if he found someone that can make him happy.” You couldn’t let go of those words once she said them out loud.

“Someone that can make him happy.”

You also felt the tears beginning to well up in your eyes and you closed them as you embrace her harder in your arms, letting the tears escape once you register that for a man to is known for his rough exterior, it’s all because of the ones he loved the most hurt him, ruined him. Made him feel like nothing to the point where he couldn’t feel people’s emotions around him because he was too busy putting his guard up on himself.

As she stopped crying and left your embrace you bid your goodbyes to her and she left your room, leaving you and the emptiness in your room be in your presence again but this time it was good. You lay your head on the soft bed, your heavy eyelids began to close down and you let yourself swim in the darkness that devour all the vision you had.

“You never learn do you?” The voice sneered at you as they harshly placed their rough hands around your swollen neck and you yelp, the pain increasing making it hard for you to breathe, their eyes right in front of you as you felt the light you once had was now vanishing by the time you tried to fight back.

You gasped and lift your upper body up as the nightmares came back up, placing your hand on your neck that had the pain thumping was now missing. You closed your eyes as you sense that this was wrong, these nightmares weren’t right. You never had them up until now and when you saw that damn painting in that hallway that one night. The pain that would appear in your neck would be gone every time you put your hand over it didn’t make sense at all. But all of this was cut off as you heard someone knocking on your bedroom door.

“Come in.” You croaked and tried to brush your hair out with your fingers, your eyes meeting with Kyungsoo’s as he stood awkwardly in your room, noticing that he was wearing the suit that he bought when you guys went shopping a few months ago.

“I need you to come with me to get some groceries.” You wanted to sass him in that moment and tell him to ask his other bodyguards to go with him but something was stopping you in your tracks to do so you all you did was nod like robots in command.

You were in your black sweatpants with a simple tank top, your nipples poking out when the slight cold breeze hits you. As you got out of your bed and began to stretch you looked over at Kyungsoo’s face all red, fake coughing in his fist and he was caught by the sly smirk on your pretty face, the hair perfectly tousled but in a cute way in his vision.

-

Kyungsoo had no problem when it came down to cooking so when it came down to grocery shopping he was quick as hell. He had the whole meal and ingredients imprinted in his mind so he was quick with the way he grab the organic items before you both headed out of the place, the cool gust of wind that hits your hands that was holds on to Kyungsoo’s arm, the scenery of the orangery sky that reminds of the many restless nights you had when you had some time alone to yourself in your bedroom when Kyungsoo was busy with his work upstairs.

As you were getting closer to his place you felt him stop, your body pulled back into a halt as you look to see Kyungsoo’s happy state of mind was now replaced with a disrupted grunt, his eyes narrowed at the right in front of him.

“So we meet again, Kyungsoo.” This time he wasn’t alone, you see as you couldn’t thought this wouldn’t get worse.

Kim Joo Won and the man you met in the ally way, a whole group of men with their pitch black expensive suits and their little toys were in their hands, grinning at the sight of a man and a woman they preceded to be helpless already.

“I’m not giving it up.” Kyungsoo said firmly, his voice meaning that he was playing around but it was all funny to Joo Won himself and his gang behind him as they laughed, their eyes twisting of joy.

“God you’re so god damn stupid. You’re the one who made this deal after all.”

“And I’m not that stupid to give in.”

“Fine. So it be idiot.” Joo Won motioned his hand to the curly hair man to you and gave you sickly evil smile on his lips.

“We’ll take your new prized pet then.” 

Fuck no you’re not!

You acted scared and screamed a raspy ‘out of breath’ no as he took your wrist spilling the groceries in the process and pulled you towards him as you quickly looked at Kyungsoo and gave him a reassuring look just before you acted even more hysterically scared out of your mind and screamed louder before Joo Won’s hand put his hand in front of your mouth.

“Your new pet is quick loud for much for my taste..” Joo won swiftly pulled a gun out of his back pocket and placed it next to your temple, seeing Kyungsoo’s emotions get the best of him as he tried to step towards you but was stopped by the other men that were holding him back down and with the curly man’s other hand with a gun in his leather gloved hands.

“I think it’s best to put her down, don’t you think Do Kyungsoo?” Kyungsoo only had eyes on you but still didn’t move as he was still afraid of what he was truly going to do with you.

But you were always one step ahead of your opponents.

In one swift movement you move your head to the side and grabbed Joo Won’s wrist moving it upward, his fingers pulling the trigger that caused to miss his firing shot and you kicked him in the stomach, causing him to let go of the gun that you caught with your free hand. You quickly started to wave your gun around at the curly hair man and the two men holding down Kyungsoo in their grip.

“You move and I’ll shoot you in the leg.” You stated, watching the man that had the gun in his hand movements carefully and cautiously. He gave you a playfully smirk and clocked his gun at you, his eyes remaining cold and steady.

“I’ll go first sweetheart.” You saw his finger about to press on the trigger to which you moved your body side by side, avoiding every shot he took before he had the gun in his hand kicked out by your kick and was shot by your bullet, his hand bleeding out crimson blood where you shot him at as he yelled out in pain, his figure bowing down before you and you took this opportunity to knock with out with his gun from the floor you picked up and shot him in leg to disable him to walk for a bit.

As you turned around you saw the rest of the members circling around you slowly, your eyes eyeing them attentively before one of them starting to dash in front of you. You then use your elbow to aim at his eyes, sensing that someone was coming up behind you so you used the blinded man as your shield quickly causing him to be shot by his own ally, discarding him as you sense another one running up towards you. In a quick flash your roughly grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you as you raised your knee to kick in in his private area as he then crouched down in pain, knocking him out with you foot kicking him upwards as he fell down to the ground unconsciously out. 

With 3 men out there were only 3 men left, all astonished by your fighting skills by never back down. All of them came at you now, leaving Kyungsoo alone as they forgot that he even existed as they were too focused on the true enemy, you.

You saw kicks, punches thrown at you at once but you were well focused at the time precision they have decided to throw their attacks on you, precisely dodging all their throws with your hands as you took the advantage to pivot your leg and extend your kick towards one of them, causing him to lose his balance leaving with you 2 men now, seeing a chance to seize you but losing their way in as you duck one of their throws, the man accidentally punching his friend in the face that left him knocked out. You smirked at the sight of his widen surprised face as you didn’t noticed the gun you held so tightly in your hand in the fight and shot in the shoulder, pushing him on to the floor in pain cursing to himself.

But the moment you turned around to Kyungsoo with a proud look on your face, you felt a gasp of air leaving your lungs that wiped that look on your face, a burning yet numb feeling you felt on your back as you feel to your knees on the concrete road. You heard Kyungsoo’s footsteps rushing to your side as he yelled your name out, also hearing someone’s chuckle behind you.

“You forgot about me, pet.” You tried to get up back the tremendous pain you felt in your back was too much for you, your vision getting blurry as blood was coming out of your back. You turned around to see him on the floor mangled in his blood, you mentally curse at yourself for being stupid as you realized that you didn’t pick up his gun you left on the ground was now in his blooded hand.

You felt Kyungsoo’s warm body near yours as he warmed a cloth around your body to apply pressure to the bloody wound before seeing his legs walking away from you and towards him, seeing the man in front of him hesitating to use his gun on him, trembling in his hand as he began to mutter that he was wrong and that Joo Won is the one he should take but you were Kyungsoo’s deadly laugh played in your ear from afar.

“Tell Jon Won to tell my parents they can never have it,” And with his final words spat in his face he kicked the gun out of his hand and out of his reach and stepped on his fingers as his bloody scream ranged in your ears. Kyungsoo then scurried along to your side and helped you get up, the pain hitting you back as you hiss and closed your eyes tightly. His touch and the smell was somewhat comforting as he lifted your body in his strong arms, his hand clasping your body as he walked back to his place.

-

“Agh..” You winced as he pulled out the bullet buried in your back, placing it on a clean napkin as he started to patch you up and you saw his hand reached out towards you with painkillers. You signed a quick thank you before taking the glass water waiting patiently on the coffee table and placing the painkillers on your tongue with your hand with your other hand placing the cold glass on your lips and gulping down the warm water, seeing Kyungsoo’s relaxed face now.

 “You shouldn’t have done that..” He mumbled to himself as he now sat next to you on the couch, his hand on top of yours. Usually those words never bothered you but it struck a twist of annoyance in your heart and you immediately stood up, facing his now shocked face with your eyebrows furrowed.

“It’s my goddamn job for Christ sake!” You lashed out and crossed your arms together when you saw his face twisted in anger and was now standing up with his face so close to yours.

“Do you realize that you could’ve died? You’re an idiot.” His last sentence took a hit at your heart and your tears began to well up but you weren’t going to let this bastard see it. You weren’t going to look weak and pathetic at his words and you definitely aren’t going to admit that his words hurt more than the bullet wound in your back. 

But it was too late as he already saw a glimpse of your face, the line that he crossed in your eyes and the line he secretly swore to never cross it but it was happening right before in his eyes as million thoughts raced in his mind. He reached for your hand but you instantly drew it back as you formed into a fist to remind you to really not saw your state right now as you looked back at him.

“(Y/N)-”

“It was either you or me that they were going to kill and you know damn well that I’ll do anything if it means to keep you safe Kyungsoo. God damnit I love you.”

You screamed on top of your lungs, those words that were hidden inside of you for so long were now out in the open. His eyes were now like saucepans, his ears catching on but he couldn’t say a word as you already ran out of the living room and rushed towards upstairs and into your room, not bothering to close the door as you let your body fall on the bed and finally let the tears fall down.

You couldn’t believe it. You said those words but it was too late to take it back. Was he going to fire you? Let you off?

You heard someone knocking on your door, turning around to see Kyungsoo’s guilty face but you were too upset to say anything and turned your attention on the soft covers. He signed and took a few seconds before filling the space in your room.

“You make it so hard for me to not love you (Y/N).”

Your heart stops.

You held in your breath as he said those exact words out of his lips. You prayed to god that he can’t hear your heartbeat as you now felt his hand caressing your back, the touch you desperately ache for so long.

“I want to protect you in my arms and but I’m a coward. I can’t even fight, let alone lend off a few guys. I’m so scared that every time you leave even just for a second because I don’t know if you’re to be like everyone who has left me in my life. You’re all I have and I hate that I’m so selfish. I’m sorr-”

You cut him off with your lips when you stood up, feeling the pent up frustration you had pushed deep is now regaining confidence to release it. He was in shock but was soon replaced with his soft lips moving against yours, his hands capturing your face as he deepens the kiss. You let him take control as he was now on top of you, your back resting against the sheets. You spread your legs and he moves in to close the space between you and him with his lower body placed on your core, his mouth swallowing your moans as he grinds on you while his hands are now aggressively kneading your ass. When he pulled his lips from yours, leaving a line of saliva you whined, grabbing his tie you tightly in your grip.

“Be as loud as you want baby girl.” You shivered at his words, feeling your pussy getting wetter as you saw that look on his face, the look of a predator finally getting the prey. He took his long slim fingers and grab the end of your tank top, you lifted your body a bit so he can get it off of you, throwing it across the room as he continued to plant his pillow lips on the valley of your breast. You let out a small gasp when you felt his mouth latched onto one of your breast, his soft and wet tongue playing with your hard nipple as he used his other free hand to massage on your other breast. You put your fingers in his hair, messing it in the process as you couldn’t stop slipping out your breathy moans as he attacked your breasts with his lips you thought you would never got to taste for once in your life.

“K-Kyungsoo- Ah!” His fingers were sliding inside of you now, his eyes lovingly looking into yours as he continued to torture you sweetly by going slow, your hips buckling up as you felt the pleasure blossoming inside your core.  You begged for more and the mental image that Kyungsoo saw with his own eyes wanted more of it too. Your face flushed red, messy hair, and your body screaming to be touched by him made all the more reasons to give you more pleasure. He took off your sweatpants off along with your black panties, revealing your dripping wet pussy to him that shined in the dim lights in your room.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as you never had anyone intimately stare at you like that, especially when you’re fully naked right in front of a fully clothed man who you didn’t know wanted this as much as you did. You put your hand over you pussy but he caught your hand before you got cover it.

“Don’t. You look so beautiful (Y/N) don’t be embarrassed.” You nodded, red dusting on your cheeks as you pulled back your shaky hands and rested them to the side, Kyungsoo dipping his mouth onto your cunt and you instantly grip the sheets so hard. This was ecstasy. The way he licked you and sucked on your clit was better than any other feeling you had experience. His tongue was exploring every part of your pussy, slipping his tongue in your hole every time you asked for more, begged for more of his tongue inside of you hole as you grabbed onto the locks of his dark hair.

“I’m gonna cum-!” You moan loudly as you came on his face, his tongue licking your juices until you were clean but his face was still wet with your juices but he wasn’t bothered but it was he wiped it off clean. You lifted your body up to get rid of the suit he had on him, till you reached his fancy pants that showed his tight restrained bulge inside. When you grabbed his bulge inside you hand he let out a deep groan, his eyes shut tightly as you began to pull his zipper down to reveal his cock that was red and standing upwards, your mouth drooling at the sight.

You placed your bruised lips on the tip of his cock, the taste of his pre cum was salty but you liked it, teasing him as you never fully put him inside of your mouth but placed your wet kisses on around his cock, having his name on his lips sounding like heaven to your ears. After having enough of teasing you engulfed him in your mouth, his girth extending your mouth but it was comfortable enough for you as you proceed to use your hand to rub his thick length as you suck him off, his moans bouncing off the walls.

You continued to stroke him more now, your tongue delicately wrapping around his hard red cock with your cheeks hollowing in a sucking motion as you feel him about to come but you were soon pulled away, looking up with your hooded eyes as you saw Kyungsoo’s pouty face appear. You placed your hand on his sweaty chest, leaning in to his ear so close that he shivers at the touch of your lips grazing it softly.

“I want you to cum inside of me.” You didn’t have to ask twice as he pushed you gently on the bed, asking you if your wound was okay. You quickly nodded and waited for him patiently, his pants now gone and was now on top of you fully naked only for you to admire and touch.

He glided his cock on to your pussy, gently pushing you in and checking in if you were in pain or uncomfortable but it all came rushing down to the pit of your core, biting down your lips hard as he was fully inside of your dripping pussy. His slow thrusts inside of your walls made you legs tremble and shake as he reached his hand out to your breasts that was covered with his huge hand.

“Faster..Please.” You were crumbling the more you his thrusts snapped into your core, his breathing getting more erratic and your fingers were gripping on the bed sheets were the only thing that kept you in control, shutting your eyelids tightly as a knot was forming.

Just like that you both came together, his cum filling you up as he rides out both of yours guys high. It took a few minutes to regain your breath before you lifted your face to his and planted a kiss, his lips moving with yours as you were brought into a warm embrace in his strong arms throughout the starry night.

-

The smell of bacon and pancakes tickled your nostrils, bringing your hands into fists to rub your eyes and let out a loud yawn, noticing that Kyungsoo wasn’t beside you in bed but you knew it was him in the kitchen making breakfast. You jumped out of the bed and just got dressed in one of his shirts you had borrowed months ago but kept forgetting to give it to him along pairing it with a cute white lacy thong, the shirt was barely covering your ass but you liked it enough to keep it that way and made your way to the kitchen.

The smell of the food being deliciously made was getting stronger when you approach the kitchen, seeing Kyungsoo’s shirtless back with a pair of grey sweatpants along with his hair all messed up from you was definitely a sight you would love to see more.

“Hey.” You didn’t know that he noticed your presence in an instant, an angelic smile graced on his lips and you smiled back, taking a seat as he puts a plate full of food in front of you and places a small peck on your cheek causing you to blush like a red tomato.

The morning with Kyungsoo was fairly pleasant, the sounds of birds chirping and the news that he had time to take you out tonight was all good news that you made you genuinely felt the happening so wanted to cherish forever.

“I know we were both tired from..the actives last night but..” you giggled as you saw his ears getting red, his eyes not looking at you.

“Will you be my girlfriend (Y/N)?” You squealed and yelled out yes, standing up to walk over to where he sat across from you and hugged him, his scent so friendly and tender to your heart. Kyungsoo couldn’t resist a smile breaking out on his mouth as he hugged you tightly, his head resting on your shoulder.

As you guys finished cleaning the dishes together you saw something out of the corner of your eyes, a white envelope sitting out. Kyungsoo’s traced where your eyes were looking at and placed his hand on your shoulder, leaning into your ear where his hot breath hits you gently.

“My assistant said this was for you. She told me that two people approached her last night.” And with that information he left silently, leaving you anticipating who wanted you to have this envelope. Opening it up it was a simple written letter in black pen but you felt your heart instantly dropped when you saw the names of the owner.

Dear (Y/N),

Don’t forget that we exist. If your dad and I can make you, surely we can insure you that we can destroy every last bit of your existence. You can’t hide forever sweetie.

Yours Truly, Elizabeth (Same Last Name).

The letter dropped on the ground, your legs trembling in fear as you walked backwards in fear until you felt the cool fridge touch your back.

It can’t be.

Those nightmares.

That painting you saw that looked so similar to those pictures you kept when you were a child

Wondering who you were all this time.

You started at your hands that touched the letter at disgusted, the weight that was once on you was crushing you ten times more. You closed your eyes and slid down, crouching to get away from reality as much as possible.

She was going to get you.

But you weren’t going to back down, never.

And with that you stood up, hastily making your way to the gym to train as harder as you could with all your might. The painting that stood in Kyungsoo’s hallway that once made you feel the pain mentally was gone as you were ready for it, you know.

I’ll be waiting, mother.

-

A/N: hope you guys enjoy this :) next one is Kai and im vv excited to write his next !! please let me know what you think about this fic and hope you have a fantastic day/night.

[thedistantstorm]

Keep On Rising (Until The Sky Knows Your Name) 19

Found Family | Zavala is Tower Dad | Father-Daughter Relationship | Childhood Trauma and Recovery | Canon-Typical Violence | Amputation

A story about how an orphaned Amanda Holliday comes to belong in the Last Safe City and the family she finds along the way.

(Or, the story of how Commander Zavala finds himself responsible for one Amanda Holliday.)

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 [end]

This time: A new beginning.

-/

They are an inconspicuous combination, the Commander in slacks and a tunic, scarf over his head in accordance with city fashion, and the child in a t-shirt with matching sweatpants - something comfortable enough to move in, picked by Eva. Instead of his usual gait, Zavala walks far slower, knowing it would take three steps with her crutches to match his usual pace.

"The terrain changes ahead," He informs her in his calmest of tones. "The brick will be uneven. Let me know if you need a break."

She hums her acknowledgement, focused on getting herself to make as far as she can on foot, and Zavala, though noticing her discomfort, knows this is a lesson she’ll learn the hard way. When he sees the crutches quake he pauses, watching her wince as she continues, stubborn.

"We still have a bit to go," He tells her.

Ignoring that, he watches her take another handful of steps, stumble, and moves to save her from the pavement. If it were grass, and she were a bit more recovered, he’d have let her fall, but he does not want to take the chance with her so close to being cleared to come home. Shiori makes the child-sized crutches disappear before they hit the ground. The therapists had warned him before clearing her to go on this afternoon trip - a trial run, they called it - that she did not know her limitations, or if she did, she was purposefully ignoring them in lieu of pushing herself.

She sighs into his shirt, angry.

"You'll likely have blisters on your arms."

"Yeah," She grumbles.

"Part of recovering is learning your limits and respecting them," He advises, far more incognito with a child on his hip than walking beside her. It's clear she's frustrated with herself, though she eventually releases her tight grip on his clothes and rests her head against his shoulder. "You will learn when to push, and when to ease back. It will take time."

"'m not real patient," She admits in another exasperated huff.

He chuckles, smooth and low against her hair. "No, you're not," He agrees.

Zavala almost expects that she's fallen asleep after a few minutes of carrying her; he can feel her slight weight incrementally increase. Instead, she's simply relaxed, looking out at the Traveler looming in the distance where the sky meets the walls and the City. He turns, noticing when she starts craning her neck.

She drawls, "Can we watch the ships a while?"

Indulgently, he hums into her hair, "You are not in pain right now?"

"A li'l," She supposes. "But I'm usually sore."

 "We'll go the long way back," He decides, a compromise for them both.

"Y'don' mind?" She asks, bashful, resting her head on his shoulder once more.

"I don't get outside much," He admits. "I think we could both stand to see the sky."

It is strange to be in the Tower without being in full armor, or in charge of one small child instead of the entirety of its affairs. He feels almost like a voyeur, watching Guardians run about around the small influx of civilians who sell their wares or have a food-stand nearby.

It feels even stranger when a shadow looms over them from behind, eclipsing Zavala completely. Amanda curls into him, fight or flight senses triggered into something more like a freeze when her new guardian stops walking. He puts a hand on her crown, silently willing her to believe her that all is well before turning back toward his fellow Titan, careful to lead with the hip opposite the one he is carrying her on.

"Step back, Shaxx."

The shadow recedes. "You know word travels," He informs Zavala loudly. "Though half these miscreants wouldn't give you a second glance without the regalia."

Zavala releases Amanda's head, though he lowers his hand to her back. He can feel her heart thundering through the back of her ribcage. "That's the point," He tells the armor-wearing Crucible handler. "Is there something you need?"

"Not at all," He says. "Is this the girl?"

Said girl is clearly shy, wrapping her arms around Zavala's neck, breathing harshly against his collar. "Amanda, this is Shaxx."

She murmurs to Zavala, wary, "He's big," And Shaxx laughs, hearty and boisterous.

"He will not hurt you. He's a Guardian, too. And an old friend."

That spurs Amanda to act. The mop of blonde hair moves, the child leaning up and away from Zavala, brave but not about to let go. "Hi," She greets, looking up into an impassive helm.

Shaxx tilts his head. "Hello, Amanda," He returns, hands on his hips, loud enough that it forces a tremor through the girl. 

"Can he not hear very good? People yell when they have trouble hearing," She asks Zavala, not quite whispering herself.

Zavala laughs, carefully readjusting his hold on her. "No, Amanda, his hearing is perfectly fine. His listening skills are another thing entirely," He deadpans, quirking an eyebrow with a little dip of his eyes to the top of the child’s head. A reminder not to say anything inappropriate for little ears.

Amanda giggles at that, girlish and unbidden. It sounds like something the Matrons would say.

The one-horned Titan tilts his head to the side. "Oh, this is trouble," He says, but there's no malice in his tone, only glee. "You understand his sense of humor."

"Do people not?" Amanda's nose scrunches up in her confusion. "He's funny."

Shaxx chuckles. "Most, sadly, do not. But you are not most." He eyes the duo carefully - more enthusiastic than anything - before stepping back and waving toward the hall of Guardians. Of course, Zavala thinks. The Crucible could not go more than a match without him. “It was a pleasure meeting you, little lion,” Shaxx says to the child. “Make sure he brings you around.”

“Why a lion?” Amanda asks.

Shiori flits into the space in front of them. “That sentimental beast,” She chirps sharply, but it sounds more affectionate than anything. “A lion is-”

Zavala shakes his head. “She’ll figure it out on her own.”

-/

Just shy of two months to the day of the incident, Amanda is discharged from the hospital. She has a wealth of plans and treatments - almost as many as Zavala himself has meetings and engagements of his own. Recovery will be hard work. Supporting her in it, just as much. No matter. Zavala is committed to this. He will not shy away from his duty, both to the City and to his ward.

She refuses the wheelchair outright, intent on making it out of the hospital on crutches. Zavala appreciates her spirit and especially praises her for asking for help, a block later, when the walking becomes just a bit too much. She’s a quick learner, though he will have to watch. He does not want his every word to be law, well meaning though he is. She should learn and make her own decisions, to some extent.

"Home sweet home," Shiori calls as Zavala closes the door and lets it lock behind them. She transmats the tiny crutches back into being, propping them against the couch in a flicker of Light. 

"Yeah," The child says thickly in reply, allowing Zavala to set her down and hand them to her one at a time.

"Let's have a look around, hm?"

She nods. Zavala shows her the kitchen stocked with food - her tummy rumbles at the sight and she flushes, the little nook that was a dining area but has now become an office, the living room that houses a comfortable couch, modest screen and his knitting supplies in the corner. The washroom is next, down the hall, followed by a room he skips in lieu of showing her his own: full of deep, dark, soothing blues and yet spartan, save for a bookshelf.

Lastly, he lets her into her own room, lingering in the doorway when she carefully hobbles in.

Eva has outdone herself, it's clear by the awed expression Amanda wears, the tightness of her shoulders as she comes into the room. The once bare walls have pictures of different class ships with stylized shaders, the bed a subtle compliment with its themed sheets and comforter. Across the bottom half of the bed is her freshly laundered red blanket, ready and waiting for use.

"Do you like it?" He can't help but ask.

The girl takes a deep breath, hinging on a sob. "It's real nice," She says, overwhelmed. "Thank you."

"I would not thank me," He tells her, placing a palm between her shoulder blades to steady her. "My sense of style is a bit more minimalistic, as I'm sure you can tell. Eva had a field day designing this."

"Will she come 'n visit?” She asks, voice thick and eyes watery. “I gotta thank her, too, then."

"Don't worry. You will see her plenty. Why don't you investigate your desk and dresser? Eva guessed at much of it, but anything you need, we'll figure out together."

Together. Amanda likes the sound of that.

end.

. . .

. .

.

-/

PS: be on the look out for the sequel for this next month (Nov. 2019)! Thanks so much for reading!

[takingcourage]

Basking

Pairing: Jaime x MC

Word Count: 1,350

Summary: Arden’s in a flirty mood during movie night with Jaime and a lot of fluff and nonsense ensues. If you’re looking for plot here, you’ll be disappointed.

Note: As the gif may imply, this story makes reference to Bryan Fuller’s excellent Pushing Daisies. I don’t think it’s necessary to have watched the show in order to understand this piece, but I do heartily recommend it (especially if you’re a fan of quirky romcoms). 

Warm breath skimmed the tip of Arden's ear, fine hairs rising on the back of her neck when cool air returned to the delicate skin. Lids growing heavy, she allowed them to close for a few moments, blocking out the sight of credits revolving over the screen.

Her cheek rose and fell along with Jaime’s even breathing, and she smiled into the wrinkles of his shirt, inhaling deeply of the scent of cedar and musk. When she'd first arrived at the house, he’d apologized for not having had time to shower before dinner, though she hadn’t exactly minded. Sooner or later, she'd have to admit that the lingering smells of his workshop weren't exactly a turn off.

If it had been two months before, he would have just showered and not given a second thought to her presence in the next room. Now, the once-accustomed action had become something of a taboo. Arden flexed the fingers that were flush against his skin, exploring the smooth ridges of his ribcage. It was like he'd forgotten that she'd seen him next-to-naked plenty of times before. Like he wasn't counting on her seeing him absolutely naked in the future.

You're not getting rid of me that easily, Jaime Lewis.

Arden still wasn’t completely sure what she wanted, outside of wanting him. She knew he was in it for the long haul: marriage, kids, retiring together someday -- all of that. As tempting as all those things sounded to her, she wasn’t ready to commit just yet. 

A string of college boyfriends had taught her that she tended to jump into relationships too quickly, and the stakes this time around had her overthinking everything. But Jaime was never going to rush her. He’d borne the burden of consoling her after the burnout of her last relationship, so he was as wary as she was of moving too quickly. More wary, in fact. 

A little too wary, she mouthed the words against his shirt, her whole body warming pleasantly at the thought of what it would be like when they were able to leave all that caution behind. 

But for now, she was content right where they were. Well, most of her was content. 

A tension had settled in her left shoulder, chilling her bicep as it moved down through the rest of the limb. Before she had a chance to react, the tingling had already started. 

She opened one eye, weighing her options with a glance toward the clock. Could she extract the arm without waking him? He was a heavy sleeper, yet  her chances still seemed unlikely. 

Besides, the rest of her was too content to move. Resigning herself to partial discomfort, she shifted her weight just a bit in hopes of relieving some of the pressure before the entire arm fell asleep. 

If this lounging position became a regular part of movie night, she was going to need to sort out exactly where to put her left arm. The current arrangement of wedging it down between Jaime's side and the couch just wasn't working out, comfortable as it had been when they’d started. 

The fuzz was beginning to creep into her neck when she felt him stir beneath her, woken by the opening narration of the next episode of Pushing Daisies. Arden tugged the ailing hand from its unnatural posture, lifting her face in time to see his beautiful eyes flutter open. 

"Sorry," he offered with a yawn, bringing a hand up to comb through the hair on his forehead. "Didn't mean to fall asleep." 

"As it turns out, you make a pretty comfortable bed. I’d leave you a 5-star rating on Trip Advisor.” His cheeks, already flushed from sleep, grew even pinker at the suggestion. Arden couldn’t resist pushing him just a bit further. “Besides, I don't mind you sleeping with me.” She nuzzled into his shoulder, left arm tucked securely at her side.

And I don't mind waking up with you. It's kind of amazing, actually. “You probably heard that, didn’t you?” Jaime chuckled as he felt her nod.  

She flattened her palm, skimming down his breastbone and around his side. Once she reached his shoulder blade, she pulled herself up to press a kiss to the curve of his jaw. "I think I'd like for you to do it more often."

Jaime groaned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders to tug her impossibly close. She sighed into him, savoring the contact. "You're making it pretty difficult to resist you, Arden,” he murmured against her hair. And I know you're doing it on purpose.

"Fine." Her arm sufficiently recovered, she sat up and extracted her other hand from underneath his shirt. 

"I would always regret it if I rushed you into anything."

"Kind of hard to rush into something when we’ve known each other since grade school..." But the smile behind her sass confirmed that it wasn’t a true complaint.

Jaime sat up straight, stifling another yawn as he cast a glance at the television. “I can’t believe I fell asleep. It’s one of my favorite shows.” 

“Remember when you used to hide behind the bookshelf so Paula didn’t know you were watching it with her? I know you like to portray that macho image, but your sappy side is nothing new.” Arden grabbed the popcorn bowl and burrowed deep into the cushions of his couch. 

“It’s a good show,” he defended mildly.

She held out the popcorn for him to take a handful. “I’m just here for the puns.”

“I should have known,” he considered with a shake of his head. “I think I felt like Ned back then. Desperately in love with the girl next door and unable to do anything about it.” 

“There’s only one problem with that,” Arden pointed out. “I’m pretty sure I’d be Ned in this scenario, what with us both basically being superheroes.” 

"Well, either way, we’re lucky your powers don't extend to raising corpses and potentially killing the living with a touch."

"Might be nice sometimes...” she mumbled around an unpopped kernel. 

Jaime gave her shoulder a light shove, and she used the momentum to settle back against his side. 

Smooth, Arden. 

Peering up through her lashes, she showed him an innocent smile. His eyes narrowed, but he still wrapped an arm around her shoulder. 

"Really though,” he said, ignoring the interruption, “reading minds seems pretty innocent in comparison."

"You might not think that if you'd had to sit by June all day and listen to her thinking about her love life. I don't know how the woman gets any work done at all."

"Yeah? And how much time does the formidable Arden Gale spend thinking about her hunky boyfriend? Hours? Days?" Because I basically think about you all the time. 

"My work gets done,” she evaded, stomach flipping at his unspoken words. 

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t sound convinced. 

"But I think you’re really missing the point here,” Arden suggested, leaning out of his embrace momentarily to put the popcorn bowl back on the table. “You know the main reason I’m grateful to be Arden the Reporter instead of Ned the Pie-maker?"

"Because you get to eat fruit without it turning to mold in your mouth?"

"Ewwww," her thin, straight nose shriveled in disgust. "That isn't what I was thinking, but it's a fair point."

"What were you thinking then?"

"That I can do this without it killing you.” Arden jabbed his tanned arm with a decisive finger. 

His eyebrows wavered with amusement. “You can poke me? That’s what has you so excited?” 

“Not quite.” She shifted again, tossing one leg over his lap to straddle him. Beneath her, Jaime’s eyes flashed dark with desire as his hands found their place on her hips. Arden trailed her hands across his broad shoulders, winding them behind his neck as she pulled in for a kiss. Lips still a breath away, she whispered, “Because I can touch you.”

“I thought you were trying not to kill me, Arden.” 

“I make no promises,” she answered before closing the distance between their lips.