#either because we were young and didn’t know any better

[female-david-tennant]

Stresses me out how much ppl are like “OmG?!?! Dan and Phil knew about X post??” Or say they must have looked back on it recently or else how would they remember?

Bro. I think you fundamentally misunderstand them and the Internet parasocial relationship we have/had with them. They knew. They always knew. And I don’t want to put words in anyone’s mouths here, but it HURT them. Also. They’re not stupid. Y’all always think you’re so clever and sneaky.

I was there, at one point at like age 13, I grew as a person, forgiven myself, learned.

we’ve been invited back in so use your head and treat them with kindness, respect, and dignity. There is a way to interact, create, and bond while still doing that.

That being said, there was a lot of good to come from that circle, and we have a chance to cultivate it. Do that.

[inuyashaluver]

Are we getting any Ona x reader Childhood sweetheart??

mi media naranja (my better half) - ona batlle

ona batlle x reader

description: in which you and your childhood friend watch each other grow up, going through different partners, life stages and miraculously ending up in a surprising result

warnings: it’s a long one - buckle up!! catalan in bold italics, mentions of cheating and tears

a/n: hiya, lovey! i hope you don’t mind that i tweaked this into a childhood friends to lovers situation, i really hope you enjoy❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your best friend, ona, were the epitome of inseperable. your special bond was formed by years of shared laughter, inside jokes, secrets and late night conversations that stood the test of time.

you and ona knew each other better than anyone, the years of being best friends proving soulmates existed.

at first you both believed it was platonic soulmates but as the seasons and years went by, so did your dynamic, unbeknownst to either of you at the time.

it began through the subtle shift in stolen glances and unspoken words and conversations lingering in the air, something felt different for both of you.

little did you both know, the journey and progression from being best friends formed the very foundation of your relationship in the present.

—

[ 7 years old ]

it all started in school, a young ona experimentally kicking a football to a lonely you to test out the waters during lunch break.

in the beginning, you were incredibly shy, finding it hard to make friends at the time. her kindness made your heart warm and when you kicked the ball back, you both knew the other would be in your lives forever.

she came up to you and managed to get you to open up, she was pleasantly surprised to find out that you were quite chatty when you talked about something you were interested in. she loved it.

she’d listen to your words intently, each word engraving new lore about you in her mind, making an effort to remember as much about you as she could.

“one day, we’re gonna play together for spain and bring home a gold medal” ona promises, nudging your shoulder with hers as you both sat next to each other on the grass.

you laugh and nudge her back, nodding and holding your pinky up, she smiled cheekily and interlocked her own with yours, a promise you both intended to keep.

everyday at school, you and ona grew closer. your families were so happy with the fact that you’d made a friend so close, both of you at each other’s houses every other day. it just felt right for the both of you and everyone around you.

—

[ 12 years old ]

you and ona were joined at the hip, not even an exaggeration, you were never apart. you and ona had promised each other that wherever the other would go, you would follow in suit.

it was a non verbal promise but something that was just understood between the two of you.

you and ona had been scouted in your local club to join the youth barcelona team, both of you squealing and jumping around on her bed when you both discussed the situation. however, promptly scolded by ona’s mum that had you both in a fit of giggles.

because the two of you played together so often, each other’s playing styles were very much adapted into your own.

ona was a defender while you played in the midfield, the two of you always linking up to score a goal or an assist.

you both didn’t even need to look at each other to know where to pass or aim, the presence of one another being enough to score goals that had people impressed by your performances.

you and ona thrived in the barcelona team, labelled a dynamic duo by not only your coaches and teammates, but the spectators also.

—

wordless communication and care were the foundations of your friendship. the needs and requirements for the other person just feeling like common sense.

“you didn’t rub it in properly” ona laughs, pointing at the streaks on sunscreen left on the skin of your face.

“in case you didn’t notice, onita, i don’t exactly have a mirror” you grumble, attempting to rub the rest of the sunscreen but missing completely, making the brunette laugh even more.

“oh, preciosa (precious)” she teases, roughly rubbing the remnants into your skin causing you to groan and attempt to push her away.

“done” she cheeses out, giving your cheek a light pat before you shove her away jokingly. “you suck,” you stick your tongue out at her and she immediately returns the gesture, making you both give each other challenging glares before giggling with each other.

—

“my house or yours?” ona grins, passing you your water after training. “mhm, let’s go to yours” you smile back at her, she nods and you both chat as normal.

as soon as you got to ona’s, she gave you some of her clothes to change into and you immediately called your family to let them know you’re here and they already knew you’d ask to stay over so they agreed instantly.

you throw ona a thumbs up as she watches you converse on the phone and she pumps her fist in celebration, making you giggle before ending the call.

—

[ 17 years old ]

this was a difficult time for the both of you, it was when you both started exploring the dating world with other people.

ona got into a relationship first with this random girl, she was super nice at first, but when ona would spend time with you, she would get into insane arguments with her, her girlfriend claiming ona cared more about you than her.

and because it was her first girlfriend, she pulled back from you and you only really saw each other at training, and even then, the communication was limited.

you were heartbroken to say the least, losing your best friend over a girl, you decided to give ona a taste of her own medicine and began dating this girl you thought was really nice.

she treated you well, like a princess honestly, you were giddy and all round happier and ona, from a distance was happy for you.

she’d broken up with her girlfriend and she didn’t, well..couldn’t tell you since she rarely saw you. she regretted the whole relationship, it was toxic and manipulative and she wished she never ditched you for her.

but you were happy again and she would never jeopardise that for you. the only thing ona wanted for you was an endless amount of happiness, getting all the love that you deserved.

it was until you found out your girlfriend had cheated on you, coincidentally with ona’s ex that everything fell back into place.

with tears pooling in your eyes, you knocked on the door of the batlle residence with anxiety overtaking your entire body.

ona opened the door with a worried and confused expression, looking down at your kicked puppy expression that was ready to break down at any moment.

“nena? (babe)” she breathes out, a sob escapes from the back of your throat and you rush to wrap your arms around her neck, pressing your face into her collarbone as your body wracked with a heart wrenching sob.

she immediately holds you around your waist, rubbing comforting circles over the shirt you were wearing, saying nothing but just holding you close.

she tries to pull away to look at you but you shake your head and hold her tighter, she frowns at the sounds of your crying, lifting you up by your thighs and hoisting you up on her waist.

she hurriedly closes the door and rushes to her room, sitting on the edge of the bed as you cried into her arms. she whispers sweet words in your ear as you pressed into her.

you hug for a couple of minutes until you pull away, wiping your tears away with the back of your hands as you looked down at her,

“i didn’t know where else to go” you sniff, your nose red and your voice slightly congested. she frowns at you, using the pad of her finger to wipe away the tear rolling down your cheek.

“you came to the right place, this is your home too, i’ve missed you so much” she says softly, making a few more tears leave your eyes while she chokes back on her own. it felt like so much time but no time had passed as you explained the situation.

ona was pissed, making an effort the next day to give both of your now ex girlfriends a piece of her mind.

that’s when you both decided to take a break with dating, focusing on yourselves, football and each other. everything was back to normal and you were both incredibly relieved.

—

[ 18 - 21 years old ]

as the years went by, you and ona only grew closer, you noticed the shift in your dynamic. the lingering stares and touching blurring the line between platonic and romantic.

you tried to think nothing of it, ona was always incredibly affectionate and if anything she was just being friendly.

if only you knew how this girl really felt about you. in love was an understatement but she didn’t and couldn’t say anything, respecting you more than anyone in the world.

she wouldn’t want to risk losing you, her best friend, her soulmate.

it didn’t really help that you both followed each other to every club, barcelona, madrid, levante and even making the big jump to manchester united.

the best friend duo left an imprint on every club you both went to, proving to be unstoppable in every league.

you were both so in tune and synchronised, ona even managed to assist you in a hat trick at manchester united, claiming it to be one of her proudest moments.

she’d hoist you up on her waist in celebration as she kisses your cheek repeatedly as the girls surrounded you in celebration. “mi niña (my girl)” she grins up at you.

you kiss her forehead in appreciation and couldn’t help but grow a little warm at the pet name, as well as the way she was looking at you as if you were the reason the run had risen in the morning. (she truly believed this)

sure you both got asked over the years if the two of you were dating and it slightly hurt to shut it down.

you received numerous questioning expressions when you’d say, “no, we’re best friends” but the two of you chose to ignore. you both didn’t like each other like that. (silly)

—

[ 24 years old ]

it was until you both decided to return home that everything took a turn. your comeback to barcelona as the dynamic duo had been highly anticipated ever since the transfer rumours came out. and when the contracts were finalised and you and ona were promoted together, it went viral.

falling back into the team with new and old teammates was fluid, and exciting. you both felt good about the whole situation, excited for the new chapter ahead.

ona had partnered up with aitana for training because alexia had dragged you away as soon as she could.

“you like her” she teased, your eyes widen and you give her a little slap on the shoulder, “no, i don’t” you grit out, making your captain laugh brightly.

“please don’t tell me you’re this stupid, have you seen how that girl looks at you?” she scoffs, “heart eyes, makes me feel sick” she mocks, you can’t help the little smile hinting at your lips and alexia smiles satisfied.

she prys the details from you and you surprisingly complied. alexia helped you realised that you’ve liked ona for a while, just never coming to terms with it.

you felt lighter after all of it was off your shoulders, thanking alexia for slapping some sense into you.

she humbly accepted as long as she was the maid of honour at your wedding, making you swear on your life that it would happen.

—

ona had also been in her own conversation with aitana. being one of your teammates for years as well as a close friend, she knew ona liked you, she always has.

she would beg ona to confess, knowing that you liked her back because it was just obvious to anyone with a pulse. she’d always shut down the thoughts quickly. but this time, she actually listened to aitana.

“ona, that girl is in love with you and if she isn’t, you can slap me in the face” aitana speaks with her hands, making ona follow the movements as she spoke.

“you’d actually let me slap you in the face?” ona laughs, aitana gives her a stern expression and ona stops, glancing your way to see you laughing with alexia. she smiles at your bright smile, making aitana shake her head and whisking she had her phone to capture the moment.

—

it was a team bonding session at alexia’s house, a dinner, movie, drinks type of situation. ona and you lived together, like always, so ona drove you both over. alexia opened the door with a hopeful smile but faltered slightly at the two of you just being friends when you gave her that little look of disappointment.

she gives you a longer hug than ona and it makes her slightly suspicious, she knew you and alexia were like sisters but she couldn’t help the funny feeling bubbling in her stomach.

she’d glare slightly whenever you and alexia would interact and it made alexia laugh, knowing that tomorrow you’d come to training with a girlfriend.

when you got in the car and saw ona gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned pale, you glance at her in worry.

“are you okay?” you ask nervously, she looks over at you for a split second before looking back in front. “i’m fine” she says flatly, oh you were in for it.

the rest of the drive was intense and quiet. the tension was unbearable. when you both made it home, ona bolted to her room and slammed the door shut, making you wince. you gave her about an hour to cool off before you cautiously knocked on her door.

“ona?” you say softly, you open the door to see her on her bed just scrolling on her phone, she instinctively moves over so you lie down next to her, staring up at the ceiling as she refuses to look at you.

“have i done something wrong?” you break the silence, ona sighs heavily, “no” she breathes out, turning in her side to face you and prompting you to do the same.

“do you like alexia?” she asks softly, you gawk at her in shock, “what? no!” you exclaim, ona’s cheeks burn a little, looking down to see your hand resting on the bed close to hers.

“why? are you worried?” you tease, ona bores her eyes into yours, “and if i was?” she says full of confidence, your mouth falls open slightly, just blinking as you looked at her in surprise.

both of you are pink cheeked with wide pupils, resembling a full moon. “what do you mean?” you utter, “nenita (babe) you know what i mean” ona says hopefully, you pause for a moment before nodding, your bodies subconsciously moving closer to one another like a magnetic field.

“te amo (i love you)” you say confidently, making the girl in front of you break out into a bright smile, “te amo (i love you)” she parrots, you break out into your own wide smile.

you look at each other lovingly for a moment before ona brings a hand up to cup your face, she glances down at your lips and you inhale eagerly, making her chuckle before she pulled you into a searing kiss.

time seemed to pause at this moment, just the warmth of your breaths and lips mingling unfolding like a gentle melody.

your lips moved tenderly with each other, unlocking the years of whispered promises of love you both never knew you were hoping for. your tongues explored each others mouths and it all felt two familiar, you were soulmates after all.

in that shared moment, the line between friendship and romance faded completely, leaving behind the gentle lull of your now joined heartbeats, the start of forever for the both of you.

—

when you both walked into training the next day with ona’s hand in the small of your back and a gentle kiss to your temple, the room erupted into cheers.

alexia and aitana exchange a high five, a couple of the girls exchanging money making you both laugh brightly at some of the disappointed but happy expressions in the room.

—

when you both went to the world cup and managed to win through a goal from you, ona proclaimed your love then and there, unable to hold it in anymore.

when she pulled you into a loving kiss after that final whistle blew, it was a special moment for tje both of you. especially since you were both fulfilling that promise of bringing home that gold medal.

you and ona’s friendship stood as a witness to the growth and transformation for the both of you. standing as a testament of love that began with the simplicity of a girl kicking a football to you because she thought you looked lonely, forming into a profound and everlasting connection.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you!!

liked by alexiaputellas and 44,232 others

ona.batlle: mi media naranja (my better half)

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yourname: mi onita xx

yourname: mi media naranja (my better half)

↳ ona.batlle: pretty baby

alexiaputellas: you two would be NOTHING without me

↳ aitanabonmati: and me!!

↳ ona.batlle: all you two did was make fun of us

↳ alexiaputellas: worked though, didn’t it?

↳ ona.batlle: …….

↳ yourname: she said thank you!

context!! - mi media naranja: the literal translation is 'to find your half orange. ' when an orange is cut in half, the two halves match each other perfectly, but no other orange half is likely to fit so closely’ essentially meaning - your better half, your soulmate

[miguelhugger2099]

Hiii, I’m in love with your writing it’s a comfort for me atp. Could you please do grumpy reader where she doesn’t talk to others a lot. That makes Miguel look like an extrovert (even though we both know that’s not true 😭). Happy Easter 🐣 and or any holiday you celebrate.

Two Peas in a Pod

c.....comfort,,,,, sad hamster meme the highest honor i could ever get omg thank you i really liked this ask because its basically me haha my friend actually told me ive gotten better at being more welcoming and "nice" and another friend would tell me that i could never mask my uncomfortableness if someone was bothering me LMFAO but as alwayyssssss i can rewrite this request for u if ur not satisfied :) Art: nellwhre17 on instagram

Spider-People were supposed to be funny and outgoing. It was in their canon to have some resemblance to the original quippy and humorous Spider-Man. If not outgoing then at least a little endearing and sweet.

So the Spider Society is a little thrown off when you’re introduced to the team by Miguel. Both of your arms are crossed, your face blank and looking over other Spiders with neutrality. 

“Here’s our new recruit. She’ll be working more with Margo and Lyla. Think of her as one of your superiors like myself or Jess or Peter B.” Miguel tilts his head at all the other Spiders. “That’s all. Dismissed.”

He turns to face back to his console, returning to work on new files Lyla had presented to him. Some Spiders stay to chat with you. They don’t notice the slight discomfort and annoyance in your face.

“Hey! My name is Peter M! I think we might be the same age!” One says, his mask squinting to look like he’s smiling.

“Have you gone on a mission yet? What Earth are you from?”

“Has Miguel explained The Canon to you yet? It’s a little overwhelming, I know.”

The commotion irks you a bit, the Spiders coming into your personal space so you shuffle away and your brows instinctively scrunch together. “No, I’m fine.” You mutter curtly. The others finally see the change in your demeanor and they awkwardly step back.

Miguel turns over to see the few Spiders around and barks at them to stop. “She’s still new to all this so don’t go around pestering her.” 

They smile wearily up at him then at you, whose face is still contorted a bit in a way that looks like you’re obviously still being bothered. 

They get the message and wave goodbye to you but not without feeling a chill down their spine at how cold you were. Maybe you were just shy. Everything is and always will be overwhelming around here with different variants of yourself. So, they believed in time you’d come around like the others.

You, in fact, did not come around. After weeks, months even, you still came in and left without a word. Get in and get out. You rarely engaged in conversation and if you were in a group, you’d keep to yourself. If someone tried to include you, you’d just say a few blunt words that didn’t move the conversation at all so there'd be an awkward standstill before moving on.

No matter what, no one knew anything else about you besides your name, you were a Spider-Woman and the name of your Earth.

Even the esteemed group of young SpiderLings couldn’t even get you to open up. Jess and Gwen had just come back from a mission, wanting to eat at the cafeteria before heading home. They had found seats beside Hobie and Pav who were just catching up together.

Pav had mentioned trying to talk to you once but his bright personality pushed you further and further away from him, your responses to his questions becoming more and more short and quick.

“I’ve never met such a complicated individual.” He pouts, crossing his arms on the table.

“Don’ bother me none. I don’ like someone tryin’ to bug me either.” Hobie scratches the back of his neck. 

“Would’ve thought they opened up by now.” Gwen brushed her hair out her face. “It’s like pulling teeth with her.”

“She just seems kinda grumpy sometimes…” Pav sighs resting his head in his arms. “Even more than Miguel which feels wrong.” 

“Yeah, at least Miguel snaps at you but she…kinda just sits there.” Gwen leans back with a weak smile. “Not really sure how to make conversation when she’s so quiet.”

“She just doesn’t feel like talking, guys. Go easy on her.” Jess rubs her temples. 

Their conversation is cut short when Miguel walks through the cafeteria, documents in hand and with you in tow. Speak of the Devil. 

“Jess, Gwen, I misremembered about giving you the reports of your last mission together. I also have the analysis for the next one on Earth—199B.” Miguel hands the reports to Jessica and she immediately skims through it. Gwen looks over her shoulder and gives you a smile.

“Hey, how’s it going?” She asks. 

You respond with a shrug and a nod. “Good.”

Gwen’s smile wavers, laughing nervously as the awkward silence. She expected some sort of greeting back. 

Miguel answers for you. “She’s been with me the whole day since Peter’s been busy at home.” Gwen looks to Miguel.

“And how about you, boss? Doin’—uh—doin’ good?”

Miguel sighs, crossing his arms. “Better now that Margo fixed what Hobie broke in the console room.”

Hobie tsks. “Did not. You’re jus’ blamin’ me ‘cause I’m the scapegoat around ‘ere. Tha’ it?” 

Miguel pulls up camera footage from his Gizmo, of Hobie pulling apart different motherboards and CPUs from the server and tucking them away in his pocket. “Is this not you?!”

Hobie squints at the footage and shrugs. “AI has truly come a long way, mate. Bettah check tha’ out.”

Gwen, Pav and Jessica laugh at the scene, giggling at the sheer anger on Miguel’s face and Hobies indifference. You watch with a soft smile up at Miguel but nothing else.

Miguel feels your hand on his forearm and he looks down at you. You nod your head to the side, signaling it’s time to go. He looks at the time on his watch and collects himself. 

“We’re gonna head out. Don’t bother us unless there’s an emergency and be alert for any sudden messages should I need to contact any of you for anomalies.” He turns and gives a small wave before leaving, you trailing behind him.

You don’t say much other than looking behind to give them a small nod and following beside Miguel.

The group watches as Miguel talks to you, relating information and talking your ear off about missions and the to-do for the day. You listen quietly, eyes held on his and nodding along.

They glance at each other and think they would’ve never seen a person more closed off than Miguel in their lifetime. Even less where it looks like he’s more talkative compared to you. What an odd pair. “I think she has opened up. Maybe just not with us.” Jess leans back with a smile.

[chloe-skywalker]

Give Them A Chance - Robb Stark

Robb x fem!reader Baratheon/Lannister

Warnings: GOT

Word count: 1,362

Summary: Robb and Y/n don’t know that their fathers plan to betroth them. But Ned has a reason for not telling. Will his reason work?

Authors Note: Takes place in like the first episode of season 1 Game Of Thrones. Like right after the whole “You got fat” lines.

Masterlist

Game Of Thrones Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Y/n watched the exchange between her father and his friend Ned Stark Warden of the North. It was very odd but she thought it was nice that they were such good friends that they still joked around with each other. She didn’t see her father act so freely like this often. It was a rare welcome sight.

“So I take it this is your oldest.” King Robert sighed looking at the eldest of Ned’s children with a scrutinizing gaze before breaking out into a smile.

“Yes, this is Robb.” Ned introduced his oldest son to his friend.

Robert slapped a hand on the young man’s shoulder, smiling widely. “You're a handsome young lad.”

Robb tried to contain his blushing that he was sure he was doing. “Thank you, your Grace.”

“You should meet my oldest. Y/n!” Robert called over his oldest daughter, but not before sparing a knowing glance to Ned. As Y/n came to stand next to her father, smiling politely at the Stark family before her. “This is my oldest. A year younger than you I believe.”

“Princess.” Robb bowed, before looking at the princess. She had caught his eye when she first entered Winterfell on horse back alongside her uncle. He could not deny she was gorgeous, and he couldn’t believe how fast he had started to fall for her.

“Mi’ Lord.” Y/n curtised, biting her cheek. Thus Robb Stark was by far one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. And she had seen a lot of people growing up in KingsLanding. She wondered if his personality was as nice as his looks.

“Would you like a tour of  Winterfell?” Robb asked, offering a way for them to talk and get to know each other a bit. He also was one of the most qualified people to show her around.

“I would love one.” She smiled. Looping her arm through his and the two young adults that in some ways are still kids went off exploring.

While the two went off getting to know each other and everyone else did God knows what, King Robert and Net Stark headed down to the crypts.

“Have you told your son?” Robert asked once they were done talking about Ned’s sister. The King was curious if his friend's son had offered to show his daughter around on his own or out of duty.

“Not yet.” Nod squinted, he didn’t like the idea of taking this choice from his son. But the other part, this was a good alliance, and you don’t deny a king.

“And why not?” Robert had told Ned of the idea to marry their oldest months ago. But to be fair he didn’t tell his daughter either.

“Because I wanted to give them a chance to fall in love before knowing they might be betrothed.” Ned explained his reasonsings, and even though Robert would never admit it he admired Ned’s heart and how he was trying to make this a better situation for their children. It was better than just throwing them together.

“Very well. I didn’t tell my daughter either. She would’ve fought me on coming.” He chuckled. Y/n would’ve tried to fight him or talk him out of it, and it might’ve worked even the slightest. Out of all his children she was the only one that had a somewhat relationship with him.

“They’d be more reluctant if they knew about what we had planned. The two of them being in the dark might lead to them actually gaining feelings for the other.” Ned just hoped that the two would get close and at least see they could make a marriage work. But he was truly hoping that maybe they could fall in love on their own and there wouldn’t be any hard feelings or reluctantness.

^     ^     ^

It had been a few weeks and things seemed to be working out for Y/n and Robb like Ned had hopped. Y/n seemed to fit right into the Stark family. She got along with all his children and they all act as if she’s one of them. Things between Robb and Y/n had taken some people by surprise. The two had been spending almost all their time together. They only separated to sleep it seemed like.

Ned was happy to see they had a lot in common. The two went horseback riding constantly and Y/n seemed to know how to use a bow and a sword no doubt thanks to her uncle. They didn’t even eat apart at meals.

Today Robb and Y/n had gone out riding, once they were far enough away from Winterfell the two dismounted their respective horses walking along next to each other.

“Are you having a good time in Winterfell Princess Y/n?” Robb asked, hoping that the time they’d spent together had been as enjoyable for her as it was for him.

Y/n smiled, nudging him teasingly shoulder to shoulder. “Yes, I am as matter of fact. My favorite part is the company.”

Robb blushed looking down before looking back to her. Robb had no idea why she could so easily make him react like that, but she could and he didn’t mind it. “You flatter me y/n.”

“You’ve been flattering me the whole time I’ve been here. It’s only fair.” Y/n smiled. As they came to the set of trees that they had made their spot over the time she had been in the North.

Robb just stood there watching her for a moment. He never expected to fall in love with her when he first found out the King, Queen, and their children were coming to visit. But he had and he didn’t regret it. “If I may be bold and speak my mind, Princess?”

Y/n nodded, smiling back at him as she turned to face him. She noticed how he wasn’t right next to her and Y/n wondered what had made him stop and if it had to do with what was on his mind. “Go ahead. I won’t stop you.”

“During your time here in Winterfell I have become quite taken with you.” Robb stated walking over to her. He looked in her eye’s trying to notice how his works were being taken.

“And I you.” Y/n blushed, biting her lip at her response back to him admitting his feelings for her. Which she reciprocates.

“I have a proposal for you Princess Y/n Baratheon.” Robb felt an air of convenience hit him at Y/n admitting she feels the same.

Y/n furrowed her brow, it confused her on why he was using her title and first and last name. “Go on Lord Stark.”

Robb took a deep breath, he knew what he wanted he just hoped she wanted it to. “We may not have known each other for very long or very well for the most part. But I would like for us to get to know each other better over time. If you’d like that of course.”

“I would.” Y/n nodded liking where he was going with this so far.

“Would you  also like it if we could become husband and wife, Lord and Lady.” Robb stepped right up to her, reaching out to intertwine their hands. Looking into her eye’s Robb reached up with one hand leaving the other one still in hers, he cupped the side of her face, “Would you do me the great honor and become my wife? For all my days till the end of my days?”

Y/n reached up with her free hand and cupped the back of his neck, while squeezing his hand holding hers. Looking up into his eyes with what could only be happiness and adoration Y/n answered. “I would love to.”

In her short time visiting the North Y/n had really connected with the Starks and of course Robb the most. Yes, she’d miss her siblings (minus Joffrey) and she'd miss her uncles but this felt like the better place for her. And as long as she has Robb, Y/n will always be happy.

Taglist; @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld

@starkleila

[miniwheat77]

American Honey. (Alejandro X Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Sex Pollen, fuck or die, unprotected sex, reader getting bullied by Alejandro and his men, poorly translated Spanish, (sorry if I missed any)

I love the way this turned out, I hope you guys love it too! This was a request :) please comment and reblog so that this can reach other places, Alejandro is too good to go unseen 🥵

(Not edited because I’m lazy.)

Truth be told, you weren’t the biggest fan of this place.

You’d been adopted as a child and your adoptive family loved Mexico, which is how you ended up here. It wasn’t always the safest, but they seemed to like it. It was difficult growing up in an English speaking household, school was difficult, the kids there were mean to you, and as you got older, it only got worse.

You decided to join the special forces in the hopes that you’d be tucked away in an office somewhere, as little interactions as possible. But it’s not how everything worked out. You were on the front lines.

Everyone had a cool call sign, or nickname.

But you? You were just Gringa. Nobody liked you, you were different and people didn’t like different. Especially not the special forces.

You ended up on Alejandro’s base by chance. He didn’t want to let you in, but because you were the most skilled out of a lineup, he had no choice. He picked fun at you too alongside everyone else. The only person that was even remotely nice to you was Rudy. He and his wife had you over for dinner a couple times, and he even called you by your name. It was nice when people were kind to you, because it didn’t happen very often.

On more than one occasion, a few of the women on base cornered you in the women’s barracks. It got so bad that you had to be separated. When you brought it up to Alejandro, he told you that you either had to deal with it, or be separate. Of course, when you were given your own room, it only ramped up the harassment you got on a daily basis. Jealous that you were getting special privileges. They found other ways around you not being in the same barracks.

Which is why you walked around with a black eye and a split lip almost every day.

You didn’t want to fight back. They were your people and you refused to lay a finger on your own. You just wished they thought the same. You had just sat down, water bottle in hand. You knew better than to get in line to eat first. They’d always push you to the back.

“Gringa. You have mail, in my office.” Alejandro nods. This was unusual, usually he’d just bring it to you. You stood up and followed after him. Despite the fact that he harassed you too, you always obeyed him. You did right by him even when he didn’t reciprocate. He sits down at his desk, sliding a box out of his drawer. “I need to see what’s inside, that’s why I brought you in here.” You nod your head, pulling out your pocket knife and cutting the box open. You open it up, there’s a small black bag inside along with a letter. You unfold the letter, reading the inside.

“Hi Honey, we miss you so much. We wanted to let you know we’ve been thinking about adoption once again, you’ll have to give us a call when you get the chance. Your real grandfather from America sent this for you along with a small card on the inside. We thought it was sweet because you’re our American Honey. We hope you have better luck than you’ve been having. Keep your head up and don’t let them get to you too much.

Love, mom and dad.”

You pull the black bag open, sliding the contents into your hand. It’s a bunch of Honey Sticks. You smile, finally understanding the joke she’s made, American Honey. You take the card out that she mentioned and open it up. Inside is a photo of a woman, but you don’t really understand.

“Hello, I know you probably don’t know me, but I’ve always wanted to meet you. Your mother was a little young when she found out she was pregnant with you. She was a wild child, I’m sure you’re a wild child just like she was. I adored you from the day I met you, and when I found out your mom was giving you up, it shattered me. I hope I’ll get to meet you one day, I never did get the chance for anymore grandkids. You’re my only granddaughter. Here is some American Blueberry Honey from our farm, it’s all organic and it’s very sweet like I imagine you are. I’m writing this to you because your mom passed away unexpectedly. I felt you deserved to see her. I’m attaching a couple photos of her, and my address and phone number in case you ever want to call or write back. I’d really appreciate it if you did.”

You smile, looking down at the photos. For a minute, you forget where you are. You forget all about your Colonel’s judgmental eyes. You put the card back into the envelope, passing it to your Colonel. He has to look over everything. He doesn’t trust you.

You slide a couple of the honey sticks from the bag, looking over them.

“You were adopted Gringa?” He asks. You nod your head. He nods, “where were you born?” He asks. You shrug. “Somewhere in the states.”

He takes the bag from you, looking over it before passing it back to you. “Don’t forget we’re going on a mission tomorrow, everyone else needs rest from the last mission. You’re my only available soldier.” You nod your head. You always got left behind on missions. “Yes sir.” You stand up, picking up the box of stuff you’d just gotten. “Goodnight Gringa.” You nod your head. You were really starting to hate that fucking nickname.

—

The next day, you were dressed and ready. It was still early, you’d already eaten breakfast. You sat patiently outside of Alejandro’s office, waiting for his orders.

When the time came for you to leave, you finally got a breakdown of the mission.

“It’s nothing big, that’s why it’s just the two of us. Narcos have some other kind of operation going that we need to bust up, it’s probably only 5-6 men. We’re going to move slow, try to take them out from afar.” You nod your head. The both of you got on the helicopter, and it was quite a long ride. It was silent. Alejandro sat near the pilot and you sat in the back, admiring the view of the forest. It was dense. The green went on for miles. You couldn’t help but smile down at the peacefulness of it all.

“Something funny Gringa?” Alejandro asks. You can barely hear him, luckily the headset you’ve got on makes it easier. “No sir. Just admiring the views.” You turn your head back toward the window. You can hear Alejandro laugh quietly.

When you arrived a few miles away from the operation, you geared up completely. You had your sniper rifles, handguns, assault rifles, and plenty of ammo. You started hiking through the dense forest. Side by side. You were aware of your surroundings, ready for anything. You stayed calm despite the intense situation. You had a basic idea of what might be waiting for you, but you never knew what you could be walking into. Alejandro poked fun at you, but he actually really liked you. You were calm and collected. Fast on your feet. You were skilled when it came to any kind of combat. He knows he neglects you as a soldier. He sees the way they treat you around base and knows that he should intervene.

He doesn’t know exactly why he doesn’t.

When you get close enough to see everything going on, you get set up. Propping your rifles up to get a good view of all of them. “Shoot fast, Gringa. Can’t risk any of them getting away.” You nod your head, lining up your crosshairs with them.

You don’t wait for his orders, the moment one is lined up in your sights, you fire, kicking the empty bullet casing out of the gun and lining up for another shot. When the both of you finish, you’ve only killed 4. “Others must be in the building. Go ahead, I’ll cover you.” He nods. “Yes sir.” You stand up, leaving your rifle behind and drawing your assault rifle out. You hike down toward the building, keeping yourself covered with trees and walking as quietly as possible. It was a little difficult with the vegetation from the forest but you still did your best. Alejandro watches you in the scope of his rifle, watching ahead of you and around you. He hopes this mission will go smoothly. As you get closer to the building, he feels unsettled. “Go slow gringa, something doesn’t seem right.” He says into his radio. “Yes sir.” You reply. You slow your speed, eyes scanning everything in front of you. Your senses are heightened because you’re nervous, you’re sure you’ll hear anything.

Unfortunately for you, it’s too late. You hear the soft patter of something hitting the ground in front of you, and only have a split second to react, covering your face with your arms and stepping back as the grenade explodes.

Alejandro watches in horror as you’re thrown back, dirt and debris fly into the air, a cloud of smoke covering his vision. “Shit!” He growls. He stands up, rushing to get to you. He sees a few men appearing out of the tree line, firing at each them. He rushes to you, kneeling next to you. “Gringa?” He asks.

You don’t know where you are. The darkness is nice, but it only lasts for a few seconds before you hear Alejandro’s gunshots. You’re being shaken by him, but the ringing in your ears overrides everything else. “Gringa? Can you hear me?” He asks. He shakes you again, seeing your eyes move. “Hey, you’re going to be okay.” He breathes. He’s looking over you, he can see a few wounds from Shrapnel, but he doesn’t see them anywhere serious. “Y/N!” He snaps in your face. You close your eyes tightly. Sitting up. “I’m fine.” You breathe. He helps you up and you flinch at the loud ringing. It starts to fade as you look around. It’s quiet now.

As peaceful as it was on the helicopter.

When the ringing fades out completely, you wish you could just lay there, stare up at the sky and enjoy the peace for just a second. What you’d give for it.

“Come on. We have to keep moving.” He breathes.

You move in quickly to sweep the building, it’s an old cement building, but the inside is actually pretty nice. It has to be for how long everyone stays out here. Months on end, making whatever drug their boss tells them to. You notice a few bottles of something red. You can tell it isn’t blood because of the translucent consistency. But it’s odd. You make your way back outside, noticing the work stations are all full of the same red liquid. There a few large barrels of it sitting outside. “The hell is this?” You ask aloud.

Alejandro is standing near you, and neither of you expect to be splashed with the liquid. You flinch away, turning and raising your guns at your assailant.

His maniacal laughter is what really scares you. He’s got a gunshot wound on his side, he’s not going anywhere. He’s leaned up against the barrel, plastic cup in his hand. “Es una droga sexual. ¡Ahora ambos están infectados!” He laughs again.

Alejandro moves in quick, he’s seething. “What did he say?” You ask. The man looks at you, eyes wide. He’s got an evil smile on his face. “estas con una gringa? ella no sabe español?” He laughs. Alejandro shakes his head. “¿Cuál es la droga?!” He yells. You flinch away at his tone of voice. “Vas a tener que chingarte a tu gringa linda, dejarla embarazada.” He purrs. “¿Qué significa eso?” Alejandro growls. Grasping the man by the lapels and slamming him back into the barrel. “La cura es el sexo, no hay otra. Buena suerte hermano.” He smirks. His teeth are red from his blood.

“No eres hermano mío, solo un cobarde.” You flinch as Alejandro raises his pistol up, firing into the man’s head. His body slumps forward and Alejandro stands up, letting out a frustrated sigh. “What did he say? What is this?” You ask.

He rubs his face in frustration.

“It’s a sex drug.”

You look confused. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a sex drug, but it’s in the early stages of development, that’s why we’ve never heard of it before. He said..” he pauses. “If the infected doesn’t have sex, they’ll die.”

“And what he splashed on us.. was that-?” You look at him. He nods his head. You turn away from him. “There’s no other cure?” You ask. “No. Not something we’ll find in time.”

“Well. Suppose we should head back. Say our goodbye’s.”

His turns quickly to look at you. “What?” He asks.

You look at him. “What?”

“Y/N.. we can get through this if…” he swallows hard. You raise your eyebrows. “What? If what?” You cross your arms. Looking at him. “If I have sex with you? Are you out of your mind?” Alejandro’s assumptions have clearly stuck a nerve. “You’re loco if you think I want to have sex with you!”

“But you’d rather die? I’ll have to say Gringa, that’s pretty harsh.” He smiles. “That right there is exactly why I’d rather die.” You seethe. He looks confused. “My goddamn name is Y/N.” You growl. He steps closer to you. “Watch your tone with me.” He growls. “I’m going to die anyways.” You shake your head. “What, you’ll let us both die over me calling you Gringa? Really?” He breathes.

“It’s not just you.” You shake your head. “It’s everyone.” You voice is low and aggressive. “They call me gringa. I’m last to eat, last to shower, last to be chosen for missions. I haven’t had dinner in a week. They exclude me, treat me like shit. They corner me in the goddamn bathroom and beat the holy hell out of me. And my Colonel? The one who’s supposed to give a shit? Doesn’t say a word when he sees the bruises they’ve left. You had no right to call that man a coward. You’re the biggest coward I’ve ever met.” You spit your words at him like they’re laced with venom. Like they’ll drop him dead in a few seconds. He sighs. Everything you’ve said is true. He’s mistreated you.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes. “Querida…” he trails off. “I know I’ve been bad to you. But I can change it.” He breathes. “No.” You shake your head. “Make yourself comfortable because I’m not changing my mind.” You breathe. You shove passed him, walking into the building. You go into one of the rooms, sitting down on the bed. You take your shoes off, pulling the blanket off. Walking back outside. You walk into the woods a little more, laying the blanket out. “What are you doing?” He asks. “Enjoying the peace and quiet.” You breathe. He nods. “Mind if I join you?” He asks. You shrug. He sighs, sitting down next to you. You’re laying on your back, looking up at the sky. “Cloudy.” He mumbles. “Yeah. Hopefully it’ll rain.” You smile. “I like when you smile.” He laughs. “Why?” You look at him. “Because you don’t do it often. Earlier in the helicopter, I was admiring you.” He laughs. You roll your eyes. “Also, when you saw that letter from your family. I like their nickname for you, American Honey.” He smiles. You can’t help but laugh at this. “If this is you trying to get me to have sex with you, it’s not going to work. He rolls his eyes. “I can be a gentleman without the intention of trying to have sex with you, Mocosa.” He laughs. “I’m serious. Why do they call you that?” He smiles. “They said I was too sweet. As a kid I knew no stranger, so they called me American Honey.” You look down. “American Honey? I don’t think I’ve ever had any.” He shrugs. You think for a second, sighing.

You grasp hold of your pocket on your jacket, the Velcro making a tearing sound as you pull it open, you slide out a few of the honey sticks, passing one to him. “It’s blueberry honey.” You nod. He takes it from you. “You have to bite the top to split the film open.”

You bite the top of yours, feeling the honey drip into your mouth. You can’t help but smile as you watch Alejandro struggle to open his. You laugh. Reaching your hand out. “Here.” You say. He passes it to you and you turn it to the other side, biting it open for him. “Thank you.” He smiles. You can feel the effects of the drug beginning to kick in. You want to kick yourself for the way you’re looking at him. He’s getting more and more attractive by the minute. You hear a groan leave his lips. “This is really good.” He breathes. “It is really sweet.” He licks his fingers where it’s dribbled onto them. You have to force yourself to look away. The tightening in your lower stomach becoming harder and harder to ignore. “Here, have another.” You pass him the other. “Open it for me, Cariño?” He smiles. You nod. You bit it open, flinching as it pops into your mouth. Alejandro freezes up, having to force himself to look away from your lips, and how sweet they’re looking. He’s felt the drug working but has ignored the way his pants have gotten tight. He takes the stick of honey from you, and watches as you lay back.

The minutes tick by and his heart is racing, the arousal he feels is almost unbearable. You can barely focus on anything, his heavy breathing, the smell of him. It’s too much. “I’m sorry.” He breathes. “I’ve got to get away from you, or I won’t be able to stop myself.” He breathes. Just as he stands up, you’re quick to yelp. “Wait!” You breathe, sitting up. He turns to look at you, confusion written all over his face. You’ve shed your jacket and he didn’t realize it, but he can see how hard your nipples are through your shirt. “What?” He asks. “You.. you don’t have to.” You breathe. You’ve got your knees pressed together. Tightening your thighs to try and ease the ache you feel between them. He steps toward you, and he can see the fire burning in your eyes. You don’t move away or tell him to stop. “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod your head. He lowers himself to his knees, thankful for the blanket beneath him. He moves himself between your legs, licking his bottom lip as he leans into you. His lips brush over yours lightly. Hips presses into yours. He moans out when you rock your hips ip into him, desperate for some kind of relief. He presses his lips to yours, he kisses you hard.

He can taste the honey on your tongue, and he’s addicted right there. You moan into his lips when he rocks his hips into yours. He pulls away, but only to attach his lips to your jawline, moving down to your throat. He’s biting at the skin, feeling your heart beat as he runs his tongue along your jugular vein. He pulls your shirt up and over your head, helping you remove your bra with it. He attaches his lips to one of your nipples, sucking at it gently, feeling you buck your hips up into him. He can’t help smile into you. He doesn’t want to neglect you, moving to attach his lips to other. You wrap a hand in his hair, whining out at the attention he’s giving you. “Alejandro- want you so bad.” You breathe. “You’ll have me, ser paciente.” You nod your head. He kisses lower, over your chest and belly, tugging your pants down your legs. You take a deep breath as he glides his hands down your hips, kissing over your belly button. He looks up at you, dipping down to press a kiss against your clit. Cock twitching at the mewl you let out. You whine, raising your hips into him. Desperate for attention. He pushes your hips down, wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold you still. His tongue gliding up through your folds has a sigh leaving your lips. He moans into.

“Taste so fuckin sweet..” he mutters, chuckling into you. “You’ve got the perfect nickname, you’re just as fucking sweet.” He growls, burying his face into you, starting his assault on your clit. You blush, looking away. You try to squirm out of his grasp but he holds you tight. You clutch the blanket beneath you, moaning out as you look up at the sky. You can feel the sting from the shrapnel still buried in your skin, but you’re overwhelmed. The peacefulness and the way he makes you feel overrides any pain you’ve felt.

You’re getting louder with each flick of his tongue and he knows you’re getting close, but he doesn’t want you to cum like this. He pulls away, feeling you whine at the loss of friction. “Relax, I’ll give your pussy the attention it needs.” He smiles, unbuckling his belt.

He wipes his face, moving his hips up to yours. “You sure you want this?” He asks. You nod your head eagerly. He pushes the tip of his cock up against your entrance and you bite your lip. You close your eyes as he sinks into you, clutching the blankets hard. The pleasure is intensified from the drug you’ve taken and the both of you nearly cum right there, moaning out. “Fucking hell you feel good.” He growls, moving to kiss you. “You taste yourself on me? Hm?” He smirks, starting to thrust his hips into you. He’s starting at a brutal pace and you can’t keep it together as he fucks you.

“You taste sweet yeah? Sweeter than that honey.” He smiles. His belt rattles as he thrusts into you. The sound is distracting you. The thought of what it is, him fucking into you so good. You can’t keep it together. “I’m gonna cum-“ you whimper. “Already?” He chuckles. He’s taunting you. You nod your head. “Yes!” You moan. He lifts your thighs up, thrusting deeper, trying to get a better angle on you. “Rub your clit for me.” He breathes. You nod your head, still obeying him. You rub circles over yourself, and he fuels the burning fire with his words.

“Yes- such a good girl. Always doing what you’re told. Yeah, rub that sweet pussy for me baby.” He growls. He can feel his own high approaching pathetically fast. “I’m- I-“ he laughs at your lack of words, feeling your legs shake as he pushes you into your orgasm. You cry out, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes as you shut them tightly. You soak his cargo pants, and he growls as he feels your arousal on him. He doesn’t stop fucking you, even with you being overwhelmed. He’s chasing his own high. He leans down to kiss you again, desperate for the taste of sweetness he knows he’ll get from you. He kisses you hard, feeling your tongue move against his own. You moan into his lips, wrapping your legs around his back.

“Give it to me, Colonel.” You look him in the eyes. He growls, thrusting harder if it’s possible. “Beg for it.” He breathes. “Please-“ you gasp. “Please cum inside me, I’ve been good for you. Please give it to me!” You whine. His heart is pounding, cock twitching as he gets closer and closer to his high. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He gasps. “I’m gonna give it to you, Cariño. Trust me.” He groans. He has a death grip on your thighs. When he reaches his high, he’s sensitive before he even finishes. It’s the most intense orgasm he’s ever had by far. He holds your hips tightly into him, taking slow deep thrusts to ride out his high.

“Oh fuck-“ he gasps. He slides out of you, watching his filth spill out of your pussy. The relief you feel is immediate. Hearts are no longer racing. He lays next to you on the blanket, panting as he comes down from his high, looking up at the sky. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.” He breathes, looking at you. “You weren’t.” You blush.

Just then, your radio’s go off.

“Colonel, do you copy?”

“Colonel do you copy? Exfil is still about an hour out, it’s going to be dark soon.”

“We’re on our way.” He says into the radio.

He helps you up. You both redress yourselves quickly.

“We’ve got to make quick work of this, got a lighter?” He asks. You pass him the one you keep on you at all times and he picks up a stick, lighting it on fire. He throws it into a barrel of liquid and you both run away quickly.

The barrel explodes and the whole area around it bursts into flames. You both admire it for a second. “Let’s go.” He grasps your hand, pulling you along. He hands you back you lighter.

It doesn’t take too long to reach exfil, but the wetness you feel from Alejandro’s cum is a little uncomfortable and he can tell by the way you keep shifting yourself on the seat in the helicopter, sending you a wink every once in a while. You turn your head away from him each time, blushing.

—

When you get back, you go straight to the infirmary for your wounds to be treated from the explosion. While you’re recovering, Alejandro has a quick meeting with his soldiers.

“I want everyone to know that Y/N isn’t going anywhere. I want you all to treat her the same as you treat everyone else. She saved my life today and she didn’t have to. If I see anyone mistreating her from this moment forward, you will be discharged from my base. Do I make myself clear?” His voice is stern.

“Yes sir!” They all say in unison. “Thank you! Go back to eating.” He calls.

He makes his way to the infirmary to check on you. Unsure of what to do with these newfound feelings that he has for you, and what in the hell he’s supposed to do if you’re pregnant.

[maxislvt]

Hey!

can i request a one shot where Nat is a secret agent who's supposed to babysit r while collecting info on r's parents. r sneaks to a party and many incidents take place which show nat eventually starts getting possessive (smut too please!)

warnings: possessive behavior, smut, afab!reader, dom!natasha, fingering, edging

Natasha didn't believe in distractions.

Distractions were a sign of an untrained spy. Natasha only saw opportunities. It was easier to do when she was on missions that lasted a long time. If she played her cards right, anything could happen.

But you were different.

Natasha knew you were something different, but she couldn’t figure out exactly what. At first, she told herself you were just entertainment. She could play with your innocent little heart and tease you whenever she pleased. Maybe she'd squeeze some information out of you, but that was never a priority with you.

As innocent as you were, it seemed you had your methods of seduction.

You were helpless and Natasha felt almost obligated to keep you safe. All that whining whenever she disinfected the cut you got from your latest kitchen adventure and your excited little squeals whenever you saw something cute. But, you were still a young adult at heart, and that always left room for rebellion. It wasn't always bad or destructive. That rebellious spirit is what led to both of you saving a stray cat that you had affectionately labeled as your baby, but sometimes it was dangerous.

Now, Natasha had to chase you around the city because you decided to sneak out and go bar hopping with your friends. She foolishly assumed that it'd be one of those stupid late-night snack runs you and your friends liked to go on. But after a few too many pings from the phone tracker, Natasha realized what you were up to.

Bar hopping wasn't your style. If you were to come home tipsy, it'd probably be because you had too many glasses of wine at some fancy restaurant. You were just much too timid to be out at a club and taking shots from the first person who offered to buy you a few. You were incredibly too shy to make out with that same person in the corner.

It appeared Natasha didn't know you that well, because that's exactly what she caught you doing. The relief of finding you was immediately replaced with a bitterness Natasha hadn't felt in a long time. Watching that bumbling idiot try and shove their tongue down your throat made her skin crawl. You deserved better than that.

She slipped through the crowded room without any concern for the others. Natasha practically threw the girl off of you. "Text your friends, I'm taking you home." Her grip was unusually harsh for handling you, but she didn’t allow you to argue with her. Natasha ignored the curious stares and murmuring as she dragged you out of the club. She stopped in front of the car and finally turned to face you. “What do you think you’re doing? I look away for one second and then you run off and start whoring yourself out?!”

You were taken aback by how mean Natasha was being. She’d never talked to you like that. Between the shock and embarrassment bubbling under your skin, you couldn’t think of anything to say. You snatched your hand away and got in the back seat of the car.

The ride back home was painfully quiet. Both of you had a lot to say but were much too pissed off to speak. Natasha was mature enough to at least use the silence to help her calm down.

You brushed past Natasha once she unlocked the door to your parent's house.

"You know we have to talk about this." Natasha said as she locked the door. You were either drunk or loaded with sass at this point, but something was better than nothing. Though she didn't comment on the frustrated groan you let out, she decided it would be a great time to teach you a lesson.

You refused to sit down as Natasha grabbed a bottle of your father's favorite whiskey and two glasses. "I'm not drinking that crap." You grumbled. Your throat burned just thinking about it. All you wanted to do was shower and forget about the embarrassment you faced tonight. "Look, you already ruined my night out. Isn't that enough?"

Natasha sat down in the recliner with her leg spread. "You certainly didn't seem to mind it when blondie was buying it for you." She could only laugh at your poor attempt to look upset with her. When she realized you wouldn't sit down, she patted her lap. "What's all this about, hm? I know this isn't you."

You looked down at her lap then back up at her. "God, you're impossible." Nevertheless, you sat down. The way her arms wrapped around you made you feel safe. Natasha's hold was comforting. "I wanted to hang out with my friends like an adult, then you came in and caused a scene before taking me home against my will." You grumbled.

Natasha examined the expression on your face. Her own lips curled into a devious smirk. "Really, because I think it's a lot more than that." Her hands squeezed your hips before positioning you on her thigh. "I think someone has a little crush they don't know how to deal with it." She whispered in your ear before placing a kiss on your neck. "Now, you wanna act out in hopes of making me jealous." Her fingers slipped into your underwear without hesitation.

Your breath hitched in your throat. "That's not…you can't just- ah!" The protest was quickly cut off by a string of moans Natasha's fingers are much too skilled for you to really try fighting back. Not that you wanted to. "You're not being fair!" You whined softly.

Natasha rested her chin on your shoulder. "And it's fair for you to tease me like that? I didn't even know you owned clothes this tight." Her fingers curled just at the right angle to make you squirm. "I think it's only fair I have the upper hand for a bit." She pressed open mouth kisses along the column of your throat. If she wouldn't get in trouble for it, she would've gladly left more than a lipstick stain. "Are you about to cum already?" She asked with a knowing smirk.

There was no point in lying to her. Your legs were shaking and you could barely think. You'd be screaming if you knew your parents weren't home. "I- Yes, please just let me cum." You whispered desperately. Never had you been the one that needed permission. You had grown used to playfully bossing Natasha around, but now you were entirely at her mercy. "Please, I promise I won't sneak out again…"

Natasha coed at you. "I know you won't do that again." She said, "I wanted you to promise me that you won't run around letting other people touch you. That includes yourself." Her teeth latched on to your ear making you yelp.

You were going crazy. "Fine, fine! I just wanna cum please." Your body was practically buzzing. "It's coming, I'm cumming." You whimpered pathetically. The orgasm built into an unbelievably tight knot in your stomach and you were just ready for it to pop.

Then, Natasha pulled her fingers away.

"No, no, no, no!"

Natasha examined the slick dripping down her fingers. You were quite messy. She sucked the tangy liquid off her fingers as you complained. "Oh come on, you should know by now I don't go around rewarding bad behavior." She tapped your side, signaling you to stand up. "Maybe if you go back to being your obedient self I'll consider giving you a proper one."

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 ao3

When Robin and Eddie return to the trailer, Steve is still unconscious.

“Fuck, should we be worried that—how long can someone…?”

Eddie trails off, goes to check his watch reflexively before remembering that it’s stopped.

Robin shakes her head.

“This kinda thing happened, um. Before. I didn’t see much, but I… I don’t think… Billy Hargrove was completely—well. Steve had to, like, crash a car into him, and I, uh, sorta blacked out? For a bit of it? But he just walked it off, I think. Eventually. Billy, I mean. Like his body wasn’t fully… Like he didn’t really feel it.”

Eddie stares at her, reeling. A dozen thoughts scramble to be heard, many not helpful in the slightest—namely that Billy Hargrove stalked the basketball court like there was something seething within him every goddamn school day, so he can’t even imagine what that combined with the uncanny strength of The Mind Flayer would bring.

And the real major concern is—

“But Hargrove died.”

Robin looks up from where she’s been checking Steve’s head. Her fingertips are flecked with blood.

“He didn’t die from—he wasn’t killed by. By a person,” she says jerkily. “So we… we should be fine to…” She eyes the cistern lid, but her face drains of colour again.

Eddie exhales. “One problem at a time.”

He grabs Steve underneath the armpits, Robin holding his legs up.

They take him to the bedroom. Set him down, back leaning against the cabinet.

Eddie finds the handcuffs and gingerly attaches one end to a drawer handle, the other around Steve’s wrist.

Steve doesn’t even stir at the touch. His head lolls down unnaturally.

“They better not be the shitty plastic kind,” Robin says. “I’m not having him escape cause all you had was a Baby’s First Magic Set.”

Eddie’s startled into a weak chuckle.

“Excuse you, Buckley, these are the bona fide, genuine article.”

It had become a joke in the first place, actually keeping them. A year ago, maybe two. A girl from Loch Nora with a college boyfriend had either naively or intentionally thrown an open invite party—Eddie had only gone out of curiosity, wanting to see just how impressive the living space was.

He’d barely lasted an hour there, because a shithead of a ‘concerned’ neighbour called the cops on young people ‘loitering sinisterly’—as if their precious hydrangeas were in danger of being uprooted and sold.

Eddie got grouped in with a select lucky few accused of stealing. He hadn’t been, but he figured he might as well try and get something out of it. It was either Callahan’s wallet or his cuffs; Eddie picked the wrong pocket.

Now he thinks he actually lucked out, in a grim kind of way.

They take stock of everything they’ve got: lighter fluid; a couple space heaters discovered in the RV, another one found next to Wayne’s folding bed. A few bottles of alcohol along with cloths and spears. One walkie. Lighters.

Rope.

-

Nancy had left with Dustin in the RV. The plan had been for her to drop him off at the Creel House before returning to the Gate at the trailer.

But Eddie caught the steely glint in her eye as she readied herself in the driver’s seat.

Dustin sat by the table. He pinched his bottom lip between his fingers and tugged, harsh enough to draw blood. His hand was shaking.

Eddie couldn’t look at him.

He turned to Nancy.

“You’re not coming back,” he said in an undertone.

It was only once he’d spoken that he realised it didn’t come out as a question.

Nancy grabbed him by the wrist, pulled him close to whisper in his ear.

“Going to another Gate. Where Fred…”

Eddie understood: it was a last-minute change that she alone was in control of. One that Steve didn’t know.

And if Steve didn’t know, then…

The engine rumbled into life.

Eddie got out—had one last look, hand on the door. There were tanks of gasoline wedged behind Nancy’s seat.

Dread chilled him. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t be alone. That when she burned it all down, she needed someone to pull her back lest she get caught in the flames, too.

He didn’t say any of that.

Because Nancy just looked at him with something close to sympathy, as if she could tell everything he was thinking; it was already clear that whatever he said, it wouldn’t make a difference.

It didn’t stop him from trying.

“Nancy. Be careful.”

She nodded. “You too.”

Eddie shut the door behind him.

He was halfway back to the porch when he realised that the RV hadn’t pulled away. He heard the door opening again, began to turn, and was almost bowled over by the force of Dustin’s hug.

“Hey,” he said softly, once he’d caught his breath.

He ruffled Dustin’s hair and then stopped near the end of the motion, kept his hand there. Just held him.

He didn’t say it was okay, because it wasn’t.

Dustin sniffed. He pulled back and finally looked Eddie right in the eye.

“We’ll get him back,” Dustin said.

His voice wavered in the middle. But his determination was much stronger than the falter had been.

Eddie put his hands on Dustin’s shoulders. Nodded.

It was obvious that when it came to Steve Harrington, Dustin would go to the ends of the earth for him. And here he was, doing the hardest thing in the world: leaving Steve behind.

Compared to everyone else, Eddie thought, his job was simple, really. All he had to do was prove Dustin’s trust in him.

-

Steve’s face twitches when Robin shuts the window.

Eddie watches closely, holding his breath.

One eye opens, barely a slit. Moves sluggishly before finding Eddie.

“Hi,” Steve says.

He sounds… normal.

“Hi,” Eddie echoes cautiously. “Are you—um. Are you…?”

He trails off, feeling immensely stupid. What was he even gonna ask? Are you okay? Like he honestly was expecting Steve to say, Oh, could be better, but the malevolent entity inside me is a fucking bummer, man.

“How’re you feeling?” he settles on, because Steve still hasn’t moved, at least seems in control, and Eddie’ll take any semblance of normality he can get.

“M’okay,” Steve says, after a pause.

He lifts his head up slightly, notices the handcuffs. Gives a faint nod of approval. With his free hand, he gestures vaguely to the back of his skull.

“Feels… distant. I dunno.”

“Good, uh, that’s good,” Eddie says conversationally, like that will take away the reality of what he’s currently doing: tying Steve’s legs together with rope.

Both of Steve’s eyes open, his gaze turns sharper, calculating, and Eddie tenses—

“Eddie,” Steve drawls. He sounds supremely unimpressed. He shifts his legs and the knot Eddie made goes slack. “Tighter, dude.” “Oh, I’m sorry, not of all of us got our Scout’s badge.”

“Here,” Robin says. She nudges Eddie out of the way and binds Steve’s legs; the knots don’t budge. She gives a half smile. “At least Starcourt was educational.”

Steve laughs through his nose, but he grimaces a bit, like something Robin’s said is distasteful.

She puts a hand on his knee, peers at him. “Still here,” she says.

It isn’t a question, but Steve answers anyway. “Still here.”

Robin ties his free hand to another drawer handle.

Eddie catches a glimpse while he’s turning on the heaters, and his stomach twists—unbidden, thinks of Christ on the cross.

Steve nods at the heaters. “Put ‘em closer.”

Eddie does. He keeps waiting for a change, ready to leap back, but it doesn’t come. The only difference is that the pulse point in Steve’s neck starts to jump rapidly when the heaters are tilted towards him, but even that’s nothing like before, nothing like the frenzy in the bathroom.

Eddie puts his palm in front of one of the grilles. It’s only just been turned on, sure, but he can’t help thinking that it’s not nearly strong enough.

He stands in front of Steve, Robin by his side.

No-one moves.

Then Robin speaks out the side of her mouth. “Should you still…?”

Her fingers curl, palm up, and Eddie realises that she’s mimicking fret positions.

“Yeah,” Steve says before Eddie can answer, and Robin jumps. “Should still work.” His cuffed hand twitches. “S’in… Vecna. Me. Not enough… can’t control bats, too. Not—not all of ‘em at once.”

His throat clicks as he swallows, like the words are getting stuck.

“Should follow. Like… like, um.” His eyes widen for a split second, as if in panic, before he swallows again and says, a little clearer, “Pied Piper.”

Eddie glances between Steve and Robin. “Okay,” he says eventually. He steps back while Robin remains where she is. “I’ll—”

“No,” Steve says, and this time the panic remains; he shakes his head urgently. “Not alone. Don’t—not alone with—with me.”

“Steve,” Robin says.

“No,” Steve repeats, and there’s a fierceness to the word—Eddie feels it thrum in his chest, and he somehow knows that it’s not from any unnatural force, that the power is being drawn from Steve alone.

“Buckley,” Eddie says reluctantly.

She squares her shoulders. Takes a step back, eyes never leaving Steve.

Something in Steve unwinds, relaxes. His head droops, almost like he’s falling asleep. A stark vein in his neck pulses.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Good.”

Robin pauses at the door. Her eyes dart to the heaters, then Eddie.

“Are they…?”

“Highest they’ll go,” Eddie says.

Robin bites her lip.

Eddie knows what she’s thinking: that Nancy said unbearable, and right now barely one corner of the room is being warmed.

“It just takes time to, uh, kick in,” Eddie says.

It doesn’t sound convincing—sounds like he’s free-falling, desperately searching for something to hang onto.

But Robin accepts it, Eddie thinks, because what choice does she have? What choice do any of them have?

“Eddie,” Steve says, just as Robin’s stepped out of the room.

“Yeah?”

Steve wets his lips. Swallows again. It looks painful.

“It’s gonna… make him mad.”

Fear seeps down Eddie’s spine.

“We’ll come back,” he says, because right now, it’s the only promise he can make. “We’re not leaving you alone.”

“S’okay,” Steve says. He’s starting to slur his words. “Better this way.”

-

They tumble through the Gate as quickly as they can, then immediately set up the trailer defences.

“We’re lucky this is here,” Eddie says when they’re done, as he picks his electric guitar off the wall, untouched by vines.

“Yeah,” Robin says. “Lucky…”

She abruptly gasps and runs from the room.

Eddie curses, follows her—flinging the guitar across his back.

But there’s nothing in the living room, no bats to fight—just Robin pulling something out from behind Wayne’s bed, laughing with a touch of hysteria.

“Jesus,” Eddie breathes, “you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

Then he actually processes what he’s looking at. Robin’s brought out a space heater, a bulky kerosene-fuelled one, much larger than what they’d originally rustled up.

“But that—that broke last winter,” Eddie says, bewildered.

Robin doesn’t say anything, just turns it on. The effect is almost immediate compared to what they’ve been working with: the heater glows red-hot, and Eddie already feels the urge to take off his jacket.

“Eddie,” Robin says slowly. “It’s 1983.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie says. He grabs her by the shoulders. “You’re a fucking genius.”

Robin turns the heater off, drags it to a point just underneath the Gate.

There’s a couple more treasures they manage to stash away: a match box found on the counter, thrown into a deep cooking pot Robin snatches from a cupboard.

“Oh, you mean business,” Eddie says. “That’s the good pot.”

Robin grins, and it makes Eddie’s heart ache—he knows what they’re doing, forcing smiles to hide their shaking hands.

“And what goddamn atrocity befalls it in the future?”

“That’s between me and God.”

They’re up on the roof, Robin crouched by the amp, when Eddie hears the Walkie crackle.

“Max is—bait’s still been taken,” comes Erica’s staticky voice.

“Uh, copy that,” Eddie says. “Sinclair. Henderson with you?”

A click.

“I’m here,” Dustin says quietly.

Eddie breathes out. “Good. Stick together.”

He sets the walkie down and yanks off his guitar pick. He thinks of Chrissy, her body contorting. Of Patrick, dragged from the water.

Steve’s hands clenched around the sink.

“Showtime, Buckley.”

The noise is explosive. It barely takes a few seconds for the bats to start coming; Eddie watches the horizon as his fingers fly over the strings.

Underneath everything, he can hear Robin counting out bars like she’s in band: One, two, three, four. Two, two, three, four.

Prestissimo.

“Eddie, two more bars!”

He nods in acknowledgement. Feels his heart pound as if in time with the music.

“Now!”

They run. The bats circle dumbly round the roof, some clustered onto the still ringing amp, like moths drawn to light.

Pied Piper.

“Go, go, go!” Eddie urges.

It’s tricky getting the heater through, but they manage it between them, an awkward handover across the Gate.

And then Eddie’s falling, landing next to Robin, breathless. They sit up as one, give each other a speechless high five.

Robin moves first. But she stops midway to Eddie’s room—like a reversal of when he was first brought to a standstill, seeing Chrissy’s eyelids fluttering erratically.

“Eddie,” Robin says. “You—you closed the door, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, mouth dry.

He knows that for certain because as he shut the door, his last glimpse was of Steve leaning the back of his head against the cabinet drawers, eyes closed.

Now the door’s ajar.

Eddie strains to listen, but he can’t hear anything.

He feels Robin’s hand dart into his. He squeezes tight before letting go. She picks up the heater. He’s got the cooking pot under his arm.

Together, they open the door.

The space heaters they’d left are broken, cracked down the middle. The handcuffs are dangling from the drawer handle, pried open, the ropes frayed apart—and the whole room is littered with…

Shards of wood. Snapped strings.

Eddie’s guitars. They’re shattered beyond repair, the red of the Warlock mixed with the dark wood of the acoustic.

And there, backed into the far corner, is Steve.

He’s cradling his wrist to his chest—it looks badly broken. Even from here, Eddie can see evidence of splinters embedded in both hands.

But above all, what’s drawing Eddie’s attention is that his shirt is off, revealing the state of his stomach, the bandages shoddily ripped away. The wound is oozing slow, thick trickles of black and red.

Steve doesn’t seem aware that anyone’s entered the room, just mutters indecipherably to himself, hair hanging down in front of his eyes.

Eddie manages to set the pot down silently—takes one hesitant step forward, cringes when he jostles a piece of wood.

Steve’s head jerks up at the sound. He stares at Eddie, a crease in his forehead.

“Who’re you?”

Robin lets out a breath like she’s been punched in the stomach.

“It’s…” Eddie clears his throat. Stays as still as he can. “It’s me, man. It’s Eddie.”

Steve doesn’t reply.

More wood scatters across the floor—Robin stepping forward frantically, “Steve, it’s me, it’s—”

Eddie stops her with a touch to the back of her hand.

“Steve,” he says, digs deep to find a calm tone. “Who’s this?”

Steve’s jaw works.

“R… R…”

Robin’s face shatters.

She sets the heater down. Turns it on full blast.

“Robin!” Steve gasps. “Robin, it’s me, I’m still—Robin, Robin, please—”

Robin takes another step—“Careful,” Eddie whispers, heart in his throat—and forcibly shoves the heater across the room.

Steve tries to dodge it, but he’s not quick enough; the grille slams against his arm, and Eddie inhales sharply as the skin blisters an angry, weeping red.

Steve’s cries are piercing.

But they reach a peak than taper off into whimpers; he presses himself against the wall, curls his upper body around his blistered arm.

He starts to sob.

They have to get closer to hear, stepping into the circle of heat radiating from the grille, Eddie just behind Robin; sweat pools in the small of his back.

“No, no…”

It’s a dreadful whisper.

They crouch down. Slow.

It doesn’t look like Steve notices: his eyes are shut tight, lashes damp as he continues to plead, “Don’t make me. Please don’t make me.”

Eddie can’t blame Robin for what she does next.

It’s instinct—he’d seen it in his peripheral vision at the boathouse, her hand reaching out to comfort, like she couldn’t stop herself.

No, he can’t blame her. Because Steve is hurting, sobbing like his heart is going to break from it, and he’s right there.

Robin’s hand moves forward.

Eddie sees the moment Steve’s eyes open, cold and inhuman, and Christ, for a millisecond too long, he’d forgotten that they had stepped into the ring with a cobra.

“Robin,” Eddie warns, too late, as Steve’s hand seizes her wrist.

“Don’t worry,” he says, and it’s almost perfect, almost Steve’s gentle concern, but there’s something off in the inflection, a misplaced note—“I’m not killing you first.”

He twists Robin’s hand.

She doesn’t scream, doesn’t even try to move, like she’s holding her breath just to stay silent.

“I can…” Steve breathes in and out through his nose. Predatory. “I can feel her.”

“Who?” Robin says.

A vague noise rumbles from Steve’s chest, like he’s searching for a name again.

“N… Nancy,” he says eventually. “She’s dying,” he says, off-hand. “She can’t breathe.”

Eddie reaches behind. Feels carpet beneath his palm. Steve doesn’t track the movement, eyes fixed on Robin.

“She will be like… like her friend. She will know how it feels to die alone.”

Steve grunts, and then…

Eddie has to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from making a sound; the skin around Steve’s stomach wound ripples, like there’s something bubbling up underneath, moving, alive, crawling up, up, up—mottled veins spreading, black as tar.

Eddie swallows back bile as his hand finds something solid. Wood.

He feels for the lighter in his pocket.

Steve leans towards Robin, baring his teeth.

“I will—”

Click.

“—consume her.”

The jagged piece of guitar burns in Eddie’s hand.

He throws it.

Sparks fly, land directly in Steve’s eyes, and he yells, lets go of Robin—with such an impact that she’s thrown across the room, landing slumped against the cabinet.

“Robin!”

But Eddie doesn’t have any time to help her, because there’s another click, a crackle, and the walkie comes to life, and it must be on accident because all he can hear is the sound of someone—Dustin and Erica—breathing quickly. Running.

Steve’s eyes narrow.

Eddie thinks of Dustin saying, “He knows where we are, he’ll know—”

“Shit,” Eddie hisses.

He tries, desperately, to turn the walkie off, but it suddenly feels like all the air leaves his lungs, and he’s pinned against the wall, Steve’s hand on his chest.

The walkie’s wedged between them. Steve’s somehow using his broken wrist to still Eddie’s hand, to keep the walkie turned on.

Eddie has no choice but to listen to what comes through the static.

It’s chaos. Heavy, frantic breathing; it’s like he can feel the kids clutching their sides as they run. In the distance, a car, the engine stopping. A door opens.

Jason Carver’s voice. “Did you see them?”

Behind Steve, Eddie spots Robin stirring.

Steve keeps staring down at the walkie.

An abrupt cry of pain, and another voice curses, says, “Shit, Jason, I think it’s broken.”

“El?” Dustin breathes.

Something in Steve’s face flickers, but Eddie’s too terrified to know what it means—tries and fails to turn the walkie off again, but he doesn’t even know what’s the right thing to do anymore. He just wants them to be okay, he just wants—

“Jason, no-one’s fucking there. You—you can’t even stand, I’m taking you to the hosp—”

A car door slamming shut. An engine starting up, fading…

Gone.

Dustin and Erica exhale shakily. Running again, footsteps pounding up the stairs, across floorboards…

The walkie cuts off.

Steve grits his teeth.

“Please,” Eddie whispers.

Robin’s up, moving so quietly—scooping the remnants of his guitars into the pot.

Another crackle.

“Eddie!” Dustin’s voice again, up close. “Max is—the music’s not working! I—I don’t know what to—”

There it is again: that flicker across Steve’s face. A ripple in a lake.

“Max,” he says.

The name cracks with emotion, and although his voice has been used before, an uncanny imitation, Eddie knows this is different, feels it in his gut; it’s him, it’s him, it’s him.

The snick of a match being struck.

Steve’s head tilts ever so slightly, but he doesn’t turn around. Like he already knows Robin is right behind him.

Instead—

Steve pries the walkie out of Eddie’s hand. Presses down on the button. Inhales.

“Run.”

The walkie drops with a clatter. Behind them, the fierce roar of flames; Eddie’s face stings.

He can feel Steve’s grip on him loosening, feels himself sliding down the wall.

Steve’s eyes bore into his—and although dark veins have spread across the whites, like spider webs, Eddie can still see the slightest gleam of something real in them.

Something human.

Steve’s lips move, cracked and bleeding.

Now, he mouths.

“Robin!” Eddie yells.

Steve lets him go, and Eddie sees a flash of Robin throwing the entire contents of the pot over Steve, raining fire upon him; Eddie covers his face from the scorching heat, scrambling to get away, relying on touch alone, and his hand hits something, the crunch of plastic, fuck, the walkie—

He’s by the doorway, gasping for breath.

Awareness comes in stages: the fire’s gone out, charred remains of the guitars on the ground where Steve once stood; Robin’s there, her hands red raw, and she’s looking at something, what’s she…?

Steve.

Steve dragging himself across the floor, his broken wrist pressed against his stomach. Crawling to sit next to the space heater, head tipped back against the wall, eyes closed. Breathing.

Just breathing.

Then, so faintly, Eddie almost thinks he’s imagined it.

“Railroad… Snow Ball… Muppet.”

Steve thumps the back of his head against the wall with each word.

Robin goes to him.

Eddie can only watch. He feels like he’s staring at a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

Despite everything, Robin reaches out with her hand again. She touches Steve’s knee gently, and Steve falls silent, stops hitting his head.

Robin smiles, tearful.

“You’ve—you’ve changed that song for me forever,” she says, choked up, and although Eddie can’t really understand, he senses the heart in it, the echoes of their story, of their love hitting him square in the chest.

“Do you remember,” Robin goes on, laughing through it, “the first time we were closing, and you—you got that whole bag of chocolate chips? Tore the corner and just, like, scarfed it. You looked like a chipmunk. It was—it was so gross. And you just said let’s see you do better, then. So we just kept eating them, and we had to pretend we had, like, a whole week where every order had chocolate chips just so we could get another shipment. You… you made me feel like I was five years old. That’s—that’s when I knew.” Robin takes a shuddering breath. Keeps smiling. “Right there. I wanted to be your friend.”

Steve just looks at her. He blinks, and a tear falls down his face, and Eddie can see it, like the sun briefly appearing through storm clouds, can see more of him breaking through, and for a moment, just a moment, there could be a chance, please, please…

Steve’s stomach spasms, and he groans, inhales short and sharp, twists away from Robin’s touch; the litany starts again, fever-slurred.

Eddie rediscovers the walkie. There’s cracks all through the plastic—it might not even work.

But Steve keens, pressing, pressing as blood flows through his fingers, as he trips up on the words, almost insensible now, and Eddie knows he has to take the risk.

His thumb pushes the button.

“Dustin,” he murmurs, “don’t tell me where you are. But if you’re—if you’re safe. Christ, please say you’re… Steve, he—he needs you.”

Silence.

Eddie closes his eyes.

“—safe. We’re all safe. I copy.”

Eddie thinks he laughs or something close to it. Maybe something else, too. He presses his forehead against the walkie. A benediction answered.

“Eddie?” Dustin says, and his speech keeps crackling, keeps threatening to cut out, but he’s there, he’s there.

Steve blinks, turns towards the sound of Dustin’s voice.

But Eddie’s not afraid this time.

“Railroad,” Steve repeats. Soft yet intentional, like he means it with everything he has left. “Railroad.”

Eddie passes the word on to Dustin. Waits.

Dustin takes a little while to figure it out—or maybe he solves it almost instantly, but here, time moves slow: just Robin and Eddie holding their breath, Steve only mouthing the words now. Barely there.

Dustin must push his button down mid-gasp, the words rushing out.

“That’s how we—that’s when everything—”

What follows is a garbled speech Eddie can barely make sense of, as static obscures every third word or so: about the junkyard and demodogs, and tunnels, and…

“D-different details, Henderson,” Eddie says with a choked laugh.

Fondness wells up; for a second it had felt like he was listening to Dustin in the middle of a campaign, on a tangent, and Eddie knows he just has to nudge him down the right path and then he’ll work it out, because the kid’s a goddamn genius.

“Stuff he can feel,” Eddie tries.

Steve looks at him, unblinking, and God he’s still in there, Eddie thinks, there’s so many thoughts, so much of him trapped beneath the surface.

So Dustin talks about Queen playing in Steve’s car, of how the fall leaves looked as they walked, of his shoelaces coming loose, and Steve getting down on his knees in exaggerated exasperation, you’re gonna fall flat on your face, dickhead, we’ve got enough going on.

Eddie takes the thread he’s been given, adds embellishments where he can—the crunch of leaves underfoot, the steady clunk of walking on the tracks, Dustin sometimes hurrying a little, just to match Steve’s stride—and as Steve finally blinks slowly, Eddie prays.

Can you feel it? Please go there. Go somewhere safe. Go somewhere it can’t find you. “What—what else did he say?” Robin says, when Steve lips stops moving, and his eyes close; he looks so tired. “Snow Ball?”

“Yeah, that’s—” Eddie pushes the walkie button again, so Dustin can hear. “Didn’t the Middle School have something… Did you do anything for it? Like put up decorations or…?”

Robin shakes her head.

Eddie furiously racks his brains for one detail, anything—curses himself for not paying attention, for shirking the ‘volunteering’ he was forced to do that December in lieu of detention; for viewing it all with a petty indifference, when for others, it must’ve meant so—

He releases the button.

“Did you say Snow Ball?” Dustin asks, before he launches into Steve shielding his eyes from hairspray, of the forest green gift bag his mom had passed into Steve’s hands, of Steve’s surprise, his shy smile—and then it’s Erica who takes over, calling over somewhere, “Lucas, remember when we came to pick you up?”

And the Sinclairs had stayed much longer than expected because Max’s folks were late in collecting her; and when Steve came to pick up Dustin, he’d noticed and stayed, too.

“He didn’t make a big thing of it,” Max says quietly, somewhere distant; Lucas adds that Steve opened up all his car doors so the tape he was playing could be heard: The Carpenters, some Christmas medley.

“He danced with Max,” Lucas says. “We were betting on how many times he could spin her in a row.”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Eddie can hear Max’s eye roll. Her smile.

“And,” Erica says, “he actually enjoyed dad’s small talk. Like, he was fully hooked on mom and Uncle Jack’s gift wrapping contest.”

Eddie smiles, covers his mouth just in case a traitorous noise slips out. The kids sound happy, and he doesn’t want to ruin that for the world.

Steve’s eyes shine, almost like he’s thinking the same thing.

Sorry, he mouths. I’m sorry.

The walkie dies.

Steve groans again, pushing down on his stomach wound. He’s trying to hide it from view, Eddie realises.

Robin keeps reaching for him. “Steve, don’t—let me help. Please.”

Steve shakes his head. “Can’t—can’t hold it back.” His voice is rasping.

“I saw you,” Eddie says, and Robin glances at him. “Last year. At school.”

The memory comes to him all at once, sparked by the kids and the thought of Steve chatting in a parking lot, so at ease.

“I was pissed ‘cause I’d just flunked—doesn’t matter. Was walking it off outside, and you turned into the parking lot, windows down, and you looked so fucking pleased with yourself cause you’d already passed everything. You must’ve had a free period, maybe a double, I dunno. I was,” Eddie huffs self-deprecatingly, “jealous.”

Steve’s head slumps against the wall. His chest rises and falls rapidly, laden with sweat. Eddie tries not to look at the marks—where the burning pieces of wood struck his skin.

Steve’s eyes find his. One long blink.

Keep going.

“You—you were wearing these sunglasses,” Eddie says, and Robin sobs, laughs, like she knows exactly the pair he means. “And you—the radio was on, but I—I can’t remember what was—anyway, you were kinda. Singing. Or, like, humming to yourself. And you were walking to the middle school, you kept throwing your keys in the air. You caught ‘em every damn time.” Eddie chuckles. “Do you know how annoying that was? And I—I just kept watching, ‘till the bell rang, and I just didn’t get it. Didn’t get why you looked so… so happy. But I—” Eddie swallows. “I know now.”

Steve’s mouth tilts, not quite a smile—he’s trying, he’s trying.

“You were gonna go see the kids, huh?” Eddie says. “Surprise them or something, I don’t know. You can tell me later. Promise me? And you—” His voice threatens to go, but he pushes through it, because if there’s one thing Steve needs to hear, it’s this.

Just this.

“You were happy. Because you loved them,” Eddie whispers. “And they loved you.”

Steve breathes in.

And he rises up so suddenly that Robin falls back in alarm. He hits the space heater as he goes, and while it still blisters his skin, he doesn’t cringe away, more deliberately leans into it—

“Quick,” Steve mutters. “He’s mad, he’s mad, we don’t have much—”

And he lies down directly on the bed frame, his stomach still oozing that viscous black and red; Eddie’s stomach drops.

He feels strange, like his body already knows what’s coming before his mind’s caught up.

“Quick, quick—”

The smash of a bottle as Steve fumbles it, spilling alcohol on the floor—he tries again, reaches for lighter fluid and douses the whole bed frame in it.

“Robin,” he says, “Robin, please.”

She’s watching Steve’s every move with wide eyes; Eddie just looks on helplessly.

Fucking move.

“Robin!”

“Steve, I—” She shakes her head, uncomprehending—more like she doesn’t want to understand. “I don’t—”

Steve doubles over, picks something off the floor. Eddie’s distracted—stupid, stupid—watching in horror as more black veins spread up, across Steve’s shoulders, the strained muscles in his neck, and too late, he realises that Steve’s holding a lighter in his hand.

Click.

Steve drops it.

Sets the wooden slats ablaze.

He cries out, back arching—the flames lick higher, higher, and Robin’s screaming Steve’s name, running to him, like she can pull him from the flames…

There’s something else in Steve’s hand.

Robin’s trapped where she’s stood, a broken piece of glass to her neck—and Steve’s struggling against it, but his hand doesn’t move, as beads of blood dot Robin’s skin—

Eddie doesn’t know when it happened. Just knows that he’s holding a spear, and it’s on fire too, flames creeping up…

“Eddie!” Steve says. “Finish it!”

His skin writhes, contorting; Eddie thinks of Chrissy again, of Patrick—and a faint memory of Will Byers, vanishing without a trace.

It was you, Eddie thinks numbly. It was all you.

The glass presses closer still against Robin’s neck. She gasps—

And Steve begs.

“Kill me!”

The stomach wound heaves like a living creature, gaping and monstrous.

“Give him back, you son of a bitch,” Eddie breathes.

He lunges forward.

With all his strength, he digs the spear straight into Steve’s stomach; the flames surge, engulf—

Steve screams.

A black mass pours out of his mouth, and Eddie thinks he’s screaming, too, but he can’t hear anything, can’t hear anything but Steve, the torture in his voice, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and the mass hits him; he flies through the air, feels his head smack against something solid.

Then nothing.

He comes to in the living room. Blood dampens the back of his head.

Sits up. Blinks dazedly at the ceiling. The Gate… the Gate’s gone.

Bedroom. Has to… Steve, Robin. Bedroom.

He shoves himself up, wobbles. Forces himself on.

He knows he’s lost time when he nears the room: a chill hits him from the broken window, and the flames have been put out.

Robin. Robin kneeling by the bed, burns all up her arms.

“—open your eyes,” she’s saying. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

Eddie very deliberately doesn’t fully register who she’s talking to. If he does, he’ll freeze, useless. He will never forgive himself.

“Band lungs, Buckley,” he croaks, and then he falls beside her.

Starts compressions.

You’re not going, you’re not going. You’ve got so many people to see again. No. You’re not going.

He tries just to count out loud, but even as he’s doing it, something crumbles, something breaks apart irreparably inside of him, “Don’t you dare leave, don’t you…”

Robin. Two breaths.

“I wanna talk to you, Steve Harrington, and you’re gonna fucking be there to listen, do you understand, do you…”

He loses track of what he’s saying completely, lost to wilder and wilder promises, but it doesn’t matter, nothing matters except this, except the desperate push of his hands, the crack of Steve’s ribs, Robin’s long breaths; and God, Eddie would give anything, anything at all, would tear his fucking heart out if it would help, if it meant that Steve would—

“—just breathe!”

Something jolts underneath his fingers; for a moment, it destroys him: it’s back, it’s—

“That’s it,” Robin’s saying, “there, there, that’s—”

Eddie’s head sinks down to his knees.

Wretched coughs. Gasping.

“He can’t—Eddie, he can’t breathe.”

Eddie staggers over to the window. Makes the hole bigger, again and again. Glass slices through his palms.

“That’s better, huh?” Robin’s murmuring, and Eddie can’t look at her, can’t look at who’s in her arms; if he does, the proof will shatter, and that can’t… he has to…

The phone rings.

Eddie goes to it. His arm lifts, heavy and delayed. Like he’s in a dream.

On the other end, a terrified voice.

Mike. Mike Wheeler crying.

“Did it work?”

“I—” There’s a high-pitched ringing in Eddie’s ears; he shakes his head. “I don’t—”

“I-is Nancy there? Where’s Nancy?”

And there’s that gut feeling again, the one that pulled Eddie out of the RV in the first place; “Hang on,” he says to Mike, and he lets the phone fall, pushes the front door open to stand on the porch, breathing in shallow, frigid breaths.

There’s something coming out from behind the trees.

Closer and closer, and Eddie almost assumes the worst.

But it’s Nancy. There’s ash in her hair, and she’s drenched, coated in black sludge; her teeth flash as she smiles, a pocket knife gleaming in her hand.

“I made my own Gate,” she says.

Barely missing a beat, she tilts her head to the side to throw up. She wipes her mouth with the back of her sleeve, spreads more thick tar across her face.

Underneath everything, there’s a scarlet ring around her throat.

“Your brother,” is all Eddie can get out.

Her eyes blaze white-hot.

“Mike,” she says, clutching the phone so tightly, like she would do the very same if she could hold his hand. “It’s gone, it’s all gone.” And then, louder, louder, trembling, “And whoever’s fucking listening on here, get us help. I know you’re there. I won’t stop. I won’t—”

Eddie knows she says more. She must do.

But he can’t stop staring down at his hands. At the blood.

He steps forward—almost sways, and Nancy catches his wrist.

“Don’t go outside without me. Don’t talk to anyone apart from us, Eddie. Okay? They won’t touch you. I won’t let them.”

Eddie thinks he manages a nod. He believes her. Her jaw quivers, but her head’s held up high: if a gun was pressed to her head, he knows the bullet wouldn’t take.

The phone call continues, but the sound is muffled, underwater.

Eddie comes back to himself in the bedroom doorway.

Robin’s still by the bed.

Steve’s lying there, eyes closed. His stomach’s still bleeding, slow, slow, but the veins have gone, they’ve…

“Eddie.” Robin reaches out a hand to him. “Come on. You… you can feel him breathing from here.”

Why don’t you hate me?

He should leave. He should leave.

He doesn’t deserve…

But Robin keeps reaching, and Eddie’s on his knees next to her, a coward, you’re a fucking coward.

“Here,” Robin says.

She guides Eddie’s hand. Places it on Steve’s sternum, above the awful wound, above all the pain Eddie caused—

There. A rise and fall.

Just breathing.

Eddie’s breath catches.

“I thought—” He shudders. “I thought I’d—”

Robin must sense it before he does, before he even really knows it’s happening.

“You’re okay,” she says, and she pulls him into her embrace—keeps one hand on Steve as she does.

Good, Eddie thinks. He needs to know you’re there. He shouldn’t be alone.

He turns his face into Robin’s shoulder, and weeps.

[avatar-anna]

The Newlywed Game

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

young dad!harry and young mom!reader play the newlywed game!

wc: 5k

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“Okay, Mom, Dad, please state your names for the video.”

Harry and Y/n shared a look like they couldn’t actually believe they were doing this. It was a quick one, though, and Harry was the first to snap his head back towards the phone propped up on a tripod. “Hello, I’m Harry. Collette’s dad.”

Y/n resisted the urge to roll her eyes. As long as she’d known him, Harry always introduced himself like he was some random guy that taught at the local high school and not a world famous musician. Harry caught his wife’s stare and raised his eyebrows at her, a question in his eyes. Y/n ignored it and proceeded to introduce herself as Collette’s mom.

A few months ago, Collette decided she wanted to start a YouTube channel. Since they tried to keep all six of their kids out of the limelight, it wasn’t something that Harry or Y/n were exactly thrilled to hear about. At first, Y/n had said no, telling her second oldest daughter that she was too young and didn’t have any business making videos on the Internet for the general public. She felt bad at how quickly she shut it down, especially since Collette was rather upset about being told no, but her mind was still made up.

What was most surprising was that Harry was the one who convinced her to say yes. Y/n couldn’t believe it. In all the time they’d been together, her husband appeared on his social media accounts only a handful of times. He was practically anti-social media, yet here he was, encouraging her to change her mind. “I talked to Jeff, and he said he would help keep an eye on things.”

“I don’t know, Harry. She’s seventeen. And the internet can be so cruel. We’ve done such a good job keeping them away from all of that.” Every one of their kids’ social media accounts had their comments turned off. Most, if not all, of their social media posts were pre-approved before getting posted, though that was becoming harder and harder the older they got. Simone, who was in college now, was still careful, but she wasn’t telling her parents about each picture she posted on her Instagram either.

“I think it’ll be fine,” Harry had insisted, kissing her cheek as she got the next day’s lunches ready for the twins, Collette, and Natalia a couple of hours after she had said no. Her daughter had groaned and looked like she was about to stomp her foot in frustration, but instead she told Y/n that she was the worst mom in the world and was ruining her life. Y/n was more than ready to tell her daughter that she better not be speaking to her that way, that fiery, argumentative side rising to the surface of her typically calm demeanor. They argued for a few minutes, then eventually left each other alone to blow off some steam. Collette stomped up to her room, but knew better than to slam her bedroom door, and that appeared to be that.

Harry had come home to a tense house, his wife and daughter in their separate corners and not talking to each other. He’d gone to Y/n first, asking her why the house was so quiet when it was usually buzzing with some sort of chatter. That’s when Y/n told him about Collette’s request, her answer, and the blow up that followed. Harry had gone upstairs a little while later to smooth things over with Lettie, who was quick to rest her head on his shoulder and vent about her mom.

“She doesn’t get it, she never does,” she’d said.

Harry ran his hand through his daughter’s hair, careful not to pull too hard on any knots. “Did you ever stop to think that she said no because she loves you and wants to keep you safe? Your mum has been on the receiving end of a lot of hate,” he said gently. “We don’t want to see that happen to you or your brother or sisters, peanut. It feels extreme, but we’re just looking out for you.”

Collette didn’t have anything to say in response to that until she eventually grumbled, “She didn’t have to be so mean about it.”

“Maybe not. Did you try to explain why you want to do this?”

“She didn’t even give me a chance! She just flat out told me no.”

He could hear the shakiness in Collette’s voice, the same shakiness that always appeared when she was frustrated. Whether she liked it or not, she was like her mom in more ways than she would ever know. It made a small smile flicker on Harry’s face to see a reflection of the woman he loved so much sitting next to him. His daughter.

“Your mum and I want to do what we think is best for you. You know that our lives aren’t as normal as we’d maybe like them to be.”

“Dad, I know, but I really want to do this. All my friends get to post about their lives whenever they want and I have to check with you or Mom first. It’s suffocating sometimes. It just feels like you don’t trust me sometimes.” Collette stopped for a moment, and Harry knew that this was something that had been on her mind for a while.

“That’s not why we have these rules, Collette. Not at all.”

Harry wanted to give her the world, and in a lot of ways he had, but he’d never really thought about how their rules might feel restricting, having only ever wanted to keep their children safe. And Simone never really had a problem with it, so Harry and Y/n figured it would be the same for the rest of their kids. But of course it wasn’t the same. All their kids were different and dealt with things differently.

Simone was more on the introverted side, had a close group of friends that were okay with keeping to themselves—although as Harry thought back, perhaps his oldest daughter was just going along with their rules but felt different on the inside, he would have to ask her about it later. Collette was the opposite, though. She had a large group of friends that liked to go to school sports games and parties and the beach. She’d always liked photography and taking pictures of her family if they were willing, Natalia usually her main subject; it was a feat if she managed to get Harry or Y/n in front of her camera, though. In a way, he shouldn’t have been surprised that this was something Collette wanted.

“Tell me more about it,” he’d said then, and his daughter’s responding smile was enough to make him crack. But he couldn’t say yes yet, he had to talk to his wife first.

So after making good on his promise and talking to his manager, making sure his little girl was safe and happy, they let her make her videos.

They were mostly pretty short, just of her doing her makeup in front of her camera and answering questions about her family. Sometimes she would ask Harry if she could borrow his clothes, and he would say yes because she was always borrowing something of his to wear to school, but to his surprise, it ended up being for a video, something with a title along the lines of turning her dad’s grandpa sweaters into something “cute.” He frowned when he watched it with Y/n in their bedroom one night, but she just laughed, more on board with her daughter’s hobby than ever. In other videos, she let her siblings join in—she’d do their hair or makeup or take them shopping or making food in the kitchen.

It wasn’t until Y/n appeared quickly in one of Lettie’s videos to do her hair for homecoming that requests came in to see more of her parents. She’d come to them and asked if they would sit down and play a game for one, and after lots of begging, they eventually caved.

“Tell us what you’re going to be doing today,” Collette said from behind the camera, a set of questions ready to go in her lap.

Harry looked relaxed in jeans and a sweater, his hair artfully messy as it always was. Y/n was in a pair of leggings and one of Harry’s old sweatshirts. It was black with the print faded to the point where it was barely visible, but through the sharp lens of Collete’s camera picked up what looked like a picture of the earth with words printed over it. Collette had frowned at her parents’ casual attire, but she decided not to comment on it seeing as she got them to film this video in the first place. And not that it really mattered anyway; in pajamas or dressed up for one of Harry’s events, her parents always looked fantastic.

“Erm, we are here to play the…sorry, peanut, what’s it called?” Harry said. His brows furrowed, like he was trying to recall the title Collette had given the video a few days ago.

She’d printed out a list of questions that they were going to answer today with the title printed in bold at the top. Like Y/n, Collette was very organized and had a list for practically every little thing that she did. Y/n looked over the list thoroughly while Harry decided to wing it on the day Collette said they were meant to film her video.

“Babe, don’t call her peanut on camera,” Y/n chided, shoving her husband’s arm lightly. She saw Collette’s frown from behind the camera when the name left Harry’s lips and was quick to correct him. She knew that all the stuff her daughter didn’t like could just be edited out, but Y/n figured things would go a lot smoother if their daughter didn’t get flustered and upset with them in the first five minutes of filming this video. Smiling cheerfully at the camera, Y/n said, “We’re playing the newlywed game, remember?”

“Right!” Harry said, his face lighting up at the familiar name. “Right, I remember because we’re playing a game for newlyweds even though we’ve been married for years.”

“Yeah, well, this will be a test to see how well you know each other after being together for so long,” Collette replied.

After that, they recorded the rules of the game—writing their answers to a number of questions about each other on little individual white boards, each right answer won them a point, and the one with the most points won the game.

“Okay, first question,” Collette said, looking down at her list. “When is your spouse’s birthday?”

“Spouse?” Y/n muttered, writing her answer down without hesitation. “Kind of formal, but alright.”

“But isn’t that what we are, love?” Harry asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

Y/n merely hummed before turning her whiteboard over. “Easy. February first, nineteen ninety-four.”

Harry flipped his own board over, his answer correct, too. From there they answered more trivia about their relationship—anniversaries, favorite colors, zodiac signs, how old they were, and so on.

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“Who’s the better driver?” Collette asked.

Both of them were quick to jot down their answers. When they lifted their boards up to show their answers, Harry scoffed. “That is not even true.”

Y/n looked at her husband’s board, and saw that he’d written himself instead of her. “Not even! I’m a much better driver.”

“Y/n, I love you, but every time you get behind the wheel you drive like we’re in a high-speed chase.”

“I do not!”

Looking beyond the camera, Harry asked Collette, “Lettie, back me up here. I’m the better driver, right?”

“No, no. That’s not how that works. You can’t ask her,” Y/n said. “And besides, she’d disagree with you anyway.”

“It’s not that deep,” Collette said, trying to diffuse the argument before her parents could get started. Over the years, she realized that her parents didn’t fight very much, but their silly arguments could get quite intense, as both her mom and dad liked to be right. “Can we just move on, please?”

“I can’t believe you think I drive like a fugitive,” Y/n muttered as she wiped her answer away in preparation for the next question.

“I love you,” he said in reply, kissing her cheek when she grunted at him.

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“What is the best gift you ever gave to Dad?���

“Oh, I know exactly what he’s going to put,” Y/n said confidently.

“No you don’t,” Harry pouted.

Y/n resisted the urge to tease him. “That’s the whole point of this game, H.”

“Okay, show your answers,” Collette said before they could get into another little tiff over nothing.

Harry flipped his first, his messy scrawl reading, 6 beautiful children. Y/n grinned and showed her answer, revealing that she had in fact written the exact same thing. “What did I tell you?”

“Must you be right all the time?”

Y/n pretended to think about it before saying. “Mm…Yes.”

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“Who is the better dancer?”

Harry rolled his eyes at Y/n’s smug smile, but scribbled down his answer anyway. After Collette counted down from three, they showed their answers, both whiteboards saying Y/n.

“To be fair, you have improved a lot since we first met,” Y/n amended, having seen the bashful look on Harry’s face.

There was a time when Harry used to be embarrassed by his lack of coordination. He was okay at dancing onstage to his own songs, but outside of that, he had trouble finding the beat. Y/n was no professional by any means, but she was definitely better than him.

That all changed though when they managed to sneak off to some club together. Once a month, one or two or all of the boys agreed to watch Simone while Harry and Y/n went out on a date. They usually didn’t stay out long, but it was nice to feel their age once in a while, to let go of responsibilities for just a couple hours.

All night, Y/n kept trying to pull Harry out onto the dance floor, perhaps a little tipsy and feeling the bass a little too much, frowning every time he said no. Harry felt bad, but the fear of looking like an idiot was stronger, despite the club being so dark. So he told her to go and dance while he went to the restroom. Y/n sighed, clearly not happy with him. This was their one night of the month to let loose and spend some alone time together, and he was being so grumpy. Not wanting to let him ruin the night for her, she turned and went anyway.

When Harry came back, it took him a minute to find Y/n, but when he did, a wave of jealousy washed over him. She found a partner to dance with, which could only be Harry’s fault, but he didn’t like how close his then girlfriend at the time was to the other guy. He knew Y/n would never cheat and that she really was on the dance floor to just dance, but he just couldn’t handle seeing her with someone else like that.

Harry pulled Y/n off the dance floor, saying he wasn’t feeling well and that he wanted to go back to the hotel. Y/n saw right through his bullshit, but she left with him anyway.

“Okay, what is going on with you?” she asked once they were in the confines of their car. “You didn’t want to dance, so I found someone to dance with.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate the apology, Harry, but I want to know what’s wrong. Talk to me.”

They were so young, and yet Y/n was so mature about the whole thing. Having a baby before twenty would do that, he supposed.

Harry sighed. He knew it wasn’t really a big deal, and the fact that he was making it one made him even more embarrassed. “I can’t dance.”

Knowing this was obviously a touchy subject for him, she tried to keep a straight face. “Okay…What parts do you have trouble with?”

“I don’t know, all of it? I just feel so awkward.”

Taking his hand in hers, she asked, “Why have you never told me this? We could’ve gone somewhere else.”

“I know, but you seemed excited about tonight. And it’s just embarrassing when you’re…you know…”

“What?”

“Love, respectfully? You’re fucking sexy.”

Y/n blushed. There weren’t very many moments where she felt even remotely desirable sometimes, let alone sexy. “Oh stop.”

“It’s true. I’d look like an idiot dancing with you.”

Harry pulled into the back of the hotel and put the car in park, but neither of them got out. Leaning across the middle, Y/n gently took his face in her hands and kissed him, running her thumb across his cheek the way he liked when he needed to be comforted.

“I think you’re exaggerating a little. You’re not as bad as you’re making yourself out to be.”

“Gee, thanks,” he said, frowning.

Y/n kissed away the wrinkle between his brows. “I’ll teach you, baby. Don’t worry.”

“Right now?”

“Mm, sure, why not.”

Both of them got out of the car, Y/n leading Harry to her hotel room. Simone was in Zayn’s room, so they had the place to themselves for just a little bit longer. From her phone, she queued up a song, something slow and easier to dance to.

“Okay, so you’re dancing to the beat of the song, not the what’s being sung,” she said, resting her hands on Harry’s hips. “Just feel the music. Let it move you.”

Harry started off a little awkwardly, but the longer Y/n coached him, the better he got. He followed her lead, stepping when and where she said. “See?” she said, smiling up at him. “You’re so good.”

He couldn’t hide his smile. Now that he was getting the hang of it, Harry couldn’t believe he didn’t dance with Y/n more often. His hands were on her hips, she was moving against him sensually, and in the heels she was wearing, she was just tall enough to kiss him whenever she wanted.

It was safe to say that Harry was Y/n’s forever dance partner after that. Y/n was obviously still better, but he’d come a long way. He took each and every one of his daughters to their respective Daddy/Daughter dances and never left his wife alone on any dance floor.

Collette, of course, didn’t know much about her dad’s dancing, just that he danced like dads often did. “Yeah, Dad, you’re not bad, Mom is just better.”

Harry shrugged and sighed playfully. “Can’t argue with that, can I?”

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“Okay, Mom, what is your favorite Harry Styles song?”

“Oh that’s hard, there’s just so many to pick from,” Y/n said, holding the board close to her chest. In truth, she had one in mind, but she was also thinking about what her husband would write as his answer, which made her hesitate.

She looked up, only to find that Harry was already waiting to meet her eyes. From behind the camera, Collette watched as her parents had a silent conversation. They stared at each other for a couple seconds, then finally seemed to end their conversation and went back to their whiteboards.

“Dad, you first,” Collette said, gesturing behind the camera for him to show his answer.

Harry flipped his board around revealing the words, “Track 15.”

Y/n flipped hers around to reveal the same thing.

“Do you want to explain?” Collette asked. She knew the song of course, but seeing as it was an unreleased song, she felt her parents should elaborate for the video.

“It’s a song H recorded for our what? Third wedding anniversary?” Y/n said. “It’s a love song, and little JuJu is on it, and it’s so sweet. I cry every time I listen to it, I think.”

Harry smiled at her. “You do.” Then to the camera, he said, “I play it when she’s cross with me too. Reminds her why she loves me.”

Y/n’s mouth opened in shock, clearly unaware of her husband’s make-up tactics. But then she closed it and gave Harry a look. “We’ll talk about it later.”

A look of fear crossed Harry’s face, and Collette just shook her head behind the camera before moving onto the next question.

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“How did the two of you meet?”

Harry and Y/n were quick to answer on their boards, and when they flipped, they had the same answer.

“Her friend was an extra on the What Make You Beautiful video, and Y/n came too. Caught my eye immediately.”

“That is not what happened,” Y/n replied. “Zayn buried him in sand while he was taking a nap on the beach and I was the only one who wanted to wake him up.”

“I remember it differently,” was all Harry said.

“But,” Y/n added. “He and the boys joined my friend and me for a game of beach volleyball, which they’d never played before, and I will say you were quite flirtatious.”

“Knew what I wanted,” he said with a confident grin.

In truth, Y/n was surprised when Harry approached her. Her friend was the one who thought he was cute, and she was the one who was in the music video, so Y/n didn’t think any of the boys would notice her, much less take an interest in her. And he didn’t really talk to her until much later in the day. Niall and Louis were kind of the only ones who talked to her between shoots, and she thought Niall was quite funny.

To be fair, all of the One Direction boys were cute and funny and charming, but Niall was the one she had drifted toward at first, if only because he made her feel the most welcome. Later on, Harry had attached himself at Y/n’s hip while they played volleyball together. And long after too. He pulled her toward the shore and walked with her, asking her all sorts of questions from where she was from to what she was doing the next day. It was unexpected after he hadn’t spoken to her most of the day, but Y/n became more and more smitten the longer they talked.

As someone who wasn’t flirted with often, Y/n, for lack of better word, ate it all up. She thought he was so kind and she liked his smile and his pretty green eyes. She remembered feeling so light when her friend dropped her off at home, Harry’s number scribbled on a piece of paper in her back pocket. In the back of her mind, she knew she probably wouldn’t see him again, but he texted her that same night and asked if she was free tomorrow, and it just kind of spiraled from there.

Y/n never expected one little afternoon would turn into a lifetime with Harry, but she sometimes felt like it had been fate that she’d been there that day, even if her friend didn’t speak to her for a week for stealing Harry’s attention.

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“Which of you tends to get the most jealous?”

“I’d say neither of us get very jealous,” Harry said thoughtfully.

“Not anymore. You’ve always had a bit of a jealous streak,” Y/n amended. “Remember at the video shoot and Niall was chatting with me?”

Harry scratched his head and looked away from his wife. “No.”

Y/n laughed as she recalled the memory. “He was kind of the only one that day who would stop and talk to me before Harry did, and I remember looking over and thinking about your dad,” she said to Collette, “who pissed in his cereal this morning? Because he had this frown on his face whenever I caught his eye, and I’d hardly even spoken to him!”

“Uncle Niall was hitting on you?” Collette asked, unable to hide her disbelief and slight disgust.

“The correct response, thank you,” Harry said.

Y/n shook her head as if they’d had this conversation a million times. “He was talking you up, babe.”

“What?”

“Yeah. He said you were too shy to make the first move, but you ‘fancied’ me. It was so cute.”

Harry had been nervous to talk to Y/n. She’d woken him up at the beach earlier in the afternoon, but she hadn’t spoken to him since, and Harry didn’t know how to strike up a conversation with her. She was this beautiful American girl who just seemed so cool, so out of his league. Harry was slowly gaining confidence from being in the band, but he still got tongue tied around girls he fancied, and Y/n was no different. It wasn't until Zayn pushed him over to the volleyball courts that he felt confident enough to be more charming. Y/n made him comfortable enough to be himself, and he knew he needed to do as much as he could to let him give her his number so he could see her again. Harry wasn’t going to be in LA very long, so he knew he had to make those couple days count.

Boy did he ever.

“We used to get a little jealous, but,” Y/n shrugged, “I don’t know I think we just grew out of it, don’t you think?”

“I’d say that’s pretty fair,” Harry agreed, though he knew how much of a hard time his wife had the first year or two they were together. It was hard for her to watch him flirt and be cheeky with other women on national television or go on fake dates when she was home with Simone. Harry was never tempted, not once, but he knew that he would’ve felt similarly if the roles were reversed.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“What is Mom’s favorite tattoo of Dad’s?”

“I don’t even think I know,” Y/n said as she tapped her marker against her whiteboard.

“Definitely not the butterfly,” Harry muttered, scribbling something down.

“That’s not true! It was just jarring to see at first. You didn’t even tell me you were gonna get it!”

Harry shrugged and winked at the camera. “I like to be spontaneous.”

Collette waited for her parents to finish writing their answers, though she was surprised that this was the one that took the longest for Y/n to answer. When it looked like they were done, she said, “Okay, three, two, one, flip!”

Harry’s board read, Brazil. When he saw Y/n’s answer, he scoffed. “Really?”

“I don’t know, I think it’s cute!” she said when he judged her answer if, palm tree. “You’re like a little California girl at heart.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I figured Brazil one because, you know, you actually did that one.”

The truth they refused to admit was that deep down Y/n’s favorite were the fern tattoos. She always took extra time kissing them whenever they were intimate, but neither of them were willing to admit that in front of their daughter or on camera.

“Close second,” Y/n said with a knowing glance at Harry.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“Who said I love you first?”

Harry and Y/n answered with a resounding, “Harry” and “H.”

Y/n leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I was quick to follow, to be fair.”

Harry shrugged, a smug little grin on his face. “I was still first.”

Y/n just rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were flushed, as if she was remembering the day right then.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“Okay, and last couple questions. What is Dad’s drink of choice?”

When asked to reveal her board, Y/n turned it around, the words “neat tequila” written on it. She felt pretty confident about it, but when Harry turned his board around, she frowned. “Since when?”

“Your dad turned me onto Scotch years ago,” he said, looking at her incredulously.

“Lies.”

“Babe, every Christmas your dad and I share a drink together. It’s like our thing.”

“You have a tequila reposado every time we go out.”

“That‘s…also true,” Harry admitted, grinning sheepishly.

Collette decided that was a good time to move on. “And what’s Mom’s?”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“Okay, everyone! That was my parents playing the newlywed game!” Collette said, now sitting between Harry and Y/n.

She did her usual sign-off with her parents, though both insisted that they revealed who won the game. It was close, but Harry beat Y/n by two points, which Collette knew would be the topic of conversation the next couple days. Her parents were weirdly competitive with each other.

It was safe to say that that video was Collette’s most viewed. People went crazy over seeing Harry and Y/n together like that when the didn’t normally make public appearances unless it had to do with Harry’s music. They were often dubbed “Hollywood’s Most Elusive Couple” for a reason, so to see them in a video together, and one where they talked about their relationship, at that, was a pleasant surprise for everyone.

Request after request came in to see more of Harry and Y/n, but Collette knew it would be a while before her parents agreed. Not that she minded, she was just glad they agreed in the first place.

[leviaana]

Miraculous Movie Review (Rating: 4/10)

I watched the preview of the Awakening movie yesterday and really want to share my honest review. There’s going to be several things that I’ll criticize. So be warned!

Also: Spoilers!! DON’T read it if you haven’t seen it yet. This is my personal opinion. So please stay excited for it!! 🐞🪄

First of all, my overall rating for this movie is a 4/10. Just yesterday I was ready to give it a 5/10, but quickly noticed it had much more things that upset me than I initially realized when walking out of the movie.

I know it’s a pretty low rating coming from such a huge fan like myself, but that’s probably the main issue. I’m a big fan of the show, so changes in lore and characterization will be more apparent to me. For better or for worse, in this case, mostly for worse.

On the first glimpse the movie seems like a retelling - a soft reboot, if you will - of show’s origin story. The plot goes much further than that however, as it also provides a conclusion in form of a final battle with Hawkmoth as well as an identity reveal of our two main heroes.

In order to ensure the entire premise fits into a 90 minute movie, a lot of things regarding the shows lore were simplified. I say that as a neutral statement seeing as a simplification can be either a good thing or a bad thing, depending on your opinion of the source material.

Personally, it left me rather unsatisfied but I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start with the good things!

One of the things I really enjoyed was the animation! Seeing miraculous with such a high production value certainly felt like a cool summer breeze. While I do prefer the original character models style wise, it was still just nice to see them in this cutesie pretty style! The locals were gagging!

Ladybug and Cat Noir were especially gorgeous!

I also really enjoyed the singing. I watched the German dub and it was very neat!

Sad to say that was pretty much how long my enjoyment lasted. Everything apart from what I’ve mentioned above was… interestingly handled… to say the least. Let me elaborate.

1. The dialogue was awful!

Truly not the biggest fan of musicals but I couldn’t wait for them to start singing just in order for them to STOP TALKING 😩!

The dialogue was so awkward and stiff. All of the characters were interacting very weirdly with each other. At times it would sound like several lines of dialogue were cut from the final version, as the characters barely acknowledged each other verbally. They didn’t talk with each other, but past each other.

Moreover, every second phrase was a very cheesy one liner. “Believe in yourself.”, “Listen to your heart.”, “stronger together”. Super overdone.

The movie wanted to be inspirational so bad, it forgot to be genuine.

Some examples that I recall from memory:

“Mom, I don’t have any friends and I’m scared to go I school.”

“Just believe in yourself, Marinette.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Or.

“Tikki, I’m in love with Adrien.”

“Listen to your heart, Marinette.”

“My heart……Adrien.”

2. How did they manage to make Ladynoir banter … weird and uncomfortable to watch?

Don’t let these pretty movie shots fool you because Movie!ladynoir spent their time in a constant roasting competition that they were somehow both losing!

Not once did they manage to establish that flirty and charming atmosphere around them. No, they were draaaagging each other through filth. And maybe it could have been somewhat fun, god knows I love couples that can roast each other. If only the dialogue was better and didn’t reek of “we have no idea how young people interact”.

In a desperate attempt to make jokes, they let Chat call LB a sidekick or watermelon in every. single. scene. To say that it got annoying when the jokes didn’t land the first 10 times they were made is an understatement. No Milady, no Bugginette, no little wink or a kiss on the hand. Only watermelon and sidekick. Them talking in weird cut off phrases. With careless whisper playing in the background.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some beautiful moments. But their beauty can only ever do so much when met with weird pacing, dialogue and characterization. I’ll talk about that last part in a minute.

3. Everything was so on-the-nose.

The characters would constantly say how they feel and what they think aloud. Jeremy didn’t trust us with even an ounce of media literacy. Classic case of always telling, never showing. Not to mention the constant inspirational quoting in a desperate attempt to convey some deep message. Is this a movie script or my moms facebook page? I guess we‘ll never know.

4. Characterization: Marinette

Having Marinette be somewhat scatterbrained but overall still respected by her peers is not inspirational enough! Make her your average teenage outcast and a total loser. Dad, you’re embarrassing me in front of the cool kids!

If you enjoy that kind of characterization that’s okay! Personally, I thought it was very cliche. It just.. didn’t do anything for her as a character. Having her start off at a much „lower” point in life, with almost no support system, only makes her coming of age journey to eventually become a self accepting confident heroine take longer. Seeing as the movie is only 90 minutes, the moment we see her “shine” is when it’s all almost over.

5. Ladybug …?

Did I mention Ladybug doesn’t use her lucky charm? Not. once. No crazy plans to show that she’s smart and creative. Just a pretty girl swinging around.

6. Adrien

I have a bit more to criticize about the characterization of Movie!Adrien.

The longer I think about it, the more it becomes apparent that they really didn’t know how to write Adrien. His personality appears inconsistent, almost like they were trying to fit him in too many roles at once. He is either extremely closed off and mysterious (even towards his friends), a comic relief character, bathing in self pity or just outright cocky. Those hoping to see his politeness and selflessness will be disappointed. This character only is ever shown to be self centered. A perfect example is how he *didn’t do anything* to be called worthy of the Black Cat Miraculous. He was just one of the „chosen ones“. When the Adrien from the series sacrificed his own freedom to help Master Fu.

Another example is how this Adrien doesn’t really see anything in Marinette. He called her strange in their first interaction and never really lost a single thought on her throughout the rest of the series. No common praises, no support, just awkwardness and not the wholesome kind. In fact, I would argue Marinette and Adrien aren’t even friends in the movie, the only interaction to suggest otherwise was slammed as a 5 second scene in a 2 minute montage.

Even if you were to suggest their bond was formed off screen. We don’t really see it ever take root. He even turned down her gift and invitation to go to the ball with her. Yes, you guessed correctly. It was because he was busy bathing in self pity over being rejected by Ladybug. Yikes.

To sum it up, this Adrien really doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Ever. They massacred my boy.

7. Chat Noir

His charming smugness as Chat Noir crossed the fine line that turned to arrogance.

Considering how Adrien was characterized, that comes as no surprise.

As mentioned in my criticism towards the dialogue and the Ladynoir dynamic, this Cat is often seen discrediting LB with unfunny jokes. The moment you see him actually appreciate Ladybug, open up to her and Woo her, it’s all overshadowed by his entitlement to her affection.

Some may argue that we see traces of such attitude in the show as well. However, in a series, Chat Noir has many redeeming qualities as well as time to grow, change and move past these flaws. And boy, move past these flaws he did. In the movie, it’s all you get. Take it or leave it.

In one scene, he even lets her think he was hurt by an Akuma in order to catch her worrying about him. It was just a short scene and most people would look past it, but I think it’s these small details that really show how these movie characters tick in comparison to the series.

8. Akumas/Hawkmoth

Just a small detail that kind of ended up taking away the enjoyment of all action scenes is how the Akumas in the movie do not have a motive. There’s just some random people that you don’t care about before their akumatization and that you won’t care about after.

Hawkmoth doesn’t make a deal with them, ask for ladybug and chat noirs miraculous in exchange for his powers, none of that.

He just makes them evil and they do evil things for shits and giggles. The movies premise doesn’t even suggest he needs the miraculous. He just needs to get close enough to Ladybug and Chat Noir to steal Tikki and Plagg.

9. The Ending

I just wanted to dip into that ending real quick. In the movie, Gabriel is redeemed when he finds out about Chat Noir being Adrien. He apologizes to him and they make up. The scene surely will make people emotional, but from my perspective it was all rather predictable.

Whether or not Gabe was worthy of a redemption in the movie is a topic to discuss on its own. Personally, I was okay with it.

What I found more interesting however was…

10. The reveal

This is the moment most people have been waiting and yearning for. And I may sound a bit smug when I say that the movie served a good purpose to show us that a fast reveal would have never ever been satisfying!

It was super underwhelming because - of course it was!

Marinette and Adrien barely had a connection! For all we know they could have been total strangers and their reaction to each other’s identity wouldn’t have been any different than what we saw in the movie.

We never saw Marichat or Ladrien interact either. So that certainly lead to a less explored dynamics. Cue unsatisfying reveal.

They really tried to make it this big emotional final moment, but really? We just saw Ladybug and Chat Noir lean in for a kiss without their masks. Like in a new fit. Nothing really groundbreaking came out of it.

Any fake reveal in the show was better than that and I mean it with every fiber of my being.

And don’t even get me started on how Adrien only ever noticed Marinette when she revealed to be Ladybug. It’s just not it.

Final thoughts.

There’s sooo many more things that I could elaborate on but I think for now I’ve said enough to support my rather poor rating of the movie.

In my opinion, the movie relies too much on people enjoying the source material while trying to be its own thing. It risks leaving everyone unsatisfied.

Those who watch the movie as a stand-alone are met with weird dialogue as well as plot, characters and dynamics that aren’t at all fleshed out.

Meanwhile those who watch the movie because they like the show will be inevitably comparing the movie to its far superior source material.

[thebandghostofficial]

[MESSAGE FROM THE CLERGY]

An important (and overwinded) announcement regarding this blog below the cut.

Hello everyone! This is Rawkin Ghoul/ Tumblr Ghoul/ Tumblrina/ Soda/ etc etc.

First thing’s first: no, this blog is not an official Ghost social media account.

I started this blog in late 2022 when ghost-official started blowing up (I do not believe this one to be real either, and honestly I won’t believe they have a Tumblr until it is linked on their official website) and thought, “wow, I could make a better Ghost blog than that. One that’s way better organized and actually advertises properly for them, and posts regularly!” So I did.

Originally it was meant as just that, a little joke between some friends, and wasn’t meant to really get farther than that. But then I thought, Ghost does have a lot of fans on Tumblr- a lot of exquisitely talented and devoted fans. Maybe I can kinda “roleplay” it for a while, build almost a bit of a portfolio, and then either offer the blog to management or offer to run it for them officially, for fun, if they were interested.

More time passes and more people followed. I thought “xofficial” as a username was a common enough joke/ gimmick that people would realize it wasn’t for real (and in fact, when I first searched the URL, I found that this username was once in use years ago! Sorry, previous owner), especially after posting that April Fools joke post- this was wrong of me to assume. There are a lot of roleplay/ joke “official” Ghost accounts all over the web but I failed to really properly disclaim that I was one of them.

I of course don’t plan to reach out to Ghost anymore and haven’t for some time, for multiple reasons including Tumblr just not being a good website for advertising. But another one is I got pretty loose on here. Tumblr is so different from Twitter and Insta and all that- you guys (and myself! I go here too) don’t want to have someone sell something to you- but you do love interaction and jokes and solving things together.

I think we can all admit it- when Ghost is dormant, the fans can get bored and even agitated, and can start to have a go at eachother. I’m certainly not guiltless there either. I wouldn’t say I’m notorious or even particularly well known in general but I’ve gotten into drama here and there. I figured the blog would be a fun way not just to distract the community, but really engage with it. The blog passed 5k a month or so ago and I started thinking, we could do something really cool with it. Smaller events like fanart contests and zines. But what if we did more? Organizing pre-ritual meetups. Larger community projects like fan-made music videos. ARG. Maybe even a short video game- there are so many incredibly skilled and hard-working Ghost fans and I wanted to try to bring them together because I think our love for Ghost, for whatever reason we love them, screams so loud and everyone deserves recognition (also a reason I started Fanart Friday as a regular thing).

You guys know I do my best to keep up with your tagging and what you’re saying and everything and I’ve seen the people pointing out the blog isn’t real from the beginning- I didn’t want to address it directly at first because I thought if nothing else people enjoyed the mystery.

But, more lately there’s been more and more people who are agitated, disappointed, and even a little scared to hear that this blog is not official.

I want to offer my very sincere apologies to people who I made feel that way. I should have made it obvious sooner- I know so well that there are a lot of very young Ghost fans especially who wouldn’t necessarily surmise that this isn’t real. I’m really sorry to those of you I disappointed.

I will never ask you for money here, or any personal information, or send asks anonymous or otherwise from here or my main personal blog as “Tumblr Ghoul”. I have had one person ask to message me so I messaged them to allow them to do that. If somebody contacts you claiming to be the person running this blog, they are lying. Please block them. My interactions here I aim to keep as public as possible, hence being increasingly liberal with replies and reblogs as the number of people interacting grew.

My only goal with this blog is to advertise for a band that I love and to entertain/ help the fandom when and where I can. I love and appreciate all the fanart and interest in the character of Tumblr Ghoul but I don’t want anybody to feel obligated to me and I especially don’t want to hurt anybody. I started this blog for fun and that how I want it to remain- fun for everyone.

People pointed out when I didn’t post for some time a few months back and it was because I had lost interest in the blog and was going through a rough time- and then one particularly bad day I got on to check it by chance and just seeing your guy’s tags and comments made me feel so much better. I tell people that I found Ghost when I really needed a friend and they fulfilled that for me, but the past few months you guys have done just the same for me. I am so sorry to have betrayed that and made you feel unsafe and lied to in return.

As of posting I do intend to still run the blog as I have been (with a disclaimer added to the bio regarding the legitimacy of this account)- posting about tours, chapters, merch, etc, as well as Fanart Friday. I 100% understand if anybody doesn’t want to be involved in that, so anybody who has tagged me in something and don’t want it on the blog now, I can open messages and you can let me know. I will probably close them again after a week or so if I get a large flood of unrelated messages.

Please do not message me asking me who I am, who knows about the blog, etc. Gaining popularity was never something I wanted from this so I will stay anonymous, for the time being at the very least. A very small number of people know who is behind the blog and to my knowledge only one of them is even on Tumblr and in the fandom.

Thank you for all the support you’ve shown me, Ghost, and eachother. It can be easy to see the bad parts of a community and roll your eyes electing to keep your distance, but since starting this blog I’ve been reminded what good community is even when it’s frustrating sometimes.

Thank you for reading, I won’t hold it against anybody who wants to separate themselves from this blog at this point, and please don’t let my oversight and general dummyness sour your experience with Ghost or its other fans. Enjoy the rest of this tour and whether it’s with or without me, please keep rawking 🤘 Be good to eachother.

Thank you.

[hockeyboysimagines]

Work wife

A Vince Dunn blurb for @cellythefloshie. This is not in any way related to Fuck me like I’m famous. This is just a fun blurb we talked about brought to life.

Warnings: Sex, cheating

“There’s my work wife.”

You half turned to find Vince coming down the hallway smiling at you.

Working for the Kraken was a dream come true really.

You couldn’t actually ask for a better job, or better environment to be in. It was a tight knit group full of great people who worked hard, and got along well.

And then there was Vince.

You two had clicked from the beginning. He was easy to talk to, and you liked him a lot. The more time you spent together, the more you got to know him and the more comfortable you became with him.

Maybe too comfortable.

Which is how you wound up screaming his name one night after drinks, after the flirtation between you guys had finally boiled over and spilled into his apartment. It had been extremely awkward when you saw him on Monday, but when he caught you in the parking garage and asked to talk, you’d agreed. And that’s how it all started. Secret meetups, sneaking around, and even texts from a fake phone number, your assistant “Jessica”, to keep things under wraps. It felt both wrong, and exciting, but you just couldn’t stop. While it had started as a secret hookup, it hadn’t stayed that way. There was genuine feelings there now.

The term “work wife” had started as a joke, thrown out by a coworker of yours, who obviously had no clue what was happening behind closed doors, but it stuck. There was really only one problem with it.

You were someone’s real life wife.

The idea of Vince made your husband clearly uncomfortable in the beginning, before anything was actually going on, but there wasn’t really anything you could do about it, and you didn’t really want to either. Your husband was a good guy, but being around Vince made you realize you really didn’t have a thing in common. He was 8 years older than you, and you had married young, feeling the pressure from your family to marry someone who was financially stable. You “loved” him, but you weren’t really “In love” with him, at least not anymore. Not that you were in love with Vince either, but your feelings for him had drowned out the feelings for your husband. And beyond that, you had suspicions that he was embroiled in his own case of infidelity.

You felt really bad at first, but then he started staying late, random business trips with no warning, and you’d even found a receipt for purchased jewelry that you hadn’t received just last month. He often smelled of perfume and the lipstick you’d found on the inside of one of his shirts was a color you’d never worn. You hadn’t confronted him because you just didn’t care, and truly you had no room to talk.

It was a rock and a hard place situation that you’d landed yourself in, but the thrill of it all overrode the anxiety of being found out.

Not only would you lose your job, your respect in the work place, and your marriage, but it would also put a black mark on your career moving forward and make Vince look bad, none of which you wanted.

He made his way past you and winked, but then paused at the end of the hallway, just below a camera so he couldn’t be seen, and motioned for you to check your phone. You absently pulled out your phone, turning away from him so it looked like you just happened to get a message.

Meet me in the room.

“The room” as he called it was a vacant room in the basement of the arena that was used mostly for storage, and sat in the middle of a hallway that was void of cameras. It wasn’t ideal, but sometimes there was no other choice. There was few places you could go with him that he wasn’t recognized here, so you were limited to the room, his apartment and your place only if your husband was on a business trip out of state and even then it was risky.

You took the long way, careful not to rush, giving small glances here and there to make sure that no one was following you, and slipped into the hallway that your office was located, which conveniently also led the the hallway he was waiting for you in.

You made you way down the corridor, a set of stairs and then down to the vacant room. He was leaned against the wall, eyes moving up your bare legs and you neared him.

“Hi wifey.” He said smiling cheekily as he held the door open for you, allowing you to step inside before following you in. You gave a little shudder as the room grew dark when the door closed and you felt his hands on your waist.

“You look nice today.” He said in your ear, turning you to face him. Goddamnit he was gorgeous, even more up close. In curiosity you had done a google search of him right after you’d started working there and saw that everyone else thought that too, not to your surprise, but you were lucky enough to see all his body parts up close and personal and you felt bad for the people who didn’t get to.

“You say that to me everyday.” You ran a hand up his arm as he reached forward to press his lips against your neck.

“Well then I guess it’s true.” He said softly, hand gripping your chin as he pulled his mouth off your neck and caught your lips a very hot, wet kiss.

You felt a heat start to spread in your stomach as he backed you up against a table, tongue pushing in your mouth, cutting off your air. The way he moved his tongue against yours made your heart race, fingers gripping at your blouse, which was tucked into a pencil skirt, and pulling it loose so he could unbutton it, and hoisted you up to sit on the edge of the table. His hands, slightly rough against your skin as he reached the bottom button and ran his hands up your waist, pausing at your bra and pulling away from you.

“Is this new?” He asked breathlessly gesturing at your bra.

You nodded and watched as he reached a hand forward and ran a finger across your collarbone, down your chest to your sternum, hooking a finger in the front band and running it along your ribs.

“I bought it just for you. It matches these.” You gestured down and inched your skirt up to reveal black underwear. He smiled slowly eyes staying on them for a second before they moved back up to yours and he smiled.

“Can’t wait to take them off.” He reached down hooking a thumb on either side of them and gave them a tug, pulling them down your legs, hand coming back up your legs to pull one up underneath your knee, and to spread the other one wider, leaning you back as he eased himself into you.

Your head fell back, hair spilling off your shoulders as he pulled out and pushed back in. You felt a hand on the back of your neck as Vince pulled you up to kiss him, pushing in and out finding a rhythm. You caught his lip between your teeth, and he gave your hair a small tug, goosebumps erupting across your skin. It truly never got old feeling him inside you and his hands all over you. He brought you to highs you’d never been at before and each time was better than the one before.

He angled his hips upward and hit a spot you didn’t know existed and you cried out, biting down on your lip to stop from making too much noise. A curl at the front of his hair fell across his forehead as he picked up his pace. Your lower back was screaming in pain as it hit repeatedly on the table and you felt your legs begin to tighten and heat explode in your stomach as a crippling orgasm swept from your lower half to your upper half, Vince’s lips at your neck as it shuddered through your body and your vision went spotty. You gave a shaky breath as he slowed his pushes and let his head fall forward, breath hot on your neck. After a moment he picked his head up to look at you.

“You’re amazing.”

You blushed and pushed the curl off his forehead, as he helped you down and handed you your underwear. You gingerly pulled them back up, and took several deep breaths attempting to cool yourself down.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asked reaching a hand out to intertwine his fingers with yours “Come over after work for a little bit. What time does he get home?”

“6:30. I guess I could for a little bit.”

“Great.” He smiled widely and gave you one last short and sweet kiss before he left the room, making his way back to wherever he was planning to go and you made your way to your office, now tasked with spending the next three hours at your desk having to think about him, and what you would be getting into with him later on.

You sometimes wondered if keeping this thing you had going with him was for the worst rather than the better. How bad would it hurt to rip off the bandaid when it inevitably went south, or had to end due to whatever reasons. And what would happen if he met someone else?

Would you be cast aside? Replaced? A side piece?

You couldn’t handle that. And it wouldn’t be fair, which you knew because it wasn’t fair to him that he was currently a side piece. He didn’t seem bothered, or he was a great actor because he never spoke up about it when you asked and even managed to crack a joke about it here and there for your benefit. But it still wasn’t right. And it wouldn’t be right to drag this out knowing he should have the right to go out and meet girls without having to wonder what would happen with you and him.

You got so absorbed thinking about it, you lost track of time and nearly ended up staying past your clock out time, rushing to get out of the arena and over to Vince’s. He greeted you with his usual “wifey” at the door and pulled you inside.

After your second romp of the day, your breath evened out, you checked your phone and sighed. You pursed your lips and glanced at him.

He shook his head “Don’t say it-“

“Time to go.” you said quietly, sitting upright and grabbing your bra and blouse. You heard him sigh behind you and lean back against the headboard. It was quiet for a while as you hooked the clasp, and pulled the blouse over your shoulders. You hated this part. The afterglow wasn’t even over and you had to leave, go home and play housewife to someone you barely even had conversation with day to day. You’d not been intimate with each other in over a year, since you’d started working for the Kraken, because you were both getting it somewhere else. It felt silly to continue to live a lie.

“I think you should leave your husband.” Vince said off handedly from behind you.

You paused and turned slowly “What?” You said eyes moving up to meet his as you buttoned your blouse.

“You heard me.” He said from his spot on the bed “I said I want you to leave your husband.” He was looking at you straight faced, serious and not joking. He’d made lots of “leave your husband” jokes over the last few months, but he wasn’t kidding this time.

You gaped at him “I-Why?”

“Please.” He rolled his eyes “I think it’s pretty self explanatory. I mean if you really loved him would you even be here?” He gestured around.

He wasn’t wrong. You’d been going over this in your head for months, and you’d come to the conclusion that your husband just wasn’t it.

“Even if I would….Id have to quit for this to go any further.”

Vince pursed his lips “I mean. I can’t ask you to do that, but I do know that you should leave him. And I think you know that too.” He added quietly “I mean even without me in the picture, it wouldn’t be any different.”

He was right.

Part of why you took the job with the Kraken was to fill your time and pull yourself out of being a housewife and hanging out with all his business buddies perfect wives. Working with the Kraken gave you the freedom to do your own thing and be whoever you wanted to be, rather than locked up in that condo.

You nodded “Your right. But what about my job? I can’t be with you and work here.”

“Let’s worry about that another time. I can help you with this.” He reached forward and gripped your hand “I just really want you to be happy.”

You were quiet for a minute, eyes focused on the bedsheet as you realized this could be your one chance to get out of the mess you were in. Your one opportunity to truly change the direction of your life. Maybe things never went forward with Vince, but maybe they did. Even if they didn’t, he had given you the confidence to make changes and leave a guy you didn’t even love, and for that you would always be thankful.

“Well?” He asked after a few moments of silence.

You looked up and took a deep breath “Do you promise? To help me?”

He nodded eyes lighting up “Yes. So are we really doing this?” He looked so hopeful, leaned forward, eyes bright. It was actually making your heart hurt how beautiful he was at that moment.

You nodded “I think- I think so.”

He smiled the most beautiful, breath taking smile you’d ever seen on him, which you didn’t think was possible because they were all beautiful, but this one was different.

“This is going to change your life I promise you. I’m going to change your life. For the better.”

“You already have.”

He pulled you right back down, kissing you like he never had as you became a tangle mess of limbs and clothes and you felt like things would get better for the first time in a long time.

Maybe being a work wife wasn’t so bad.

[absgay]

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ “I still remember the moment we met, the touch that she planted, the garden she left. I guess the rain was just half that effect.” ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

words count: 1.7k

“No need to imagine, cause’ I know it’s true. They say all good girls go to heaven, but bad girls bring heaven to you.”

warnings: 18+ minors dni, angst, grammar, f*buddy!abby, college!abby, sexual tension, some jealousy, idk i’m not good at this, smut.

part one, part two, next part.

Fuck this, fuck them, fuck her. You didn’t want to see Abby Anderson ever again, you didn’t want to talk about her or think about her either. It started with a basic conversation between two young women in the bathroom, comments, intrusive questions, then came the facts and revelations, the ugly truth.

“Idiot— So stupid.” you murmured as you went down the stairs. You needed some time to digest it, some space. Unfortunately, the universe didn’t seem to be on your side today. “Shit.”

“Hey, sweetheart!” Abby shouted as she stood in the hallway. Great timing, great, great, great. The blond’s enthusiasm died as you headed to your room without a word.

You weren’t surprised but frustrated as she followed you. Leave me alone, go away, fuck off. You looked down and sighed, you didn’t feel tough enough to confront her. “I don’t wanna talk to you, Abby.”

“Okay…” She responded with an uncertain tone. You felt small, naive and weak as an intense sadness stabbed your heart. “At least, tell me why or what happened to—” Abby’s gorgeous blue eyes widened as you kicked the door. “Hey— Stop.”

She seemed genuinely worried as you unlocked it, after the second try. She spinned you around by the wrist, asking questions, trying to understand what was going on with you.

“Did something happen or—”

“I don’t know, you tell me.” you managed to say after a few seconds, even though you were overwhelmed by your own emotions as they all fought together. “I feel so dumb, Abby— I thought things were different between us, I thought I was different and—” Don’t cry, don’t cry, not now. “But it’s not, because you fucked Nancy at this stupid party and then came to the library, flirted with me and decided it’d be fun to fuck me as well. You know what— You’re no better than the others, you’re nothing more than an asshole who pretends to be nice and to have morals so she doesn’t have to face any consequences.” Outch.

Abby didn’t say anything at first, shocked and confused. It was a nightmare, it couldn’t be real, you weren’t actually mad at her, right? She swallowed hard, your words and tone held so much disappointment and hatred, it fuckin’ hurt.

“I— I’m gonna be late for practice.” She turned around, ready to leave but at the last minute, decided to take another look at you. “I don't know what she told you, what you heard or whatever but I pulled away as soon as Nancy kissed me.” Abby said. “You’re the reason I went there in the first place. I came and left with only one thing in mind, you.”

You almost called the blond’s name as she walked away, almost. You shouldn’t have said that, any of it. You stood in the hallway and listened as Abby slammed the door hard on her way out, heart heavy and thoughts racing.

“Do you remember how you two first met?” Your roommate asked. She was looking at you from across the room, seated at her desk. “God— You were so angry.” She laughed.

Yes, unfortunately. It started back in autumn. You were in bed, complaining, groaning and turning around endlessly as music blasted from someone else’s room, once again.

“Where are you going? Hey— Trust me, it’s not worth it.” Your roommate had said to you. “They’ll stop eventually.” You didn’t listen and headed to the stranger’s room with determination.

You knocked once, twice, thrice, the music stopped. You looked around the hallway as you waited, ready to argue with whoever lived here. But as the stranger opened the door, you stepped back, captivated by the attractive blond woman standing right in front of you.

“Oh— Hey.” she said. “Can I help you?”

She looked really, really, too good. “Yes.” But, you couldn’t let the woman’s appearance distract you though, attractive or not: she was still annoying. “Shut down the music and let us get some fuckin’ sleep.”

She smiled, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t think we’ve met before.” You sighed at the blond’s flirtatious tone. “I’m Abby.”

“And I’m exhausted.” She huffed, chuckled even as you stood there, frustrated by her reaction. “I’m serious, shut it down.”

Abby leaned towards you with a smirk. “Sure— Anything for you.” Then, she stepped back and shut the door in your face.

Your mouth dropped. “What the—” She had turned the music back on. “Fine.”

From then on, you annoyed each other on a daily basis. On some random monday night, she’d decide to play with your nerves by blasting music until one in the morning. On tuesday, you’d tell everyone she has chlamydia. An immature game you both secretly enjoyed at the time.

One evening, as you were coming back from a friend’s party, you saw a woman leaving Abby’s room, once again.

“Neighbour.” Abby nodded at you. “Nice dress.”

“Dickhead.” She chuckled softly as you stood in front of her, arms crossed and thighs pressed together, the blond’s eyes lingering over your bare legs. “Well— You must be exhausted after your fifth dick appointment of the day.” It sounded bitter, which made you regret it instantly, your stomach twisted in jealousy and embarrassment.

She hummed, amused. “Yeah...” Abby stretched exaggeratedly, then flexed her biceps as you rolled your eyes. “But don’t worry about it, I can ruin my sleep schedule and add a sixth one for you.”

“How thoughtful. I’m gonna have to decline the offer though. You see, I’d rather get some sleep than chlamydia.”

Abby frowned. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Why does everybody keep saying that? I don’t have chla—” You chuckled and looked away. “Oh, I see— You’re truly something else.” Abby said. “Now, there’s better ways to get my attention.”

“Right.” You snorted at the blond’s face. “My mission in life.”

Abby huffed and leaned towards you. “Okay— Listen to me, smart-ass. I’d fuck you so good, you’d see stars.” She hummed, looking down at your parted lips. “Yeah— I’m sure your pretty mouth would feel good on mine. You’d sound so sweet moaning and screaming my name, needy little brat.”

Your heart stopped, time stopped. You couldn’t think straight anymore. It was unexpected, bold and so hot. Flustered, you remained silent in shock as Abby looked at you attentively, trying to decode your features. The blond’s face was so close to yours, yet so far away.

“Admit it— You want me.”

“What, no— You want me.”

“I do.” Abby confessed. “And— I must be an actual masochist, because you’re a pain in the ass, sweetheart.”

You hummed, swallowed hard, your cheeks flushed, knees weak, panties soaked as she stared at you with such nasty, hungry eyes. Fuck, calm down.

To be honest, you didn’t want to deny the sexual tension between you two anymore. It was an unwanted attraction built on curiosity and frustration, heated conversations at midnight, arguments in class, flirty comments at lunch, short glanced at parties, unanswered questions as you both secretly wondered: What if? How would it feel? How would it be? Gentle, rough, passionate? So many possibilities, so many hidden feelings, so much desire.

Unfortunately, as much as you wanted to know, as much as your body ached for hers, you didn’t wanna be one of these women, the one who leaves the blond’s room in the early morning glow and hopes she’ll call them back soon, because she never does.

“I don’t wanna be your sixth dick appointment of the day.” You stepped back.

She sighed. “Well— Technically, it’s past midnight, which means you’d be the first one today.”

You chuckled and shook your head as she smiled. “Goodnight, Anderson.”

“Goodnight.”

You turned around to head back to your own room, emotionally wrecked by the blond’s last few words. Luckily, Abby didn’t want you to leave, wouldn’t let it happen, not so easily, not like that. You yelped as she grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into a kiss, your eyes widening, your body collapsing against hers.

“Fuck— I’m sorry.” Abby breathed. “I should’ve asked you first. I didn’t mean to— I thought we were— I don’t know.” She sounded so nervous, it surprised you. “Say something.”

Shit. A one-night stand couldn’t hurt, right? You needed to feed your curiosity somehow. “This is a one time thing.” you murmured, the blond dragging you into the dark room instantly as you responded.

Abby moaned softly as you pushed her against the nearest wall, your body overwhelmed by lust, the heat rushing down to your stomach as you kissed the blond passionately for the first time. Abby’s hands moved down to your ass, rough palms and thick fingers disappearing underneath your dress with eagerness.

“Shit—” you breathed in shock, the blond’s hands ripping apart your panties as she groaned against your neck, like an animal. “No, no— These were brand new— I fuckin’ hate you.”

You moaned and pulled at Abby’s braid, eyes closed and head falling backwards as she kissed your shoulder, then bit it. “Oh, Yeah— Do you wanna fight about it?”

“I do.” you whispered back.

Abby sat against the headboard as you lay between her thighs, your back pressed against her bare chest. She moved one hand down to your stomach and smiled as you whined in anticipation, eyes glancing at the blond’s hand approaching your inner thigh. Abby’s fingers moved across your clit teasing it, her mouth dropping as she sensed how wet you were for her.

“Please.” you murmured, frustrated. “Please—”

Abby’s second hand covered your mouth as she touched you, fingering you hard and fast, your moans and whines muffled, your own hands gripping on the woman’s veiny arms.

“Look at me.” Abby murmured with a serious tone. “Oh, fuck— You’re so pretty, so good for me.” You whined at her words, looking up at Abby with bright eyes, your mascara ruined by the sweat and tears. “See— I knew you’d love it."

“Abby— Fuck.” you cried between short breathes as the blond’s hand went from your mouth to your throat. “I’m— I’m—” She added pressure, smirking.

“That’s it, that’s it— Fuck, sweetheart— Come for me.”

Yes. You remember the quiet hallway, the rain, the sunrise as you headed out quietly, the shy glances and smiles you both shared at the door. Abby’s hands catching your waist, the blond’s lips capturing yours as she held you tight one last time, before letting you go.

Yes, you remembered it all too well.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

next part.

[luveline]

Hello!! For the zombie au, I would love to see something (no pressure at all tho - I love you and any of your writing regardless ❤️❤️) where the reader gets overwhelmed at the camp and goes off on her own for a bit, causing Steve to go absolutely insane with worry in the meantime. Totally up to you whether something dangerous actually happens or not. Thanks a ton either way!!

thank you for your request! i didn’t make him as worried as I could’ve potentially so please request again if this isn’t quite what you meant! zombie au steve x fem!reader

There are three different children having tantrums at breakfast. You wince at the sound, hands at your knees and squeezing, looking for relief. You have a headache the size of Mount Everest, in the midst of recovery from a cold that had you weak with fever and aching, and this isn't what you'd pictured when you crawled out of your tent this morning. 

Steve had been snoring, and Robin's newly adopted cat had been restless, climbing up and down your bodies like you were nothing more than lumpy pillows, and combined with your headache it had been a little too much to bear. Rather than wake either of them to amend their problems, you saw no harm in getting up for a walk and a moment's respite in the small communal area of camp near the fire pit. 

The fire hasn't been lit. For a while you'd all operated on nocturnal time, worried your smoke trail would attract the unkind, but it hasn't been a feasible plan to stay that way with so many young children living in the commune. These days you make very small fires when you need to warm food or boil water, and you try to stick to dry wood to minimise the amount of smoke. 

You're not sure what's causing the tantrums, perhaps they're setting each other off, but things are starting to get too much for a second time. Without a friend at your side, it's easy to fall into despair. You're sick without medicine, you've been sleeping on the floor outdoors for weeks and it's making you incredibly sore. The children are here and alone and most of them are orphans now because the unspeakable happened and it keeps on happening. Your life is a tragedy novel, the situation is dismal, and you're not sure life is ever going to get better. 

You stand up and walk for the river. The sound of rushing water will cover everything else, at the least, and there's a tree you can climb with minimal effort, a branch you can perch on that's high enough that nothing can reach you while you're overstimulated and distracted.

Today could be a good day. You need to clear your head first, is all. 

—

Steve frowns at the empty blankets beside him. He'd prefer you didn't leave without waking him, 'cos he won't be able to breathe properly until he knows you're okay. He wishes he lived in a world —that you all did— where you could go wherever you liked without telling him and he wouldn't need to worry. He hates that he needs to know where you are. 

He wiggles his toes in his shoes, trying to wake them up as he stands from the tent and casts his gaze over the camp. There's a little boy crying near the single fold out table they have. A man scoops him up and starts to rub his back, shushing him. A gaggle of girls laugh beside a small fire, camping pans and cans of soup in tongs held over the flames. Dustin and Will are already up, coming back from the river with a bucket between them. 

"Hey," Steve says, jogging up to them. He looks around. "Seen Y/N?" 

"She wasn't by the river," Will says.

"But we caught you guys a fish," Dustin says. 

Steve looks down into the bucket, where a few smaller carp lie dead. "Oh, nice going. You didn't stab them, right?" 

"We're humane," Dustin says. "You have to debone your own. We're not doing all the work." 

Steve pats his shoulder. "Hey, thanks. Just as soon as I find Y/N." 

He doesn't find you soon. You aren't at the campfire. You aren't in the general area surrounding it. You aren't in someone else's tent, and he's sure they all think he's a control freak for checking. 

He tries to calm down. Chances are you needed the bathroom and wanted privacy. He isn't freaking out, he isn't freaking out, really, he's just– he's thinking logistically, because nothing good happens where he can't see you. 

Steve turns in a frantic circle, eyes everywhere, searching for your hair, your big coat. 

He's about to admit defeat and start shouting your name when you chirp up from behind him. "Hey, handsome. Fancy seeing you here."

He turns, sees you all in one piece in your big warm coat, your clean face shimmering with damp. 

"Oh," he says, feeling like he's been punched, "those losers lied to me. You were by the river?" 

You trudge over long grass to nudge him. "Just for a bit. My head was hurting. I saw them catching fish for a while, they're pretty good, but don't blame them, I don't think they knew I was there." 

"Idiots," he says, not meaning it. His head is pounding. "Why, where were you?" 

"Sitting on the 'dangerous' tree branch." 

He takes your shoulders into his hands. He can see you preparing for a kiss, your eyes closing slowly, your chin lifting just a little. Newsflash! You made him worry and now you're climbing up trees. He shakes you gently, and when it doesn't upset you, he shakes you more. You laugh infectiously and let your head loll back and forth. You don't ask him to stop, but he feels bad, and he hugs you rather than scramble your brains any further. 

"You have a conniption?" you ask into his neck. 

"Maybe." 

"Sorry, honey," you say, which is funny and sweet, because it's the name he always gives you. 

He rubs your back. "Hmm. I should give you a speech on not wandering off along and unnecessary risks." 

"Don't do that." 

"No, I'm going to, actually." 

He sits you by the fire and makes breakfast. The speech isn't a speech, really, just an excuse to talk at you, thankful that he still can. You give him all the meatballs from the weird canned spaghetti and he starts to forgive you for the heart attack. You wipe a dab of spaghetti sauce off of his lip with your thumb before giving him a peck, and he forgets what he was talking about in the first place.

[alalaya2]

Decided to continue this enjoy

Part 2 Ecto hits the fan

While Tim found the hornet nest that would cause the JL to be up in arms ready to attack the United States government . There was a town in the west of Huntington ky on the ohio side of the river in Amity Park. The young King was looking up at the night sky he was floating high enough that most Ecto weapons wont hit him and if any GIW had a jet packs he would hear them coming with enough time to get away.

He had just turned 16 today and Clockwork has finally told him that he was now the king of the infinite realm. Things were going to happen soon and fast the realms themselves were gearing for war. If things didn’t change soon. Then he, as the king, would have to lead them to battle.

Danny closed his eyes let the light of the stars shine over him. It was getting harder to keep both the humans and ghosts safe from the GIW. They didn’t care who they hurt Star and Wes were still in the hospital from when a stray shot from agent O nearly killed them. If Danny had been a second late they would’ve been crushed by the tree Agent O had shot down. As it was Wes had a broken arm and Star had broken 4 ribs while both of them had a concussion.

Last year his entire class had discovered his identity after an incident with Vlad. They had all started to help him because members of team Phantom. His parents had interrupted Boxy’s and Lunch Lady’s bonding ceremony and now admitted that ghosts were sentient and not all ghosts were evil. He finally told him that he was a halfa two months ago so things were going well at the home front at least.

While his personal life was getting better it didn’t change the fact that he was not ready to be a king and he didn’t want to go to war. Phantom opened his eyes looking at a satellite and wondering if it was the Famous watchtower. Most of the tower had tried to contact the JL many times his first year as a hero. They had thought that the first time was a prank call and by the next call the GIW had started to put up an informal barricade. No other calls had gotten through.

Tucker had hacked their system and found out that by the end of the first year. No information about the ghost were available to anyone outside of Amity and anyone who was in Amity was heavily edited to the rest of the world Amity Parker’s didn’t exist. Danny’s first thought was to fly up to the watchtower himself and tell them what was happening. Sam had stopped him while Amity wasn’t public knowledge the Anti-Ecto acts were publicly available. This either meant they knew and agreed with them or they didn’t know and we’re being kept in the dark. Now he couldn’t leave even if he wanted to it was too dangerous for his people for him not to be around.

His ghost senses went off and he sighed. His rouges had been getting better at not being destructive but The GIW were also out. He looked down to see Ellie running from the GIW. protective rage thrummed through his core

Not My Daughter

He took off like a shot his core screamed as he saw Ellie take a shot to the back. Ectoplasm seeping down her back as she was still trying to get away.

“Papa!” She cried out as she saw him coming.

Dani now called Ellie had finally stabilized and had created a parent- child bond with him. He could feel the echo of pain from that bond.

“Ellie” he cried out looking at the GIW he noticed the had a net. “Ellie look out” he pushed her out of the way the net wrapped around him and a high electric current went through the net. The last thing he saw before passing out was Wulf grabbing Ellie and taking her to safety

[hs-is-loml]

Baby Honey. (c.f)

“And I swear that I'm not thinkin' 'bout you all the time. Just today, yesterday, every day, and tomorrow night”

Pairing: Conrad Fisher x Fem!Reader

Summary: you and conrad have a complicated relationship but that doesn’t stop him from keeping you on his mind. But will you forgive him after what happened? (PART ONE OF TWO)

Warnings: this one is a bit angsty but it'll get better between them in part two i promise!! sorry for any grammar errors

masterlist - part two Only Angel.

Last Summer 

“Conrad, I’m not doing this shit anymore,” you said in frustration.

“Do what, Y/N? You have a part in this just as much as I do,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, Conrad, because I care for you.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t,” he muttered.

“Fine.”

It had been a while since you last spoke with Conrad Fisher at the debutante ball. Frankly, it bothered you what happened the last time you saw each other. You came back to Cousins after visiting colleges for your older sister expecting to talk to Conrad again but no. He was wrapped around Nicole and pushed you to the side. 

You couldn’t believe how much of a hypocrite he had become. After saying a lot of shit on debutante balls and how the girls that did them were sheep, he was escorting one of those girls. It was your sister’s year to be a big sister to one of the girls so your family took attendance at the ball. Your heart felt like it split into two seeing Conrad Fisher be announced as an escort.

Before leaving to go visit colleges, you and Conrad had an argument over him not being ready for a relationship but he wanted the things it came with. Conrad Fisher took your heart from a young age from his charming blue eyes to his alluring personality. You and Conrad started a friend-with-benefits situation at the beginning of the summer with you thinking that this would be enough for you. But it never was. 

Conrad knew he messed up the second you walked away from him that night. He never meant to hurt you but he wasn’t enough for you. At the time he couldn’t be what you needed from a person in a relationship. When you left last summer, he didn’t expect to see you again when he accepted Nicole's invitation to be her escort. He needed to get you off his mind. You swarmed every thought he’s had since that night. 

Even his family seemed disappointed in him for stupidly letting the girl go. Susannah remembered the days when she would talk to Laurel and your mom about how their girls were destined for her boys. Jeremiah and Belly always seemed to have a connection from early on always being stuck to each other’s hip. Everyone always knew that you and Conrad would end up together or at least hoped. You brought out the best in Conrad when nobody else could. You made him laugh in the best ways possible. They were truly rooting for you two but noticed that the night at the debutante ball something shifted between you two. 

You two no longer went to go hang out or spend time down at the beach. It was like you completely stopped talking to him in general. Nobody ever had the nerve to ask either of you what happened between you two. Some thought you had just grown from each other though others knew it was beyond that.

“Mom, do I have to do this?” you questioned as you tried on what seemed like the hundredth dress during this fitting. 

“Yes, aren’t you excited to be a deb?” she asked softly.

“A deb without a date, mom,” you said bitterly.

“Who knows maybe you’ll find somebody. You still have time, okay. If not we can figure something out,” she replied back fixing the back of your dress.

This one took your breath away looking at yourself in the mirror. You never remembered a time when you felt as beautiful as you did now. You turned to face your mom and her eyes looked at you in full admiration.

“Oh, Darling, you are truly gorgeous. Always have been,” you hear from the other side of the room surprised to see Susannah here with Laurel and Belly. Your cheeks turn bright red from the compliment. 

“Thank you, Susannah,” you told her.

“Hey, Beck,” your mom greeted from beside you.

“Y/n, you look beautiful,” Belly turned to you in a dress as well.

“As do you, Belly,” you replied.

As all the moms caught up with each other, they agreed to do lunch together wanting to spend more time with one another. This gave you time to talk to Belly as well. You hadn’t talked to each other in a while and it was nice to get updates on what was going on with her life since the last time you saw her. She told you about her Cam and Jeremiah situation and how she finally came to her senses when she decided to be with Jeremiah. Which didn’t surprise you in the way she thought it would. It was something everyone already saw coming. 

You updated her on your life as well telling her how you’ve been applying for Colleges already hoping to get into Yale for business. Though it would be a while before you did a final decision on where you wanted to go and where you would get accepted in. 

“How do you feel about this whole thing?” she asked you referring to the ball.

“Anxious but excited. I’ve seen my sister’s rehearsals and what she had to do before so I’m hoping it’s a similar experience, you know,”

“I forgot about your sister doing this whole thing last summer. She was a big sis, right?”

“Yeah, she was. Too bad I’m a year too late for her to be here,” you admitted.

“Did you already find a date for the ball?”

“No, I’m still figuring that out.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone in time,” she said with a grin.

“Oh, she was absolutely beautiful in that dress wasn’t she, Belly?” Susannah spoke grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Yeah, I hope she picks that one. She said that she has one more shop to visit before deciding, but I think that was the one.”

“The one, what?” Conrad asked walking into the room.

“Oh, a dress,” Susannah replied.

“You found your dress already, Belly? That was quick,” he said as he turned his attention towards her.

“No, not me. We saw Y/n at the shop we went to today and she had this stunning dress on!” Belly answered excitedly wanting a reaction from Conrad.

“Oh.”

“You should’ve seen her, Connie. She looked unbelievably gorgeous in the dress,” Susannah gushed.

“She always is,” he muttered under his breath. 

“What was that, hun?” Susannah asked even though she fully heard what he said.

“Yeah, what’d you say Conrad?” Belly teased.

“Nothing, never mind,” he noted as Susannah walked out of the room.

 “Whatcha guys talking about?” Jeremiah questioned coming into the room and sitting next to Belly by the counter.

“Just Y/n,” Belly answered.

“Oh, yeah my friend was talking about her at the club yesterday,” Jeremiah replied.

“About what?” Conrad spoke in interest.

“Not much. He’s another lifeguard at the pool and how he wanted her number,” Jere shrugged. Belly stared at the glass of water that was under Conrad’s tightening grip as Jeremiah spoke.

“You will be seated at table two next to Isabel and Shayla,” Paige directed me to my seat. 

‘Oh kill me now,’ you thought when you saw who exactly was at the table. It was as if the world hated you, sitting at a table with girls you knew were all gossip and something up their ass. Good thing you at least had Belly.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you’re here,” Belly said as you took a seat next to her. 

“Me too, Bells.”

“Please tell me you picked the dress already,” she pleaded.

“Matter of fact, I did… And yes, it was the one you saw,” you smiled.

“Yes!” as she exclaimed it brought the attention of the other girls.

“So Belly, how is it living with Jeremiah and Conrad?” one of the girls asks her moving on from the interaction from before.

“What do you mean?” Belly asked not really understanding what they were actually asking.

“You know like I heard you and Jeremiah were a thing before,” another one said to Belly jealously.

“She still is,” I voiced out.

“So, what I’m getting is that Conrad is still up for grabs though?” a different girl butts into the topic. 

“I don’t know, Conrad is pretty quiet when it comes to him liking someone,” Belly answered. 

“Hey, Y/N! Do you think you could come over today? I need advice on a couple things and I think you’re probably the best person to talk to about them,” Belly asks me as we walk out of the brunch. You hesitated in your answer seeing that Belly had a mischievous grin on her face.

“Oh, Belly I don’t know…” you trailed off.

“Pleaseee?” she pleaded.

“What do you even need help for?”

“I picked out my dress for the ball but I still need to make a couple decisions before everything is final,” Belly said excitedly as we walked out of the club.

“Wouldn’t Susannah be better for this?” you say trying to make an excuse.

“Yeah but I miss spending time with you,” she said looking back at me. 

“Okay.”

You forgot the comfort the Fisher house brought somebody the second you walked in. It was as if Susannah Fisher embedded memories in every wall and decoration as you walked to Belly’s room. You passed Conrad’s room and were thankful the door was shut as you walked by. You didn’t know if you were ready to face him again. 

Hours had passed and you forgot the laughter that comes to this house. You and Belly had spent much time with each other before the accidental meeting at the dress shop. You missed her. Granted you missed quite a lot of people in this house whether you would admit that out loud or not. That was until he walked into the room.

“Belly, your mom wants you downstairs before dinner,” Conrad told her as he continued to mindlessly scroll on his phone.

You took notice of his hair being longer than before and took in his tall structure before you realized you were staring. You turned your attention to Belly who had the biggest smirk on her face. As if she had something planned. 

“Okay, Conrad. Do you mind staying for dinner, Y/N?” as your name fell from Belly’s mouth, Conrad looked up from his phone seeing you in the room looking at Belly with what seemed like a murderous glare. 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you say making eye contact with Conrad.

“Oh, come on, you know damn well Susannah and Jere want to talk to you,” Belly responded looking back to you and Conrad. 

“I’ll let mom know to set an extra plate,” Conrad spoke as he walked out of the room.

“Belly, what was that for?” you yelled to her quietly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shrugged heading downstairs.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m glad you’re here! I almost didn’t believe Conrad when he told me” Susannah said pulling you into a hug as you walked into the kitchen.

“Thank you for having me.”

“You’re always welcomed here,” she replied as she pressed a hand against your cheek motherly.

Now you knew they were trying to conduct some sort of plan. When you saw the only other open seat at the table was next to Conrad. But you decided to not put much thought into it as you took your seat.

“Y/N!” Jeremiah said surprised.

“Hey, Jere.”

“So I was talking with your mom on the phone earlier and she said you already applied to some universities?” Laurel questioned as everyone ate quietly turning their attention to you.

“Yeah, I did. Hopefully, I can add this whole debutante ball thing on my applications still,” you joked.

“Oh! About that beautiful dress, did you get it?” Susannah asked brightly.

“I did.”

“Sweetheart, you are going to be gorgeous in that dress,” she complimented as your cheeks turned bright red blushing.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“Y/N, my friend wants to know if he could get your number? He’s one of the other lifeguards at the club,” Jeremiah said teasingly looking toward Conrad. Who seemed very focused on his food and had a death grip on his fork.

“Jere, I don’t know…” you trailed.

“Oh, you could do better than some pool boy, Y/N,” Conrad said bitterly. The light chatter that had built around the table completely fell silent when the boy spoke out.

“Excuse me?” you replied in disbelief.

“You heard me.”

“Okay, so how’s your college admissions, Steven?” you said wanting to move on from the topic.

You stayed at the house longer wanting to help clean up. Everyone seemed to split except Conrad who was also cleaning up the table. You felt the awkward tension building in the air and it made you uneasy. Both of you waiting for the other to speak out before talking.

“Conrad, what was that about?” you referred to the dinner.

“Nothing.” 

“Oh that’s bullshit and you know it,” you scoffed.

“Y/n, get over yourself,” he replied taking the dishes to the sink.

“No, Conrad because you shouldn’t care about that stuff.” as you gathered the cups.

“Okay, but I do,” he said as you walked next to him by the sink to set them down.

“Then stop.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the one who wanted to end things between us, Conrad,” you snapped harshly.

“This isn’t about us.”

“Then why else do you care?” 

“I don’t.”

“You obviously do after what you said at dinner.”

“Just dropped it, Y/n.” as he grabbed a beer from the fridge opening it.

“No, Conrad. You cannot dictate who I choose to talk to in life just because you decided I wasn’t enough for you.” you said as your voice cracked.

“Don’t say that. When you know it’s not true.” he said putting down the beer looking back at you.

“You never even gave me a reason so my fault for assuming,” you said resentfully. 

“It was my fault and we both know it,” he voiced out. 

[harry-styles-obsessed]

All yours

Tw's: mention of depression, and thoughts of self harm- (based on Harry's song- Matilda) if you're uncomfortable/ sensitive with any of those things please do not read on. (I am not sure whether I posted this or not but I found it in my drafts so… I’m guessing I didn’t. Either way enjoy!)

©️please do not copy or translate my work

You were never okay. Not really. You were exhausted constantly. You had been to countless doctors all telling you the same thing "we don't want you to go on the pill for your emotions- you're too young. It won't have any benefits to you." It was continuous and it was a massive pain in the ass. It wasn't fair. It was in fact incredibly unfair. But again you were struggling, you wanted nothing more than to feel free and happy.

No one really noticed, everyone asked whether you were okay and when you'd lie they wouldn't even ask again... but you always shrugged it off assuring yourself that it just proved how good of a liar you were but deep down you had a horrid feeling. A horrible one... that no one cared.

Everything you said and did was a cry for help practically and no one really seemed to realise that or well... no one you'd think of.

It was a mass of events that lead to your emotional problems, a lot of things. People told you to let it go but you simply couldn't. You couldn't escape the way the depressive side of you held you captive. You felt dead inside. Literally. You had given up hope.

Harry was a close friend of yours but you rarely saw him due to him being on tour constantly, but you were proud of him. He was doing amazing. But that didn't mean you didn't miss him. You missed him so much. You were however always afraid to see him because however much you didn't want to admit it he could see right through your "happy" facade. He wasn't dumb and neither were you. You knew you could talk to him but you still didn't want to bother him whilst he had fun.

~

"Y/n!" Your mum shouted up the stairs to you and you put your phone down on the bedside table before getting up "coming!"

You made your way downstairs and practically froze, your eyes widening, your heart pounding. He wasn't supposed to be home for a year! "Harry?" You cried out ecstatically throwing yourself into his arms holding onto him tightly, the slight height difference between the both of you forcing you to stand on your tippy toes to hold onto him tightly, his arms which remained wrapped around your waist lifted you up as you held onto him tight not daring to let go of him, squeezing your eyes shut as you simply smiled. You had your best friend back. This was the happiest you had been in forever.

"I've got you" he whispered with a warm smile as he rocked you back and forth in his embrace, his arms which remained around you tightened ever so slightly to make sure you knew he was right there and wasn't going anywhere "she's missed you" your mum informed him into which he beamed happily "I missed her more." He murmured but you barely listened too preoccupied with the fact that you were in his arms once again. And you were safe. Little sniffles were the only sound that was heard from you and with every little cry Harry seemingly tightened his grip on you, supporting you further, he didn't dare let go of you as he pressed little kisses to your temple. "Feel free to take her upstairs and spend some quality time together yeah?"

Harry must've nodded as before you knew it he had lifted you up into his arms and was carrying you up the stairs. He was with you and you were with him. That's all that mattered now.

~

"So how are you?" He asked sitting on the centre of your bed as he held your hands in his, he knew you liked physical contact as it assured you so he kept a hold of your hands "I'm okay but I'm better now that you're here" you said with a soft smile and he tilted his head to the side ever so slightly "c'mon. I know you y/n..." he said and you looked into his eyes before sighing softly "I guess i haven't been too good" you said and he frowned slightly "mentally?" He asked and you nodded once again "yeah, doctors said they'd prescribe me with pills but never did saying I was too young" you murmured and he frowned before scoffing "they always say that. It's silly." He sighed before giving your hands a squeeze "tell me, what have you been feeling? Upset? Angry? Anxious?" He put out a small list and you exhaled "honestly a muddle of all those things" you admitted, his eyes softening as he sighed "oh darling" he whispered before pulling you into his arms so you were flailed out onto his chest his arms securing around you "it's okay to not be okay you know that right?" He asked and you nodded slightly "I know but...." You hesitated and he hummed assuring you to continue "you're the only thing and person that makes me okay..." you admitted looking into his eyes as he searched your face for anything as he sighed gently "oh y/n." He softly spoke his fingertips lightly trailing against your cheek. After a few moments he pulled back "do you want to hear one of my unreleased songs? It'll cheer you up?" He suggested and you smiled nodding "yes I'd love to" you murmured sitting back watching as he got his phone out and after a few moments he looked at you smiling "okay ready? This one's calling Matilda"

~

As you listened to the song your heart started pounding harder, your breathing becoming slightly unsteady along with the tears starting to form in your eyes. The song resonated with you and you resonated with it... it hurt your heart... you were able to relate to it so very much.

As you tried to subtly wipe away a tear Harry gently wrapped his arm around you pulling you into his embrace "you can let it go" he whispered into your ear as the melodic music continued to play, soothing you almost. As the song came to a stop you looked into his eyes "it's beautiful" you said and he smiled "thank you... want to know where I got the idea to write this song from?" He asked and you looked into his eyes "the actual Matilda movie?" You asked and he let out a gentle chuckle "nope... it's about a beautiful girl who doesn't realise how amazing she is" he said as you nodded listening to him "so all the fans then?" You suggested again and he smiled before shaking his head "no.... Okay want a clue?"

You nodded slightly and he hummed, thinking, before smiling "the girl I wrote the song about... well... her name is y/n and I'm looking right at her" he said making your stomach flutter with butterflies. This song was about you? Impossible... no way.

"I know how much you struggle... so I decided whilst on tour why not put together a song that you and everyone else could resonate with" he said softly and you quickly lurched into his arms wrapping your limbs around him tightly not daring to let go of him "thank you...." You whispered and he shook his head "just doing what a friend does." He said quietly laying back as he pulled you closer to him and you didn't dare let go of him

~

The next few days were good... great! But it was nearing the time Harry had to go back to tour again and as selfish as it sounded you didn't want him to go.

"Is there anything that you fear?" He suddenly asked out of the blue and you looked into his eyes "um, kinda... mainly worried about life.... Friends.... Not being able to see you for weeks, months, years" you admitted with a shrug and he nodded smiling at you "what if you didn't have to fear that last one?" He asked and you furrowed your brows "what?"

A mischievous grin tugged at his lips as he suddenly pulled a suitcase from beside him "your mum packed all your things..... you're coming on tour with me!" He said as you looked at your mum for confirmation as she simply nodded smiling and you let out a shriek of happiness before rushing to him wrapping your arms around him tightly "we can catch up on all the time we lost together, yeah?" He suggested and you nodded your head "I'd love that...." You said and he smiled happily

"Oh,"

You looked at him waiting for him to continue

"And one last thing" he said and you nodded about to say something but before you could he cut you off by pressing his lips to yours in a gentle but passionate kiss as you held onto him tighter, before he slowly pulled away grinning...

"I am all yours"