#to be fair she wouldn't even bare her teeth

[vullcanica]

Characters baring a mouth full of sharp fangs as show of aggression is top tier but can we talk about how sinister a flash of smooth square omnivore teeth can be. The implications therein? The difference between facing a carnivore vs a member of the terrifyingly, aptly named 'opportunistic eaters'? The fear of being on one's menu, the knowledge that you are on the other's - no matter what you are. The inherent danger of a threat display where there are set rules to avoiding harm turning into a hunt on a dime.

Anyway, thinking about Nikodemus and how beautifully all of this translates into his supernatural setting...

[tojirights]

fem!reader with a size kink and alastor just teases her about it. It starts off innocently before angel dust just teases and teases her about it until alastor decides to have fun with it.

a/n: this is prolly very ooc alastor but uhhhh this is fun sooo 🩷

word count: too many i don't even know

tags: 18+ smut nsfw, alastor has a big dick, unprotected sex, alastor cums a lot, slight cervix fucking (?), teasing

alastor first notices your inclination for pointing out he's much larger than you when you're always grabbing his hand. he easily covers your hand with his and it gives you butterflies every time. you think he doesn't notice your flushed cheeks, but alastor keeps a close eye on your emotions. he likes to make little snide comments but other than that, it's mostly harmless.

it evolves into him coming up behind you and resting his arms on the top of your head with ease, barely even straightening his back to do so. "hey!" you whine, crossing your arms over your chest. "im not an arm rest, y’know?" alastor just laughs, tugging gently on your hair to pull your head back. your eyes meet his, and your body tenses. the look he gives you is intoxicating, the way he easily peers over you makes you want to shrink into him and let him envelop you.

"yer not?" angel chirps in, breaking you from your daydream. "coulda fooled me. thought you were a coat rack, especially the way you hang onto mr tall dark 'n handsome over there like ya life depends on it." you gasp at his words, immediately trying to put distance between you and alastor but his arm hooks around your waist. "h-hey this isn't fair..." you huff, but alastor's chest is warm against your back and it's making your head fuzzy. "you like 'em big, dont'cha sweetie?" angel snickers, enjoying the way your cheeks go bright red.

all you can do is wiggle around in alastor's grasp until he lets you flip around and face him. you waste no time in burying your face in his chest, hiding the pure embarrassment written all over it. "oh come now angel, the poor girl can only take so much." he laughs when you put your fist to his chest. "i bet she can take more than you think..... alright i'm done i swear!" angel leaves the room cackling, too proud of himself. "alastor... please..." you sigh, your face still pressed against his chest.

he lets out a soft chuckle before petting your head. "just a little friendly teasing, hm?" he steps away to give you some much needed air. "i wouldn't want to break you, my dear." alastor all but pouts, making you audibly groan. you can't take it anymore, the desire burning a hole straight through you. you grab his hand and drag him from the hotel lobby into your own room of the hotel.

closing the door to your room, you're about to speak when alastor surprises you by pinning you to the door. "you want to be broken, hm?" his voice, shrouded in static makes your skin crawl and your heart rate pick up. "i-i..." all of your confidence from earlier fades from your grasp as alastor towers over you, deep red eyes seeing straight through you. "your words, darling. tell me that you just can't wait for me to take you, to push your limits."

his breath is hot on your ear, threatening to burn you. "w-what if i can't take it?" you whisper, words shaking just as much as your body with how much adrenaline is being pumped through you. alastor's mouth finds your neck as sharp teeth gently nip at your skin. "i think that's what you're hoping for, my dear." his words end in a sharp hiss, his hips pressing you into the door. and then you finally feel it, alastor's hard cock against your body.

oh fuck.

"this is long overdue, please forgive me if my patience seems short." he mutters into your skin, barely containing himself from biting your soft flesh. with ease, alastor lifts you off the floor and begins carrying you to the bed. the effortlessness sends an ache straight to your core. laying you down, you look up at him with wide eyes. it's such a head rush, you almost don't notice how he lifts your ass up just enough to remove your shorts and panties.

your breath hitches at the realization that you're mostly bare and yet he's fully clothed. "can i..." you swallow hard, hands trailing down his body. "i-i wanna touch it... wanna hold it." alastor bites back a groan, not sure he's ever heard you say something sexier. its a frenzy to remove the remaining clothing, neither of you wanting to waste any more time.

you're practically drooling by the time alastor's cock is freed, knowing damn well that this wasn’t fitting. the head of his cock alone would probably stretch you to your limit. straddling his hips, you finally wrap your fingers around his aching cock and moan aloud. "jesus christ al..." you breathe, eyes wide while you slide your hand up and down slowly, like you're engraving it to memory. alastor's body shudders, seeing just how small your hand looks wrapped around him. flicking your thumb over his leaky slit, you smear precum down his length.

"you can play later babe, fffuck, no more though." the gravelly sound you're used to hearing in his voice seems to be doubled, anticipation swirling in your gut. alastor's hands reach around to cup your ass, and flips you onto your back. everything about alastor was overwhelming, his size, his attitude, his cock. your head spins as alastor presses the head of his cock to your entrance, you can already tell it's barely going to slide in even with how soaked your cunt is.

"i-i don't-" alastor shushes you, easing into you inch by inch. your thighs shake, and you're sure there's no way you'll be able to take it all. "ngh, alastor." you whine, the ever growing stretch starting to make your stomach hurt. "ah ah, you're doing so well darling. so tight." he sighs, watching his cock disappear into your sweet wet heat.

your eyes roll into the back of your head, his cock pressing snuggly against your cervix. "thats it, good girl." he almost wants to laugh as he pulls back out, seeing there's still a few couple of inches that aren't covered in your wetness. "we're going to have to work on this, aren't we?" you reach your hand down and feel where your bodies are connected and moan. "t-there's still that much?" and alastor does laugh this time. "don't you worry about that, we'll train this pussy to take every inch."

each thrust of his cock makes your stomach ache, and the feeling of being so full keeps pushing you closer to the edge. "s-soo big, 'm gonna..." you cry out as alastor's hands find your hips. he picks a brutal pace, you're not sure how you'll be able to walk tomorrow, but the stretch and burn of his cock forcing his way deeper and deeper has that coil in your stomach about to break.

and when you do cum, it's the most explosive orgasm you've ever felt. "a-alastor !" your vision goes black, and you almost miss the feeling of alastor's release. well, you would have missed it, but the sheer amount of seed he spills deep against your cervix is immediately leaking from your abused hole. it seeps down to your ass even, covering you in such a way you'll probably never forget.

breathing heavily, you lay comfortably still under him. alastor places a gentle kiss to your forehead before removing himself from the bed. "rest, darling. i will be right back." you’re half asleep by the time he comes back with a warm towel, and even more so when he pulls the blanket over you. he waits until you're sound asleep before he goes to shower off.

"well, i suppose i owe angel a thank you..." alastor hums to himself.

[astralnymphh]

making ellie ur anal princess ౨ৎ

𓆩.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝𓆪: subbottom!ellie, bit of a brat obv, spanking ofc!! rough n' nasty, sorta soft, an iota of lore buildup tbh im not doing all that, some fluff at the end i think, 2.4k+ words . BIG TEXT VERSION . MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICK . IMPORTANT TLOU POST . PALESTINE INFO . ART BY LOTTIE

Wintry brumes swept through Jackson this week had to have carried some alteration of spores, for Ellie to even chew her teeth over the word yes. Bizarre as the idea should strike— "Wanna try it from behind?"— recoiling lips over her ear rim, sunken in a seat behind, and masticating denimed ass with your honed nails; Ellie was all in, blushed to the bone.

Was she at all candid originally? No, that goes without saying. Humdrums and spectrums of explicitness on your part pervade each crack and inept cough of chatter that she starts days beforehand, throat literally cracking whenever the topic emerges on dreary mornings or alive nights. Twiddly of her thumbs or knees, breaks the thick silence on a spitty click— uncalled for finger jabbing you to see if you managed to evade sleep long enough, "Um, so— it really won't hurt if I.. god— this is so fuckin'.. uh, keep.. practicing?"

Practicing. One way to say it. You assured Ellie; "Yeah, unless you're a masochist praying for a death wish." which maybe could've been articulated nicer, but she's your girlfriend, and one of her major ground-breakers for falling smitten with you— your humor. Spankin' her butt the second she spanks yours, (In turn making her the butt of the running: "That's gonna be you on Friday." joke), or nonchalantly slipping the notion that she'd "Look hotter than a V.S model." in a black thong, flopping your head and averting casual gaze to blank spaces undeserving of your eyes as if your comment wouldn't fuck with her brain for the ticking remains of daylight. Just crude humor, and not serious concepts, right?

So beyond the shadow of doubt, of course, when she's bare lain, spreadeagled of her legs caging you in, maraschino face smudged flat to her bed, perky ass in yours and teased by the caphead of your plastic dick— you give all the humor that girl can get, and fourfold.

"Don't need to clench, baby. Your butt isn't going anywhere."

Ellie clenching for her oh so cherished life felt more like she was squeezing the nervous nectar out, pearly bullets brought upon by all that foreplay— or anticipation— bedazzle the creased parts and frowns she knits as you wrap a grip on your lubed length and brush the tip against her asscrack. It prods at her, mentally. Pokes her to open up, literally.

A drawn-out whine, low and wispy, breezes her throat, "Shut up," jaw tensing grit conjointly, "You're such an ass— and don't you dare make an ass joke, I swear." you suppose she attempted to rein in some essence of control with that suppressed tone of threat, cute threat if we're mincing no words, but it's futile. Can't rise above when you're pinned below.

You snicker, contrary hand swerving over and beginning to palm her butt's half-taut half-doughy feel, and yielding it to a pull, "Hmhm." the soft heat of your touch inciting her muscles to relax, just a slight. "Want you to put it in, set the pace for me, mkay?" your voice curls at the end, tilting your face even if she couldn't exactly see.

"Huh.." she releases a breathy chuckle into the mattress, then shimmies onto her ruddy, pockmarked elbows to allow a pivot of her head. "Makin' me do all the work, can't you just do it already?" she gripes, teetering between frustration and impatience, and nearly hissing, "Fuck me already." instead. Fair skin contours along her shoulder blades as she reaches back, little dimples you wanna deepen with presses.

Muggy fingers skid the bends of your knuckles, "Ts' cute when you do." and you slacken your grip, the harness lacing your hips tugging in nooks as she takes you and levels it to her hole, not quite inserting it before another scoff unbinds from her throat.

"Uh-huh, totally." the brat card was the only thing she could play, Ellie being Ellie— plus, fuck you for shoving such a vulnerability into her by eclipsing over her body and deciphering which touches and words made her tick into a, "Yes ma'am." this past week, making her eager to get piped dumb already, even if the thought conflicts with humiliation.

Intrinsic carnality, had her whipped subconsciously. Hot blood always pooled at her cheeks whenever the mere prediction of how this would go down flashed her mind, having to mosey out of her place for a contemplative stroll. Contemplate, contemplate, ooze her eyes into the raw white, winter void, "Fuck." she couldn't help but moan, and throb untouched.

Bands flex across her grasp as she tries pulling you inside, but her body is a bit too.. antsy, taut. "Babe, it's not— mmph, it's not going in. I think we have to—"

"Have to.. what?"

"Fuck!" a rushed moan tears as skin slaps, harsh and bridging on real tears. Of pain, or by pleasure? Ellie can't convey, but her thrust into the spongy bed and toss of head begging to get strung in your fist impart the guess that fuck— you've stretched her deep, bottomed in perfectly.

You let her hole familiarize the girth for a second prior to drawing out and slamming back in, "Uh!" plush globes rippling wherever the skin spilled on top of your hip bones jamming into her. The pressure clamping you in causes a tiny kickback against your folds, chafes your clit underneath. "Fuckin' tight, aren't you?" you're a damn taunt, winching that whisper ardent to her neck. Evilly; wicked as lusty spirits tempt.

"Holy fuck, holy fu— uhh, uh uh, shit!" streams of nasty and broken up groans hike out of her gaped mouth with each pump into her, poor girl having a gouge out with the bedsheets as a means of taking you, "It's so— uhn! So fuckin' bi— I can't, hhn'can't.."

Musing sighs blur into a pitying coo, you reply, "Mhm, you can. Play with 'urself baby."

"Okay, okay—" Ellie unfolds a breathlessness, "—unhh babeee, fuckkk me." and runs it into straught curses as her tatted forearm lodges in the narrow space separating her from drenched cotton, and forks her pussy lips open, rubbing her neglected bud in sloppy strokes. Her teeth bore into her soft, coral lips when her fingers tug just right, so delectably right she could come undone then and there with your added penetration, waning from pain to indeed— pleasure. Diverts her fingers a moment to massage all the dripping slick and lube through her labia 'till it drew pretty webs between, and resumes again, noisily as ever, "Ghnna' cum, guhhh— ohh my goodd." and so nasty; dribbles of thin saliva traversing the swell of her chin.

Goddamn, she's loud. Sure, it's adorable how you pump her into a blathering mess on your cock, but this was unforeseen; surrendering her every moan to get bumped out nonsensically. Because or for you, both possibly, or definitely. "Already? Aww." you pity, muffling your speech to render your voice into thorns of mock disappointment, but in reality, you just quickened your humps. Shown audibly in the squeaks of her bed frame squawking under your combined weights.

Two splotchy flowerbeds of crimson brim at her asscheeks, owing to how intense this had began and trickled into. Hmm, could make it redder if we so wished.

Wish it is.

Quietude holds, and relents in a hard snap; a sting pricks the entirety of your palm crashing down on her butt, watching as the gentle red gains a series of richer rays and hearing the result of said slap punching through her larynx.

"Ughnn!"

Continuing: you slap once, slap twice, times it by thrice, and drive her into a quiver, procuring those wails that have your goosebumps downright rigid as the earth.

"Uh— uh— agh!"

Retiring your hands thriven of ache, they find oasis curving in the shape of her waist. "So good, isn't it Els? Can tell by how loud you're being, my sloppy girl." praised you, silkily sweet upon the lacy edge of slamming your cockhead rough on her walls.

"Yes, yessh. Make me shl— make me.. fuck— make m'your sloppy girl.." past her grace, is a side long since cowered. It's like you molded her brain to abruptly covet the feeling spurting inside her pelvis. From her spine, unto her clit, a ticklish string invokes its fray, flitting her eyes to darker heavens within her skull.

You coast your knees further up until they parked aside her hips, slanting your groin so you could plunge her wider and deeper, ending up with a draw of lubrication landsliding out. Sheer size alone— she's spread her on your strap thickly enough to stimulate certain sweet spots, and god can you tell when you do hit them. Resistance punts the strap base viciously back, dragging a yelp from your lungs. All the squelches coming from her two holes, egged you to an insatiable fucking. Arousal scorched the curves of your cheeks, in love with that sound, infatuated with her pussy, her ass, how ace of a learner she is.

Ellie's calves give upon sensation and hurtle up, rotating her ankle downwards and pushing cinched toes smushed on your bouncing hind— because that infamous pinch now consumes her fattened clit, riding her sleek-glistened fingers doggishly to pursue that heavenly itch. An oncoming recital of whines and growls coats her timbre, "Baby, uhh— babe— m'gonna cum now, dammit.. 'cum all over you— yeah." pleading for you to hasten up in buggy nudges of her heel, butting your ass.

"Oh yeah?" you swirl muse, arching your thumb into the arch her spine slowly welds into, swooning when her head lies atop her ear and a suffused, smiling expression meets your behold.

"Mhm, hmph!" a hitched gulp interrupts her, "You're too fuckin'— mhh, too fuckin good at t-this." inching into a cocky laugh for a blink in time, then swallows it returned to a screw of overwhelm in her facial muscles. She snakes her free paw under yours set on her waist, collecting it and dragging you to grope a handful of her breast, erect nipples flicking stripes due to your humps jostling her.

Weepy eyes bordered by remnants of her past tears cried inflict a bridge between pride and more praise into the pleasure points of your body, and you had no clue before this that she cried. It felt.. gratifying, seeing freckled flesh resemble pebbled waters in spring, ribbons of light warping along her cheeks.

"Those tears for me?" even so, you lower your lips and lap the pellucid stain up, puckering a smooch in its wake.

But you keep ramming a flood out.

The nod she bobs is swift, swifter than her gullet will ever deliver in this state— nor could now, a contort bolting her face inwards subsequent to a mouse-pitched moan leaving the luring lips of your lover bearing pressure into squirting her orgasm all over you, "Oh fuck! Fuck!" she keens and cants her ass on you, jerking swipes over her clit wildly to fufill the ecstasy piping through her pussy. A timid and weak spray noises below— and then came the webs of liquid pearls cascading around her clit, connecting to her fingerprints as she delicately taps the beady bud.

She got thrashy, and clenched your cock in, having bitten off more than she could chew— and it thrilled your cunt to know that; fire catches, and so does the knot twisting your insides. Relish leaves your mouth as you finish base-deep in your girlfriend, imposing her to your skin-bulged grip of her soft breast melting into your palm lines as you cum, "Ohh, yes baby— good girl, good girl.. fuckk." imprinting her mind with how good that felt in your every reaction, forcing that fervor into her existence.

"I fuckin' love you, babe, I love you so fuckin' muh— yes yes yes.." Ellie reciprocates passion received, unto passion given; parting her muck sweat face from the bed and sundering that space in front of yours, suckling your bottom lip into your mouth and sharing the excess teardrops streaked upon her top lips, unlocking to simply just— breathe onto your mouth, straining the last of her orgasm in gradually dwindling moans.

One last peck at her lips charged by a high, you both temper your elation strewn throughout and become aware of the loss for air in your lungs, inhaling the scent of each other done up in exertion. The stillness sustains for a bit, kind of just drunkenly staring 'till one of you broke into a lopsided smirk— no doubt Ellie, and you just had to mingle lips again. So, you slide out carefully with the expected threads of lube following after, and you roam your damp palms away from her ass and chest and branch them on either side of her clammy waist. Her contagious giggles inspire you to mirror the same sounds as you slink behind her and spoon her, smushing the ball of your nose into her hot nape reeking of sweat.

"Was that everything you imagined— or a pain in the ass?" quiped you, quick rolling kisses on her skin, specks of your spit smearing.

Cringe compels her to split lips from you, chuckling, "Really? Right now?" a row of notches digging between her brows, and a shuffle of her legs rub at the filthy wetness layering her groin, "You've got to be kidding me."

"So it was a pain?"

All you get as a response is her shoulder blades swelling as she breathes in, and shies her face away, giving you the hair-in-your-face treatment. "Guess.. after that, 'could go for a couple snacks. I'm hungry."

You squint, "By snacks, do you mean your two-course aftersex meal?" retorting.

"Yeah! That's like, the best thing to do right after." and, her enthusiastic claim isn't all that spoiled. Ellie commonly does it, and she fucking loves it. Hot meals under some wacky or heartfelt discussion, sometimes checking in on the other person, sometimes asking how they felt— but this time, confessions would stay an enigmatic afterthought to ponder about, as really, she fucking loved what you did to her. But that's— forward. Give her a couple days and a couple hours toppled above the usual hour she knocks slumped into somnolence, and she'll admit that. Sappy sweet on the lobe of your ear, indifferent on whether you're wide awake to overhear or not.

"You felt good, uh, by the way. It hurt at first, but, I think my butt's healed from the trauma. Chair isn't uncomfortable to sit in anymore, hmph. Love you, don't ask me about it in the morning. I'll pretend you don't exist. Night, babe."

Something tells me she wants you to do it again.

[florapal]

enchanted to meet you.

welcome home ! / ot8 x human!reader , can be seen as romantic or platonic.

what they like abt u <333

no warnings.

first welcome home writing piece ever ... I hope you little tulips enjoy<3 inspired by so many human readers I've seen n read !

humanity.

that was what made you different from your neighbors— your humanity. your flesh, and your bone, and every blood vessel you had— every vein, every nail, every tooth and every beat of your heart— it made you different. they were made of felt. they had nothing but stuffing in their bodies, they were literally puppets. they didn't need almost everything you did— food, toothbrushes, skincare (probably). water made them sink so deep into the ground, they could barely move.

but you— you were vastly different from them, and you naturally— knew more. they came to you for most of their endeavors; even the smartest neighbor, your predecessor— frank frankly— came to you once in a while.

they asked you about what it was like , how it was like , to be a human. why did you need this? why did you need that? what would happen if [...]? what would never happen? curiosity, curiosity, curiosity. you couldn't blame them, either, seeing as you were equally curious about the world around you. this foreign world that you, like, literally dreamed of— you dreamed about this world so often, that you theorize its what got you sent here in the first place. a gap made in the multiverse, you theorize, opened during your sleep. until then, you had been an overseer, not directly interacting with anyone from the neighborhood.

it must've taken one gap in space. one lapse in time, in the order of the universe. one thing to confuse your conscience, and in turn confused your senses. your dream felt real, now, as a familiar voice called to you— and you opened your eyes.

wally darling.

you freaked out a bit, after that.

who wouldn't? who wouldn't, in such worlds like this one.

the sky shines brighter here.

everything's brighter, to be fair.

even you are.

surrounded by constant support & love , comforted and relied on— you don't believe yourself deserving of this, but they do.

poppy partridge is, no joke, a mother hen. poppy is the first to offer housing, to offer nutrition and to offer company— she cares, she cares, and she cares some more. she finds herself running a wing down your hair , entranced by every strand and every split end. counting each strand you have eases her , to some extent. it helps her cool down, just as her presence in general helps you cool down.

julie joyful is as joyful as her surname suggests. she takes your hand without fear, she doesn't hesitate to know you— she pushes you to talk about yourself , even. she finds herself interested in your fingers. she fiddles with them unconsciously, intrigued by every callous, intrigued by every line on your palm— intrigued by your nails. she traces the lines on your palms absentmindedly — uncharacteristically quiet as she listens to you talk about your world.

barnaby b. beagle makes you laugh the moment you meet him. all it takes is a clever punch line , and you're giggling like mad— and barnaby prides himself on the fact he is able to make you laugh. he is curious about your smile— for the first time he saw it, he saw a row of white pearls shining up at him. it looked like a treasure chest being opened, as weird as it sounded. barnaby only hopes that he'll make you smile each and every day— he wouldn't know what he'd do if he saw your teeth gritting— be it in anger, or sadness. he hopes he never will know.

eddie dear is your pen pal who delivers his letters himself. in these letters, you tell him of your hobbies and your pet peeves, your no's and your yes', your dos and don'ts. you tell him everything, and in turn, he tells you everything aswell. can you blame him if he is enamored by how you speak? like, literally, how you speak. he does, indeed, find your voice calming— something he must savour. but he cannot fathom the fact you don't need a voice box, and whenever you speak— your neck?? vibrates?? he is eager to learn about human anatomy! it'd be even better from you, as sadly, what you say is almost always on paper.

sally starlet is in her prime theater kid era, as you said. you stated it once and she has never let it go. yes, she is infact in her prime ! she enjoys the thrill , the applause and the fun ! she's also, however, thrilled by your ideas. you, as someone from another world, bring such wonderful things onto the table that— in her brilliance, she makes possible. she wonders if the sun is inside of you, for your ideas brighten up every day she lives. yes, tell her more about your little disney movies, she's taking notes and planning to create another to add into that category! the best one yet! perhaps you could be the lead?

howdy pillar is , in your words , a funky dude with nice arms. he appreciates the compliment. the supplier of most of the towns goods, he gets in good business— but he thinks whenever you're there, he gets better business! your drive is contagious, and he wants to get more things done when you're in his vicinity. you motivate him unknowingly to better his shop, as you better your situation in this neighborhood. he's proud of you, neighbor, he hopes you are of him too.

frank frankly is fascinated with you. he seems to be interested in your knowledge of insects , but he seems to be interested in your general knowledge too. you know more than he does , been out and about more than he's been— seen more bugs than he has, you are literally from a different world— a world he wants to know all about. there is so much going on in your brilliant mind, every time you converse— he believes he's only ever receiving a morsel of your intellect. perhaps you'd be free tomorrow, to meet up and to engage in intellectual things?

wally darling is intrigued. he hears a beat in your chest, he says, and you nod. he places a hand on your chest, over your heart, and it beats. he looks at you in awe. he doesn't know what this is, but it is part of you, and if it's part of you— it's aweworthy. this mindset goes for every part of you— all of you is beautiful to him. however, he must say, he enjoys the way your eyes crease whenever you smile. eyes are windows to the soul, you told him, and he couldn't agree more— especially the moment your eyes sparkled when he told you he loved you. how did you interpret this ? you did not know, all you know is that you love him too.

each puppet finds solace in you, as cliché as it sounds. as different as you are from them, flesh & bone to felt & fur , they can not deny that, just as they were with every neighbor,

they were enchanted to meet you.

assets / pinterest ♡ property of florauna, 2023

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚄𝙷 𝙾𝙷

description: don't annoy lauren james, she'll make you pay one way or another. definitely don't annoy lauren james by knocking out her girlfriend, because then she'll score five goals against you and set up another two

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lauren james x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction! Do not take any of this seriously.

warnings: a few swear words, playing against t*ttenh*m, minor injury - concussion, sorry Ashleigh Neville!

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y/n had always adored playing for Chelsea, playing for Emma. Chelsea were her childhood team and now she played for them, running down the wing and keeping the game alive.

Better than that, she played with her girlfriend of two years, the two having met and pretty much instantly becoming a power couple in the football world.

While the two hadn't confirmed anything, everyone had pretty much guessed and pieced together and they had never denied anything. Snippets of them ended up over TikTok.

Lauren's hand on her low back as they celebrate, y/n jumping on her when she scored her hat-trick, the two arriving and leaving together, y/n in Lauren's hoodie.

Of course the team knew, they had been a big part in getting the two together so knew the ins and outs of their favourite relationship, making sure that if they posted photos with the two a bit too close in the background that they were okay with it. They always were.

Currently, y/n was sat in Lauren's lap, listening to Emma's pep talk, the manager not even mentioning the way y/n was sat as she knew it wouldn't mean anything to the two.

Today's game was against Tottenham, and y/n had woken up with a sick feeling in her stomach. Like something was going to happen, but she pushed it down and hoped for the best.

The group all cheered as Emma finished, everyone standing up as they leave to get to the tunnel. y/n and Lauren hang back, doing their handshake with either hand before sharing a quick peck.

"Be safe out there." y/n warns Lauren.

"You too baby." Lauren tells her and she nods as they move to the tunnel, Millie sending y/n a knowing smile.

Stamford Bridge was alive with cheers as they walked out, a sea of blue, cheers and screams echoed as the teams lined up, the captain's shaking hands.

y/n shared a smile with Lauren as the Chelsea team huddled, Millie talking them through the first 45 minutes. Their arms were over each other's shoulder, though Lauren let her hand run down y/n's back slightly, equalling an elbow to her side.

The group depart, moving into their places as they wait for the whistle which blows, Bethany England, Lauren and y/n's England teammate starting off the game.

Barely ten minutes in and Lauren's jaw was tensed, her teeth clenched together in annoyance as her lover hit the floor for at least the third time.

Ashleigh Neville happened to be marking y/n today, and the woman was hardly playing fair. Lauren helped y/n up for the third time, the two setting up for the free kick.

Lauren's hand falls to y/n's waist, as if she was checking her girlfriend was okay, which she was. Then Lauren lined up to send the cross in and y/n moved into the box.

Lauren fired the ball in, y/n jumping to try and hit it with her head. As she does, Ashleigh Neville pushes her in the back, y/n goes tumbling down, her head managing to clip the ball into the net as her body sprawls out on the grass.

"Ow." y/n whines, Lauren getting to her and crouching next to her.

"You okay?" The referee asks, checking on the fallen player who nods as Lauren helps her up.

"I'm gonna kill her." Lauren says simply and y/n looks over at her as Millie pats her back.

"Don't you dare." y/n warns her as play gets going again.

y/n runs down the wing quickly, watching Bethany carefully as she times her tackle, sliding onto one knee briefly to pass the ball out to Erin who fires it forward to Lauren.

Seeing the fact Lauren was being surrounded, y/n pushed herself up and sprinted down the field, trying to create a switch up play between her and her girlfriend as she recieved the ball.

y/n went to pass it on when studs found her ankle, the girl shouting in shock as she rolled onto the ground. Lauren stopped her run as the whistle blew, charging over.

"Mills." y/n warned, her captain having been nearest to help her up. Millie realised what she was warning and turned, quickly taking Lauren's shoulders and pushing her away.

Sam replaced Millie, holding out her hands so y/n could take them and put some pressure on her ankle. Once realising she was okay, y/n nodded in thanks to Sam.

"You okay squirt?" Sam asks her.

"It's not me I'm worried about." y/n warns her as she and Sam look over to Millie and Lauren who were protesting at the ref for lack of a card.

"Uh oh." Sam says as Ashleigh rolls her eyes behind the ref and Lauren tenses.

"Yeah, uh oh." y/n agrees, scurrying over and grabbing Lauren's arm, pulling her away. "Calm down." y/n warned Lauren.

"That was such a dangerous tackle." Lauren scoffs.

"Leave it." y/n repeats. "I'm fine, just show Ashleigh what happens when they touch your girl." She adds and Lauren can't help but chuckle.

The free kick was just outside the box, Sam and y/n stepping away as they proudly watched Lauren fire it around the wall and into the goal, the net shaking as Ashleigh groaned.

As y/n turned she saw Lauren smirk smugly at Ashleigh and y/n cleared her throat, finding the action rather attractive to Sam's disgust.

"Keep it in your pants squirt." Sam snorts and y/n mockingly shoves her as they reset.

It took a total of three minutes for Ashleigh to cause trouble again. y/n understood, her team were 2-0 up against the Tottenham side in twenty minutes, but couldn't she leave her alone?

y/n was running down the wing when Ashleigh tugged her back. y/n groaned but turned, kicking the ball off Ashleigh and out for a corner, she looked toward the ref but the woman hadn't seen the tug.

They set up for the corner, Lauren placing herself behind her lover to protect her from the shoving in the box. Lauren's hands were comfortably on y/n's waist, their bodies pressed against each other tightly.

In that moment, Lauren was worrying about protecting y/n from the slightly enthusiastically violent Ashleigh Neville, she couldn't give less of a damn what media coverage it would gain.

The ball was kicked and the box moved, Lauren tried to stay close to y/n but watched as Ashleigh came shoulder to shoulder with y/n, and then the woman's arms came out and pushed, unfortunately wrestling y/n away from the ball. And into the goal post.

y/n's body hit the ground as Lauren let out a shout to stop the game, the referee listening for once and carding Ashleigh with a red, for the arms used to throw y/n against the post.

Lauren however was focussed on the fact y/n was not yet awake, the medics now around her as Lauren stayed next to her, hand in hand as the medics worked around Lauren.

y/n woke up with a groan, only out for a minute, but she had a bruise already forming across her head. y/n squeezed Lauren's hand and looked over at her.

"And I thought running into Millie hurt." y/n groaned and the medics chuckled, asking her if she wanted to be stretchered off. y/n denied, asking if she could be allowed to at least walk off.

"You've got a concussion, though it isn't a major one. Somehow." Their medic said almost confused.

"I'm a tough thing." y/n replies as she wraps her arm around Lauren's shoulder, the girl helping her up and the wrapping her arm around her lover's waist.

"This is gonna have TikTok going crazy." The medic chuckles and Lauren hums.

"I don't care, just make sure you take care of my girl yeah?" She asks them as y/n gets to Emma, a medic taking Lauren's place who with a stern look from Emma runs back to place for Guro's penalty.

"Made a hell of a bruise already." Emma comments, tilting y/n's head up, chuckling as y/n grinned brightly. "Nothing can dampen your spirits, ay squirt?" Emma asks her.

y/n shrugs and is helped down to the medical room where they begin their usual check, y/n too dizzy to pay attention to the noise outside.

Lauren was the cause of the noise, with five minutes to go of the normal first half and at least ten minutes of added time, her head had ducked and her shoulders tensed.

She glared at Ashleigh Neville from across the pitch as the reset, now 3-0 up from Guro's penalty. The whistle blew and Bethany England passed back to Grace Clinton.

Grace quickly had the ball stolen from her feet as Lauren raced through the players and hammered the ball into the net. Emma cheered, hands shooting up in victory.

Lauren assisted another goal and, on of Sam's and the Australian ten assisted Lauren's second goal since y/n had been taken off. The two strikers shared a grin as the whistle blew, 6-0 up at half time.

Lauren listened to Emma's pep-talk with jumpy feet, the woman finishing finally and allowing her to go see y/n, Lauren practically sprinting down the corridor.

Lauren opened the door to the medical room to find y/n doing some sudoku. An icepack held on her head with her other hand. Lauren chuckled which caused y/n to grin.

"Baby!" y/n smiled, opening her arms.

"Hi gorgeous." Lauren said, bringing y/n into her arms and pressing a kiss to her hair. Her eyes pushing down to the crutch and now supported ankle of y/n with furrowed brows.

"It's a sprain, from the earlier tackle, I was no help with running on it, but couldn't quite feel it." y/n explains, Lauren taking over holding her icepack.

"How long you out for?" Lauren asks worriedly.

"Two weeks, three at most." y/n reassures as a medic comes in saying they had let Emma know and that she was okay to go back to the dug out.

"Coat." Lauren hums, pulling y/n up and taking her own coat off wrapping it around y/n.

"They're going to notice the number." y/n warns, there being a number '10' sewn into the Chelsea coat on the left chest piece. It wasn't very big, but y/n was sure they would notice it.

Also the fact the coat was nearly eight inches too long for her and engulfed her body. But it was so warm, and smelt like Lauren so y/n didn't care if anyone saw.

Lauren walked slowly with y/ n who was giggling away with the crutches in hand, and before she could get outside, Lauren tugged the girl back.

"Come 'ere." Lauren hummed, pulling y/n into her chest, pressing their lips together. Lauren licked at y/n's lip, pushing her tongue past her lips so she could sweep her mouth with her tongue.

y/n was slightly shocked at the kiss and as Lauren pulled away, a smug smile on her face as she pecked at y/n's lips once more, the girl felt as if she could of fainted.

"You alright guys?" A voice asks and the two turn to see Bethany England stood with a smirk on her face, already knowing about their relationship due to the fact she was on the England team.

"Hey Beth." y/n said sheepishly.

"Maybe don't make out in the corridor guys." Bethany chuckles and y/n rolls her eyes at her jokingly before she goes out to the dug-out, Emma clapping her on the back as she moved to sit down.

Fran and Ann grinned at her, both out today due to slight injuries. Fran threw the blanket over y/n who sighed in the warmth as she placed her crutches down.

The three chatted away, waiting for the second half to start which it did, with another Lauren goal. y/n looked over to Emma in shock the woman just chuckling.

Lauren scored another four minutes after, assisting another one for Sam after another seven. Emma leaned over to the shocked y/n who was confused about where this type of Lauren had come from.

"She warning them." Emma explains and y/n looks up at the scoreboard and the names underneath hers.

James 20'

Reiten 41'

James 44'

Kerr 45 + 3'

James 45 + 9'

James 46'

James 50'

Kerr 57'

"Warning them about what?" y/n asks Emma who chuckles.

"What happens when the touch you." Emma tells her, as she gestures Mia Fishel to warm up, just as Lauren gets sixth of the game. As soon as the time hits seventy minutes, Lauren is take off for Mia, the girl panting as Emma claps her on the back.

"I should get y/n knocked out every week." Emma teases and Lauren shakes her head.

"Don't you dare." She denies as she climbs over a row, sitting next to y/n who quickly rips Lauren's coat from herself and wraps Lauren in it.

"Where did that come from?" y/n asks the girl in shock, Lauren shrugging as she swung an arm over y/n's shoulders pulling her into her chest. "They'll see." y/n warns, settling her head into Lauren's shoulder.

"Let them. I don't care." Lauren says simply.

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twitter/X

username1: 10 - 0 ??!! TEN MOTHER FUCKING GOALS

^

username2: SIX FROM LAUREN JAMES SIX??? SHE SCORED MORE GOALS IN THIS GAME THAN SOME STRIKERS HAVE SCORED ALL SEASON 😰😰

^

username3: it is truly mental - six goals and two assists. 😶😶

^

username4: they knocked her girlfriend out so she sat them down and gave a masterclass in football.

username5: has anyone got any of the videos of Lauren and y/n today ???? 😩

^

username6: @y/n.james.is.key has a thread!

^

username5: THANK YOU!!! 🥺🥺

y/n.james.is.key:

Here are all of the cute things which happened today between Lauren and y/n while on pitch - links attached are the videos curtesy of @wosocouplesproof !!

1) OKAY - first lets talk about every time Neville tackled y/n LAUREN WAS GETTING SO MAD - like when y/n went down the third time in like two minutes - Lauren THREW HER ARMS UP AND YELLED

2) The foul before the y/n goal, Lauren helped her up and then held her waist - like the hold was so natural and tight, she so forgot where she was lmao

3) The ankle tackle and Lauren going mental? Then y/n grabbing her arm and calming her down - also bonus if you saw Lauren's smirk after her goal and y/n look down BLUSHING - SAM THEN TEASED HER ABOUT IT OMG

4) When y/n and Lauren were preparing for a corner and Lauren 'protected' y/n by legit having her pressed into her chest, Lauren's hands were on her waist guys, holding! - istg I don't know how much more I can take

5) And then when y/n went down ( i was so scared omg) Lauren being right there and helping her off pitch, only to say (or at least we think) 'take care of my girl?!!!!!'

6) then Lauren just showing Tottenham why you don't hurt y/n unless you want to lose oh idk 10-0.

7) thennn y/n coming in in LAUREN'S COAT after half time and crutches - but we have been updated ly chelsea admin get well soon queen!

8) Then Lauren scoring again, and again, and again, and assisting Sam again and again. And THEN coming off the pitch to sit and cuddle with y/n

so yeah they are so together and all these videos make me want to cry cause these two are so cute omd! 😭😭

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y/n chuckled as she finished reading the tweet, her head on Lauren's shoulder as the girl traced patterns into y/n's bare shoulder, the two had hanged into more relaxed clothes as they got home, the two of them in sports bras and joggers as they sat and watched 'Big Mouth'.

The Chelsea groupchat had been going crazy - videos of Lauren's goals and the two of them together being sent in and laughed at people enjoying their win and evening.

"My superstar." y/n hummed, pressing a kiss against Lauren's neck lovingly. "Played so well today baby." y/n continues, leaning up to peck at the corner of Lauren's lips.

"Hmm, only because they hurt my girl." Lauren denies, leaning down to press a long kiss to y/n's lips, their tongues meeting, y/n grins into the kiss, giggling as they pulled away.

"Hmm, think Emma will try and get me hurt every week if that is the response." y/n says softly.

Lauren huffs, pulling y/n onto her lap and squeezing her waist tightly as y/n laughs, settling her back against Lauren's chest, the girl leans down and pecking kisses against y/n's cheek.

"Emma tries to do that, I'll kick her ass." Lauren states and y/n laughs.

"You can't do that to our manager." y/n laughs and Lauren chuckles, smiling softly at the sound of y/n's laugh.

"Then I'll get Reece to do it." Lauren says simply and y/n laughs again, turning slightly in Lauren's lap so she was buried into her neck.

"Okay." y/n hums, closing her eyes as Lauren ran a hand down her back.

"I was really worried today." Lauren says softly. "When you hit the ground. Jesus, fucking hell. I could have knocked Neville out." She continues.

"But you didn't, and well done for that." y/n says, pressing her lips against Lauren's neck in an innocent kiss.

"You sure your ankle is okay?" Lauren asked, hand running over the booted ankle in worry.

"Fine baby. Stop worrying." y/n says and Lauren hums, sitting back and slouching. "I love you Lauren." y/n tells her.

"Love you too baby." Lauren promises her. "What do you think about not being so careful?" She then asks, wanting to get the question out before it burnt up inside of her.

"I think, I better hope they notice your name when I wear it next game." y/n grins and Lauren chuckles, tilting her head down to press a kiss to y/n's lips.

"Gonna be the hottest WAG." Lauren says with a wolfish grin.

"Shut up." y/n laughs but grins when Lauren pulls her closer.

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END

Surprise part two on its way!

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family Steddie Part 5

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

The fact that we're on part five is wild to me

Anyway, here's the wedding! It's probably the longest part so far lol

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

Wedding planning was, unsurprisingly, a stressful process. Planning for a wedding only two weeks before the event was even more stressful. Thankfully, Steve wasn't planning alone; he was in charge of finalizing the guest list, sending invitations, and catering while Eddie was in charge of floral arrangements, music, and decorations for the ceremony.

Steve had felt the division of labor wasn't fair, but Eddie insisted he'd be able to do everything himself.

And Eddie had been right. He'd kept the cemetery just creepy enough to still feel right while decorating it with flowers and ribbons and surprisingly comfortable chairs considering they look like they're made of bones. Everything leads up to an altar right on their shared cemetery plot, where Eddie's Cousin Itt is standing in front of their tombstone to officiate the wedding.

It's all very nice, and Eddie did a wonderful job of setting everything up, but Steve can hardly appreciate it right now. He's too nervous. Not about marrying Eddie; no, he's excited and over the moon for that. He's nervous about meeting Eddie's family, his stomach upheaving over the idea that one of them may not like him.

"You're worrying over nothing," Eddie whispers, his lips brushing against Steve's earlobe before playfully tugging on it with his teeth. He wraps an arm around Steve's waist, the reassuring weight helping him feel grounded. "They're gonna love you."

"Your cousin has been glaring at me since she saw me," Steve whispers back, turning to look at Eddie and letting their noses brush.

"That's just Wednesday. She glares at everyone."

"Does she always glare at people like she's planning five ways to cook them for dinner?"

"Only the ones she likes."

Steve snorts, taking a deep breath and letting his head drop onto Eddie's shoulder. "What would she do if she didn't like me?" he asks, glancing down at the bouquet in his hands. The rose stems have been clipped of their flowers, leaving only the thorns and white lilies.

"She'd kill you," Eddie says bluntly.

"What, no torture?"

"She only tortures the people she loves."

"Oh," Steve says, glancing at the pale man next to Wednesday, "that's why her partner looks like that."

Before Eddie can start cracking up, the sun begins to set and El begins playing the piano, a low and haunting version of the wedding march. "You ready, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, his smile matching Steve's in love and joy and sheer excitement.

"Of course," Steve replies, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before letting Eddie lead him down the aisle. The left side of the aisle is filled with people who give off the exact same vibe as Eddie: mysterious, kooky, and altogether ooky. Wayne is standing on Eddie's side of the altar, looking two seconds away from tears of joy. On the right side of the aisle, Dustin (a black velvet pillow holding two rings in his lap) and his friends are filling the seats, along with Jonathan (an old friend from high school, sort of; it's complicated), his partner Argyle, and Nancy (Steve's ex-girlfriend from high school, part of the reason his friendship with Jonathan is complicated, and now making eyes at Robin). Robin is standing on Steve's side of the altar, practically buzzing in her dark green pantsuit.

When they get to the altar, standing almost perfectly centered on their plot, Eddie can barely put any distance between them. Steve is the one who has to smile at him reassuringly while taking a small step back, keeping a tight hold on Eddie's hand. Eddie squeezes tightly enough that Steve is almost worried about bone fractures, but Eddie wouldn't do anything so fun in front of others.

Steve glances at Cousin Itt when he starts speaking, his words unintelligible, high-pitched noises that Steve is somehow able to follow. They're the general officiant stuff: dearly beloved, marrying two men, joining them in unholy and downright sacrilegious matrimony. Honestly, Steve ends up blocking it out at some point, too busy getting lost in Eddie's eyes.

He looks handsome in his black suit with blood-red accents, his fingers uncharacteristically devoid of all rings except the engaged-to-be-engaged ring from Steve. When Steve had asked, Eddie grinned at him and said he didn't want anything to distract him from the ring Steve was about to give him. His hair is pushed out of his face, too, just barely tamed into something the humidity will destroy after about two more minutes. Strands are already falling back into his eyes. Steve likes it, though, and he reaches up to gently tuck one of the strands behind Eddie's ear.

Eddie catches his hand, bringing Steve's palm to his lips and playfully biting. "Stevie," he says, and Steve suddenly realizes they've somehow gotten to the vows when he wasn't paying attention, "I would kill for you. I would die for you. I would live for you. You haunt my dreams and bless my nightmares. Your voice is music to my ears, a symphony of love and passion to which my heart beats. Sweetheart, you will have my undying love for the rest of eternity and whatever may come after. Ask anything of me, and I will do it without question. I would wear pastels for you. I would dive into a rainbow ball pit. Darling, I would drive kids to scout meetings in a minivan for you. There is no truer happiness to me so long as you smile and say you love me."

Somehow, Eddie manages to go the entire time without a single tear shedding, but Steve isn't nearly as lucky. His eyes watered from the moment Eddie called him Stevie, and tears would be staining his collar if Eddie weren't wiping them away with his thumbs before they could fall. "You're so romantic," he mumbles, unable to help a short laugh at himself.

"What can I say? You're inspiring," Eddie replies, winking playfully.

Cousin Itt says something more and then looks up at Steve, bending forward slightly to indicate that it's his turn to recite vows. Steve takes a deep breath, steadying himself and gathering his thoughts. "When you first knocked on my door, I wasn't sure what to think of you, Eddie Munson," Steve says, reaching up and placing his hand over the one Eddie has on his cheek. "But you romanced me, completely swept me off my feet, and helped me feel more comfortable showing love in a way that feels right. Every time I look into your eyes, I fall in love all over again. When we're together, the entire world fades away. My love for you is as unwavering as the tides, as all-consuming as a black hole that would swallow the universe."

From the crowd, Steve can just barely hear a man's voice saying, "Tish, they're almost as romantic as us."

"Oh, Gomez, you always do love competition," a woman responds.

Steve has to keep himself from laughing, suddenly looking forward to meeting Gomez and Morticia.

Eddie notices his barely contained smile and nearly buzzes with the want to kiss it. He glances at Cousin Itt, jerking his head in Dustin's direction and raising his eyebrows. Cousin Itt garbles a response, something that sounds like a scolding but is quickly followed by a slight bow toward Dustin nonetheless.

Dustin jumps up and walks over to them, holding up the pillow. As Cousin Itt starts his version of exchanging the rings, Eddie picks one up. The band is an inky black with tiny, multi-colored gems scattered across the top like stars. Inside the band, Eddie's name is engraved in red. "Now, you'll always have me with you," Eddie says, grinning at Steve as he slips the ring onto his finger, nestling it against the engagement ring.

It's a snug fit, just tight enough for Steve to know it's there and wonder if it's impossible to take off. It's perfect.

Steve picks up the identical ring with his own name engraved on the inner band. "And you'll always have me with you, too," Steve replies, sliding the ring to rest against his engaged-to-be-engaged ring.

What follows is Dustin quickly retreating and Robin yanking away his bouquet while Cousin Itt bows slightly to the both of them and happily squeaks out one last sentence. Steve barely braces himself for Eddie pulling him close, spinning him into a dip, and kissing him breathless. Steve can't help laughing into the kiss as he wraps his arms around Eddie's neck, brushing his tongue along Eddie's lips and tasting cyanide punch still lingering behind his teeth.

Wolf whistles (Robin and a few of Eddie's cousins), cheers (Wayne and the rest of Eddie's family), and exaggerated exclamations of disgust (Dustin and his friends) surround them as Eddie bites his bottom lip before breaking the kiss. Steve grins at him, playfully tugging on a lock of Eddie's hair as he asks, "You gonna let me up, handsome?"

"You could poison me and I'd only hold you tighter, sweetheart," Eddie tells him.

"Promise?"

Eddie grins and pulls Steve out of the dip, keeping him close as he turns to the crowd with a happy smile. "Okay, everyone," he says, his hand dropping down to Steve's lower back, "the reception is over by the Sheffield Mausoleum. Stevie and I will be joining you shortly."

Steve reaches out for Eddie's left hand as the crowd rises and disperses towards a mausoleum behind the altar. The wedding ring pairs nicely with the engaged-to-be-engaged ring, and the gems on both reflect the last, soft rays of the setting sun and the lamps hung all around them so guests can still see in the dark.

The only one who hangs back is Dustin, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Eddie notices him and gently pulls his hand from Steve's so he can hold an arm out. Dustin lights up and barrels straight into them. "You're, like, my brother now!" Dustin says, looking up at Eddie with stars in his eyes.

"Gee, was I not doing a good enough job?" Steve asks.

Dustin snorts, poking Steve's ribs as he pulls away. "Sorry, man, you're just not as cool as Eddie."

"Woah, woah," Eddie says, maliciously ruffling Dustin's hair, "that's my husband you're talking about. I won't tolerate a single bad word about him."

"Oh, gross, you're gonna be even worse now," Dustin whines, slapping Eddie's hand away.

Steve can't help laughing, about to make a similar joke about brutalizing his husband only to be interrupted by a familiar and dreadful voice coming from his left.

"Steven?"

Every muscle in Steve stiffens, his entire body becoming straight as a board against his will, and he sees the exact same thing happen to Dustin. He doesn't want to, but Steve still forces himself to lean forward so he can see around Eddie.

There are two people standing right on the border between the green grass with clean tombstones and the stubborn weeds and vines climbing up worn stone. Both are middle-aged; the woman has blonde hair perfectly curled to frame her face and brown eyes, and the man has dark brown hair carefully styled with just barely too much gel and dull green eyes.

Steve feels his palms grow clammy as a spike of white-hot anxiety shoots up his spine. He glances at Dustin, reassuringly pats his shoulder, and pushes him closer to Eddie. His husband (he should be feeling much happier when referring to Eddie as such, and the fact that he doesn't fills him with anger and frustration equal to the anxiety caused by the man and woman) clearly has questions but doesn't say anything. Eddie just places a hand on Dustin's shoulder, the same spot Steve patted.

Steve takes a deep breath and turns, plastering on a smile so fake that it makes his stomach churn. "Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?" he asks, walking over to the two but staying on the brown and ancient side of the grass.

His mother raises a single, perfect eyebrow at him. "We received news of the wedding from our secretary," she says.

"Honestly, Steven, what else are we supposed to do when our eldest son gets married?" his father asks. And for a brief moment, Steve thinks they'll be supportive. Maybe they'll pull out a small but thoughtful wedding gift and mingle with the rest of the guests. He's wrong, of course, but it was a nice delusion while it lasted. "Of course, we had to come and stop you from getting married to this Munson character."

His mother huffs softly, her fingers twitching like she's about to reach for a cigarette even though she claimed to stop smoking years ago. "It seems we're a little too late for that, though. No matter. We're friends with a judge, so come along, Steven, we'll get this marriage voided before morning."

Honestly, Steve is surprised Eddie managed to go so long without inserting himself. The moment his mother threatened to void the marriage, however, Eddie definitely isn't able to hold himself back any longer. He steps forward, wraps an arm around Steve's waist, and asks, "So sorry, but who are you, and why are you intruding on our wedding?"

The sheer offense on their faces almost makes Steve feel better as he places a hand on Eddie's chest right over his heart. And he says almost because the offense is quickly followed by his mother saying, "We are Steven's parents, and you are about two seconds from legal action."

Eddie actually laughs in her face, and Steve feels the tension drain from him at the sound. "Please, go ahead. We Munsons love a good court battle. They've yet to make any charges stick, you know," Eddie says, his grin nearly feral and sending a thrill from Steve's scalp down to his toes.

He grips Eddie's shirt, gaining his attention and flashing a suggestive smile. "Eds," Steve whispers, briefly forgetting about his parents and the rest of the world, "what charges?"

That feral grin somehow widens, bringing Steve's attention to the too-sharp canines that he wants to drag his tongue against until it bleeds. "Would you like the list in chronological or alphabetical order, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, leaning close until their lips are just barely touching.

Steve licks his lips, tongue brushing against Eddie's teasingly, and watches as Eddie's eyes darken into something hungry and insatiable and terrifying and thrilling.

"Oh, gross, seriously?!" Dustin cries from behind them, throwing his hands in the air. "Save it for the honeymoon."

That seems to break Steve's parents out of whatever stupor had overtaken them. "Steven!" his father warns, voice low and threatening and utterly laughable. "Step away from him this instant. Is this the kind of example you've been setting for Dustin? We promised his parents to raise him properly when we took him in."

Oh. That's the card they're going to pull now. Steve sighs, whispers, "Later," to Eddie, and turns to look at his parents. Eddie buries his head in Steve's neck, teeth playfully brushing against his skin despite the audience. "One, he's my husband," Steve says, raising a finger for each item that follows the first, "Two, any example I set will be far better than the one set by your absence. Three, I suggest you leave before you find yourself stuck in this cemetery indefinitely."

Eddie huffs softly against his neck, and Dustin moves closer to Steve's side, grabbing his sleeve tightly. "You haven't raised me at all," Dustin tells them, his voice prickly and indicative of the hackles that would be raised if he had any.

"That is enough," Steve's mother snaps, effectively shutting up her own husband as she takes a single step forward. It's the first one she's taken since they started speaking, but she still avoids stepping over the line made by the grass. "Steven, if you insist on this...mistake, we'll simply have no choice but to cut you off. We'll also have to take Dustin since you clearly aren't the good influence you promised to be."

Steve should probably be angry. In fact, he is, but that anger is overshadowed by the undeniable urge to laugh in her face. Which he does. Loudly. "I haven't used your money for myself in ages," Steve tells her, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the house, "In fact, it's all gone toward house payments and bills. So, sure, take the house. Eddie and I will get a new place with an even bigger room for Dustin who, by the way, is going fucking nowhere."

"Oh, I love it when you curse," Eddie murmurs, kissing a line up Steve's neck to just below his earlobe.

Despite himself, Steve grins a little. And then Dustin tugs on his sleeve, gaining his attention before saying, "I really don't want to go with them."

"You won't," Steve promises, continuing before either of his parents can say anything, "because you're sixteen. I'll make sure the custody case drags itself long enough for you to turn eighteen, and then they won't have any say over you."

"That would be very expensive, Steven," his father says, taking on a gentler tone like he's suddenly trying to play the good cop to his wife's bad cop. "I don't think you realize that supporting yourself won't be easy."

This, apparently, is what truly offends Eddie. He finally pulls away from Steve's neck, narrowing his eyes as a cold wind suddenly picks up. "Stevie won't have to support himself because I'll support him. You missed the beautiful and hauntingly romantic vows we just spoke, but Stevie won't be wanting for anything as long as I'm around. And that extends to the people he considers family."

As he speaks, the lamps around them seem to change, casting ghostly shadows over the cemetery. Something whispers in the wind, voice drawling and unintelligible but still threatening. An overbearing pressure begins to cast itself over the area, sparing Steve and Dustin but pressing down relentlessly on their parents. "Now," Eddie says, "unless you've suddenly become interested in the local real estate, I suggest you leave."

"Are you threatening us?" Steve's mother asks.

"Not at all," Eddie replies, his voice low and dark and that honeymoon can't start soon enough, actually. "I'm making a promise."

The wind shifts and howls, kicking up loose dirt and weeds and swirling around Steve's parents. Their faces drain, becoming increasingly pale, and Steve's mother looks ready to try speaking again only for his father to place a hand on her shoulder. At least he's smart enough to know when they've lost.

Steve watches them retreat, the wind following them until they've left the cemetery, and then turns to Eddie. "You look so beautiful when you threaten people," he says, grabbing Eddie's collar and yanking him down into a searing kiss that his husband happily returns.

It doesn't last long before Dustin interrupts, literally shoving himself between the two. "They won't come back, right?" he asks.

"Well, they might," Steve says, reassuringly messing up Dustin's hair, "but they won't be taking you anywhere."

"Yep, you're stuck with us," Eddie adds, picking up Dustin and throwing him over his left shoulder. He grins as Dustin squeaks. "Now, let's go party."

Steve snorts and grabs Eddie's right hand, leaving his left free to hold Dustin, as they walk towards the reception. Now that he's paying attention, he can hear the band playing and laughter-filled conversations filling the silence of the cemetery. He can also smell a whiff of something delicious, his stomach suddenly growling as he realizes how hungry he is.

Thankfully, a plate is shoved into his hand the moment they reach the outskirts of the crowd by a short man with greased-back hair, a wild glint in his eyes, and a cigar hanging from his lips. Next to him, a hand on his shoulder, is a tall and pale woman with blood-red lips and a knowing smile. "There you two are," the man says, removing the cigar as Eddie drops Dustin to the ground and shoves him towards the crowd. "Took you long enough."

Dustin sticks his tongue out at Eddie before running off, leaving them in the dust to join his friends. Steve shakes his head at the kid as Eddie smiles brightly at the two. "There was some trash to take care of," Eddie says, shrugging as he steals a roll from the plate in Steve's hand.

"I assume it's been properly disposed of?" the woman asks, an eyebrow rising slowly.

Eddie shrugs, holding the roll up to Steve's lips so he can take a bite. "For now. Might need to make good on a few promises, though," he says, biting off a piece after Steve.

The man laughs, clapping a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Just let us know if you need any help, old man," he says, his grin wide and his eyes excited, "I always did love a good hunt."

Steve swallows the bread in his mouth and smiles at the two, finally getting an idea of who they are. "Gomez and Morticia, right?" he asks, his guess confirmed by Gomez's widening grin and Morticia's approving nod. "I've heard a lot about you. Thanks for the cutting from Cleopatra, by the way. Nix has been a great addition to the family."

Morticia straightens slightly (Steve didn't even realize that was possible). "You've named her Nix," she says, nodding once, "Fitting. How's her health?"

"She's gotten big enough to need three pounds of meat per week."

"How wonderful. She's almost matured. You've been taking very good care of her, then."

"Tish does love her plants," Gomez says, placing an arm around her waist and pulling her close in a familiar gesture. Maybe it runs in the family. "She grows the thorniest rose stems, you know."

Steve is about to respond when Eddie lights up, clearly seeing something that Steve doesn't. "Well, Stevie is haunting on the piano, not to mention how well he can swing a bat," he says, his chest puffing out slightly.

"Impressive! Tish is a killer at knitting and keeps her needles incredibly sharp."

"I remember she knit Pubert's onesies," Eddie says, and Steve swears he can hear a young man groan in the distance. "Stevie makes wonderful traps. I never see them coming until I'm hanging from the air and losing my breath."

Ah. Steve suddenly gets it. He looks at Morticia, silently asking if this is common, and her amused smile says it is. "Steve, walk with me while our husbands play together," she says, holding out her hand.

Steve nods and presses a quick kiss to Eddie's cheek before pulling away and offering Morticia his arm. She leads him around the crowd, staying on the outskirts. "I'd like to officially welcome you to the family," she says, his voice steady and reassuring and lingering. "You seem to fit in quite well."

"Oh, uh, thanks," Steve says, feeling that anxiety from before starting to churn in his stomach again. At least it distracts his stomach from the hunger. "This isn't, like, a threatening thing, right?"

"Would you like it to be?"

"Not particularly."

"Then, no. Not for now, at least. I don't see you requiring any threats, though. Everything I've heard about you tells me that you'll have no trouble adjusting to the Munson family and its Addams relatives. Just know that we watch out for our own, dear, and we gladly feast on those who would subdue us for we are always hungry."

Steve nods, finding that this aligns well with everything he's seen from Eddie, Wayne, and El. "I've always wanted a big family," he admits.

Morticia smiles at him, and it feels warm despite her initially cold demeanor. "And now you have one," she says, looking up and waving to someone in the crowd. "Speaking of, I'd like you to meet my children."

Three young adults slip out from the crowd, two boys and one girl. Steve already knows them, and he smiles, the expression only returned by the boys. "Wednesday, Pugsley, and Pubert, right? It's nice to meet you."

"We'll see about that," Wednesday replies, her voice dry and devoid of any inflection.

Pugsley, meanwhile, smiles brightly and claps Steve's shoulder. "Nice to meet you, Steve! Welcome to the family. How do you feel about explosives?"

"Good for some jobs, but lacking subtlety for others."

"I told you," Pubert says, shoving Pugsley aside to stand in front of Steve instead. "What about daggers?"

"Easy to hide but too subtle for some messages."

Pubert frowns slightly at this response but doesn't argue. Wednesday, meanwhile, stares at Steve for a few intense seconds before saying, "What are you afraid of?"

"Eddie being out of sight," Steve replies, not even needing to think of an answer. He glances over to where they left Eddie and Gomez, happy to see his husband is still there. Though, the two seem to have engaged in a sword fight at some point.

"How sickening," Wednesday says.

Steve looks back at her and grins. "Don't be jealous, Wednesday. I'm sure your partner feels the same," he says playfully.

She tenses slightly, seemingly unused to this kind of backtalk, but quickly relaxes. "You're interesting. I'll be keeping in touch." And with that, she turns on her heel and walks back into the crowd.

"Aw, man, she still has my kidney," Pubert says, quickly chasing after her. Pugsley shrugs, looking like he'd rather not be left out, and quickly follows Pubert after waving goodbye to Steve and Morticia.

"They like you," Morticia says, sounding pleased. "You should come visit us after your honeymoon. Where are you planning to go?"

"Paris and Rome. I want to see the catacombs in Paris, and Eddie wants to visit this museum in Rome where all the decorations are made with the bones of monks."

"Oh, how romantic," Morticia says, glancing to the side as the sound of swords crossing grows louder. She waits a few more seconds before saying, her voice staying the same volume as always, "Gomez."

The fight immediately stops, and Gomez seemingly materializes next to Morticia. He takes her hand, pressing kisses along her knuckles and up her arm. "Yes, cara mia?" he asks.

"How long has it been since we danced?"

"Hours," Gomez replies, grinning brightly as he pulls Morticia away and to the dancefloor.

Eddie appears next, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist from behind. "Stevie," he whispers, breath tickling the back of Steve's neck. "We haven't danced, either."

Steve snorts, places his plate on the nearest chair, and turns in Eddie's arms. "Well, lead the way."

With an excited glint in his eyes, Eddie drags Steve to the dancefloor as the band begins to play the waltz. A few other couples have begun dancing together, but they all make room as Eddie leads Steve to the very middle of the floor. He pulls Steve close, one hand on the small of his back and the other holding one of Steve's hands. Their fingers interlock, and Steve lets Eddie lead him around the dancefloor in graceful spins and flourishes.

"So," Eddie says, his voice quiet but immensely clear to Steve as the rest of the world fades away, "other than that brief interruption, how did you like the ceremony?"

"It was beautiful," Steve replies, sliding the hand on Eddie's shoulder to wrap around his neck and playfully tug on a lock of hair. "We should get married again."

"How does next month sound?"

"I was thinking of a wedding in Paris and one in Rome. Just for us, nobody else, with ancient bones as our witness."

"You say the most romantic things," Eddie says, his voice slightly dreamy. "I love you."

The waltz comes to an end as he says this, and Eddie leans down to kiss Steve as they continue dancing through the break in music. Steve smiles, letting his eyes slip shut and trusting Eddie to make sure he won't fall or trip on anything, and pushes his tongue past Eddie's lips.

"I love you, too," Steve whispers when the kiss breaks long enough to allow words. He's barely finished speaking when Eddie pulls him back in, drowning Steve in love and passion and promises of later.

Steve finds he doesn't mind the idea of never surfacing again so long as Eddie's lips never leave his own.

---

Tag List

(Tumblr has a limit, so I couldn't get everyone who's requested a tag, but I did try to get as many as I could)

@estrellami-1, @justforthedead89, @starman-jpg, @abstractnaturaldisaster, @sugartin, @ashwagandalf, @xjessicafaithx, @somegirlsomewhere, @imjust-that-shy, @blaqcats-fics, @littlebluejane, @xoxoladyclara, @halfadoginatank

@pjoneedstherapy, @nocturnalgayboi, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @justforthedead89, @gothwifehotchner, @elizbaehth, @angels-dressed-in-blood, @imfinereallyy, @oile-loves-sharks, @carlprocastinator1000, @stxrcrossed186, @spider-boygirl, @epiclazershark, @7shrewsinatrenchcoat

@perfectlymellowthing, @just-a-tiny-void, @nburkhardt, @nailbatandfreak, @sunfloweringstories, @vampireinthesun, @novelnovella, @bookworm0690, @bestwifehaver, @goosesister, @phantomcat94, @martinskis-lydias, @ghostofyourvampiregf, @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring

@nerdsconquerall, @dontslayfay, @potato-of-the-lord, @suikatto, @deliriousmom, @code-switcher, @lizard-dyk3, @anonymousbandgirl

[traumabuddies]

"why are you limping?"

This kinda turned into "2 times Buck's limping because sex with Eddie was too good and 1 time he wishes it was the reason"

"Why are you limping?"

Damn it, Buck thinks, closing his eyes at Bobby's question and begging the heat not to crawl too high up his face. He thought he might have been able to hide it, but clearly the hitch in his step is much too obvious to miss.

Buck is just glad he's early and no one else from A shift is at the station yet, because he would have never heard the end of it.

Definitely would not have been able to fool them all.

"Nothing," he says, washing his hands to join Bobby in making lunch at the counter. They've learned that it's better to cook earlier when they have time and reheat the food later than waste time doing it when they might only have minutes to sit down for lunch.

Bobby gives him a skeptical look. "Are you sure? If you hurt yourself on your last shift, you have to tell me."

"Yeah, cap, I'm sure," Buck says, wracking his brain for an explanation. "I think I have a cramp or something, it'll pass."

"Alright, if you say so. Hand me the knife."

Bobby seems happy to let it go, and Buck thanks whatever higher power is out there as he does what he's told.

He does not want to tell his Captain that his boyfriend fucked him so good last night he can barely walk—no thank you, he'd rather die.

—

Walking from stand to stand at the food market is more fun than Buck remembers being, although it might be because the sun is out without it being so hot that he's gonna get sunburned.

And walking isn't the most comfortable thing to do today, but it's worth going through if it means watching Jee-Yun tug on her dad's hand to get to the strawberries quicker—she's been on a strawberry kick lately, or so her parents have said.

Speaking of which, Maddie waits for Jee and Chim to be further along before stopping him with a hand on his wrist and frowning at him.

"Okay, why are you limping?"

Oh, god, no, not again. It was one thing for Bobby to ask last time, in a professional environment where Buck could guess he wouldn't push.

It's another thing for his sister to notice, because she does like to push when she's concerned, and Buck is also never able to lie to her.

"Well, uh," he says, balancing from one foot to the other. He regrets it immediately, hissing as pain flairs up his ass. The worst aprt is, he likes it. He's going to hell. "It's nothing, I think I, uh—twisted my ankle."

"Your ankle, Buck? Seriously?" she deadpans. "If you'd twisted your ankle, you'd have texted me about it to complaining about how stupid it is."

"No, I wouldn't, because I wouldn't want you fussing."

"But you're admitting that's not what it is?"

Shit. Her cocked eyebrow is incredibly annoying.

He huffs, feels his neck grow uncomfortably hot. "Come on, Maddie, can't you just let it go—"

"Evan," she gasps silently, her eyes going wide with the laughter she lets out a second later. Buck freezes. "I should have figured, the last time I was limping like this was when Chimn and I stayed at this hotel and—"

"Ew, Maddie, gross," Buck says, swatting her hand away.

He likes to hear her laugh, always, but she's being a complete menace right now, which isn't fair. He thought that was his job.

"Fine, fine, but you didn't deny it," she says, grinning up at him.

He rolls his eyes, but he once again finds himself victim to his inability to lie to her. "Yeah, well, maybe you're right, okay? But can we stop talking about it, please?" he begs through gritted teeth.

He's not mad, or annoyed, but honestly? Kind of embarrassed.

But Maddie just lights up even more. "Why, you deserve some good things! I should send a gift basket to whoever treated you so well."

It's his time to grin at her. "Well, you know Eddie's address."

He pats her shoulder, watches in real time as her brain short-circuits with that information, and then walks away to join his niece.

"Wait, Eddie?"

—

The door to his apartment opens and Buck definitely doesn't startle, because he was expecting it.

He just kind of, maybe, forgot that Eddie was coming over this early, and so he jumps where he's sitting on the couch, causing what feels like every muscle in his body to lock up.

"Hey, babe," Eddie says with a blinding smile when he finally comes into view in the kitchen, where he's laying out the take out food he promised he'd come with.

"Hey," Buck says, hissing as he gets up. The pain in his lower back and tail-bone is just as bad as it was thirty minutes ago, shooting up his spine with every step.

He must not be able to hide it, or maybe he's not imagining the faces he's pulling, because Eddie is at his side in a second, concern swimming in his eyes and painting his hovering hands.

"Buck, you okay? Why are you limping?"

Buck can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him, although it's cut short when he takes a last step towards Eddie to kiss his lips with a small peck.

"What's so funny?" Eddie asks, looking at him like he's crazy—he probably is.

"Nothing, it's just that usually when people ask me that it's because you've pounded me into the mattress like you were hoping I wouldn't be able to walk," he says.

He's rewarded with Eddie's rosy cheeks, the ones that only appear when Buck is being overtly flirty or raunchy with his words. He doesn't hdie anymore the way he did at the beginning, but his cheeks? They still flush, and it's always the most enjoyable sight.

And then Eddie frowns, checking Buck over.

"Wait, I know I didn't pound you into anything last night, so unless you got a little crazy with toys, what happened?"

With a grown, Buck lets himself fall into his boyfriend, hiding his face in his neck. "Fell down the stairs," he mumbles, hoping to distract Eddie with a press of his lips.

It doesn't work. Instead, Eddie lets out a soft, sudden laugh, but his hands on his lower back are soothing, like he knows exactly where it hurts. "And how did you manage that?"

"I don't know, I was going a little fast, I guess."

"So you were running. Down the stairs, like a child?"

"Leave me alone, I'm in pain."

"Enough to go to the hospital?"

"No," Buck says quickly, wrapping his arms around Eddie.

Eddie hums. "Well then, I get to scold you for being an idiot."

Every one of Eddie's words is lace with the kind of fondness reserved for him and Christopher, something soft and caring, that says, I'm here for you.

"But I'm your idiot," Buck says.

Eddie sighs, and kisses the crown of his head in the same breath. "Of course you are."

send me prompts!

[howyouloveyourdragon]

𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝕱𝖆𝖎𝖗

𝖗𝖍𝖆𝖊𝖓𝖞𝖗𝖆 𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖞𝖊𝖓 𝖝 𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖋-𝖘𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝔰𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔶𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔦𝔠 𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱

only fair masterlist

𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖎

𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔰 : 𝔰𝔥𝔢/𝔥𝔢𝔯 ( 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 : 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔶𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱 , 𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰𝔱 , 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔤𝔫𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔶 ) ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ : ²⁴⁰⁴

(𝔰𝔬𝔣𝔱 𝔫𝔶𝔯𝔞 𝔟𝔞𝔠к 𝔞𝔰 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔡)

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐒 𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 throughout the night as Rhaenyra joined you in your giggling. She didn't hold back as she made one jest after another. She couldn't help it when you looked so pretty and joyful. Your match wasn't made for lust and nor was it made for power, a trailing blaze warmed her as much as Syrax as she took your left hand in her own. She tried to look at you but one glance and she was gone again. Viserys watched his children, he watched as their eyes crinkled from joy and their teeth sparkled in the candlelight. For once he watched his Y/n appreciatively. He knew he wasn't the father she wished she had but it pleased him to see her happy. Alicent from beside him didn't appear so pleased as she stirred her goblet and stewed in her misery. She wouldn't let them out of her sight for a second. A lump lodged in her throat at the idea of her daughter riding Syrax, of being happy without her. Alicent's eyes glared as she tried to cast her mind to other things but the question still remained. Would Rhaenyra turn you against her? Alicent barely left you out of her sight for fear you would be stolen from her again. Truly how deep did Rhaenyra's hatred for her stem, surely this wasn't a ploy to hurt her even further... Her throat constricted and she choked once she spotted Rhaenyra's shoulder bump against yours. She tried to simmer as her husband crept his hand across to hold her firm. When he turned to her he smiled warmly and ever the obedient wife she returned it though not without her own nerves clearly present in her clenched face. Always the clever fool, Viserys ignored it and instead toasted to his sweet children's union.

She watched as Rhaenyra's face softened and as tough a candle had blown out so did her wonder. She had done this for her father's approval. Of course she had. She had taken everything and she would continue to take everything until Alicent lay on her deathbed. She stole her son's eye, she stole her daughter, she was now commenting on a possible union between Jacaerys and Helaena, stealing her other daughter in the process, she would take the throne...This was surely not about petty rivalry but an unadulterated desire to inflict a worse pain on her than she gave. It was only when Y/n raised her glass and smiled at her so fondly that her thoughts ceased. "I want to thank my mother," she said. Alicent's heart fuzzed at the sound, her head raised in surprise. She dropped her lower lip as she watched. She watched as Rhaenyra grasped her daughter's hand and squeezed in encouragement. She watched as the same warm smile Rhaenyra had sent herself in their youth to Y/n instead. She watched as they gripped and flirted with one another all night and day. Alicent watched. The light had finally found purchase once more in Rhaenyra's smile. "for she has given me love, warmth and prosperity." Alicent had nearly forgotten her Y/n was speaking she was so entranced in her face. It was kind and innocent and she wanted to hide it from the world, to protect her. "The miracle was not my birth as she claims." Y/n chuckled, Alicent joined her, dipping her head as the laughter left her. "it is the ongoing in her smile, how she doesn't understand but tries to." Y/n lip wobbled and soon Alicent's eyes pricked and her throat was engulfed in her own hand. Y/n took a deep breath. "The day has come where I must split my heart but I have every intention of half with you. I love you, mother." She paused before raising Rhaenyra to stand beside her, both of them giddy with excitement. The spell broke as Alicent's eyes drew to the hand her former-friend was now cupping your stomach with. A stomach she had not noticed had swollen. No...no...

Her eyes lifted in shock and despair as your smiling face lit up with glee. "We hope your love can expand a little wider." You laughed happily. She would never grow sick of the sound but she would at the meaning behind it. A wrench in her gut twisted as wickedly as Rhaenyra grin. "We are expecting another mouth to feed soon so we hope your hospitality is not conditional." The heir gleamed around the table as cheers and congratulations were spread amongst the room.

You beamed as your wife pressed you against her like a clingy bear and doted on you throughout the night but it didn't stop the intensity of your mother's prying eyes. The stare of betrayal wrestled itself inside her eyes and you were not so blind as your father as to be able to ignore it. But rather than argue with your mother you founnd yourself smiling in Rhaenyra's arms. Her elated heart pounded against you as though devoting her love for you and you relished in it. Your eyes closed as she soothed your head back. Her children had welcomed you and persisted their kindnesses to you throughout the year of your marriage and you couldn't love them more dearly if you tried. Jace took it upon himself to beam at you and talk excitedly about dragon eggs and Valyrian names and so you listened even though your weary eyes struggled to reopen themselves. Rhaenyra's warm and gentle kiss pressed against you lovingly, winding arms tugging you even closer. Viserys struggled to stand but did so nonetheless, a familiar smile of approval permeating. Your father was not the best of men but he cared for you, you knew that. He wanted you happy and that was enough as he led the chorusing well-wishes. Rhaenyra's hand lay soft against your bump and rubbed gently. Gone were her teasing smirks and brass nature, it had long since been replaced with longing glances and protective cups of your cheeks. The warmth of the dragon permeated like a waft of hope as your heart swelled at the sights around you, even Aemond offered a awkward smile from beneath his hard stare. You couldn't lie and say it hadn't been rough for your relationship with your brother. For as long as you could remember you were promising him a life of grandeur and he denounced so fervently and yet when you married Rhaenyra and he saw you jovial beside Lucerys who practically begged like a sweet dog for your approval, a strain has formed. Perhaps seeing your success in such a future might just help him...Okay maybe not but he was on the right track as he stood and whispered something in your mother's fretful ear.

As the Queen's brow became gentle you knew where his loyalties lay and with it came a release of pressure from your chest. He approached you with caution, glancing at Lucerys as he stepped closer. Aemond hesitated before he outstretched his hand to you. "May I request a dance, dear sister?" He asked respectfully and before you could answer, your wife lifted you from your chair and carefully wrapped your hand in his. As you glanced back at her, Rhaenyra's expression stood prideful and tender. You looked to your brother's hopeful face and nodded. "I would love to." You announced playfully. He snickered as he grinned. Rhaenyra's arm carefully unweaved itself from your waist. She nodded in encouragement and made her own feet pad toward Alicent. Aemond finally returned your smiling gaze and hummed. "I have to say," He murmured. "I had expected you to at least have children after I." You reeled back in mock offence and leant back as he took cautious movements as you danced around the room. From the corner you could spot Jacaerys requesting a dance from Helaena. "I am more sensible than the rest of you!" You disputed light-heartedly. Aemond beamed for the first time in far too long and reminded you of the hardship he had undertaken. The responsibilities he had taken in Aegon's stead. The guilt gnawed at you. Somewhere along the lines your steps slowed and the warmth between you felt more natural. "I'm sorry for leaving." You said. His eye traced the walls to avoid your patient face. Aemond shook his head. "You didn't choose to." He deterred. You sighed and watched your feet. "I also didn't stop it. Aegon is..." You sighed as you searched for the words. "Difficult?" Aemond suggested slowly. You both looked at one another and shared the same burdened smile. "Difficult." You agreed. "But you deserved a childhood as long as you were allowed one and I fear–" He groaned. "Please don't say you–" "Took it from you." You finished firmly. Your motions stopped and so did his. You hand hesitated as it rest against his face. "I'm your big sister, I'm supposed to look after you." Aemond sighed and cast his eye across the room until settling back on your own ones. "You are also a woman, I am a second-born son and should have been first for that I have both privileges and shortcomings but above all I wouldn't replace any of it." You could just make out the water starting to wet his eye. He shook his head and tried to blink them away. "Not if it meant staying your blood and I do not care who else your child shares it with. I will care for it as I care for you." A playful scoff left you. "'it' now is it?" "You said that when Daeron was born!" "I was only eight summers old!" "Your defence?" A harmony sounded in the joy of his laugh, something not heard in years. The peace had finally settled in his smile. "I'll miss you." You told him quietly. He nodded. "I know."

Rhaenyra wore a soft gaze when she looked at Alicent and hesitantly took a seat beside her. It was the first time that she shared that gentle smile with her in too long. Alicent didn't look at her as she leant her head against her hands. "I hope you're pleased, princess." Viserys had since left to speak and dance with Helaena. "You are winning." A frown graced across Rhaenyra's brow. "I do not wish to win, there is no fight." She uttered. Alicent scoffed and looked away. A trigger dropped across Rhaenyra's eyes, they fell to scour over her once-love's face. "There is always a fight." Alicent spat bitterly. "Only if you are searching for a war." Rhaenyra sighed in frustration. Her posture dropped against the chair, her sour mood unhidden. The tiniest ebb of guilt bit at the Queen. When the Targaryen looked at Alicent again she reached to grasp her hand. Alicent's face snapped so their eyes could meet and at the sight her hard gaze began to ease. "Your daughter loves you, she does not even care for what father thought, only you." Alicent's squeezed outside of her own volition but it brought a smile to Rhaenyra's face nonetheless. "She holds you dear to her heart and so do I." Alicent's heart clenched in the princess' grasp, the one it had never quite left. Her eyes lowered to their incriminating hands. "I only want her to be happy." Alicent breathed quietly, tears pricking at her. Rhaenyra's smile returned and suddenly they were children again sneaking through the castle and hiding lemon cakes in their pockets, giggling over the next gossip or another. Finally they mourned the life together they lost. Their eyes connected in a way only a Hightower and Targaryen could love. And eventually Alicent nodded and brought Rhaenyra's hand to her lips to lay upon her knuckles the sweetest of kisses. "You will." She assured. They sat in sweet silence until Alicent's chair scraped against the wooden floor. She left the remnants of her first love and with it cemented her support in her child's union.

Alicent's smile was pleasant when she finally reached her dear daughter. She tapped a deft finger upon your shoulder, successfully stealing your attention. It was surprise that painted your face when you saw her but it didn't halt you from accepting the dance she requested. Together your hands met and bodies welcomed one another. "I wish to give you something, sweet girl." Your mother said, pulling back and holding your hands. Your nerves spiked but calmed at her mellow expression. Alicent hesitated and for a moment you worried she would inquire of the same question she asked of you at your wedding, whether you wished to flee. Instead, she squeezed your hands as though she could read your thoughts for the first time and eased you. "There is a necklace I wore when your wife was named heir, it is golden and I know would suit you greatly." Alicent's breath shallowed and she looked down before rejoining your stare. "I know it would suit you far more than it ever did me." A throb settled in your heart. "It is only fair you are allowed the choices I was too scared of, my brave girl." She raised her hand to press gently on your cheek, patting the soft flesh. She leant her lips to press against your forehead and lingered before bringing you into a tight embrace. The safety of a mother's affection remained yours. "You always come first, child."

Taglist: @evattude

There will likely come more parts to this so if you want to be added to the taglist let me know below!

[kingmaker-a]

A piece of you for my lament | Karina

It's Complicated AU Related: Nocturnal Games

Warnings/Tags: Implied injuries though nothing is specified, Karina is surprisingly dour and reader is just trying their best despite how exhausted they are.

Sometimes it takes true strength to admit you're not enough.

Wordcount: 1.7k

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Another day, another loss… Well, that's far from the whole story. 

But it might as well be. 

Pain sinks its dastardly gnarly teeth before she's even truly conscious. The wince that trickles across her lips, gritting into a snarl against her teeth is familiar. 

Ragged shallow breath as her eyes try to flutter to life, to at least drag herself to her room in the hideout. 

To at least have some dignity… 

As if she could have any, how many times has she eaten shit so far? It's easy to lose count after the tenth time. 

A groan brushes past her soft lips, extradited by the slow twist of her tired ragged body, each movement is nearly sisyphean in nature. 

Perhaps she should be thankful when it's only her heart that jumps; her body too tired and unwilling as her eyes linger on your draped form coiled into some hopeful semblance of comfort. 

Still clad in your battlesuit, your helmet discarded somewhere to the side, still it's kind of cute the way you've taken to arguably the worst seating available. 

She can't help the way a smile dares its way across her lips, a coy tenderness unseen and unheard. Her leather jacket is the ever sweet cherry on top, a vain attempt at warmth or comfort. It's like watching an adult use a baby's blanket. 

But the fact that it's hers makes it endearing. 

Still a frown curls at the edges, pulled taut despite the pain that groans against her. 

You've seen better days. 

She can't help the concern that tugs at her heart as your features twist and contort caught in the fragmented edges of rest that you can manage. 

Sweat trickles at the edge of your brow tracing against sickly pale skin. 

She felt like death… But you? You're barely held together, all cut stitches and cello tape… Yet you drag yourself to the other side of it, amassing more bruises and cuts along the way. But you're used to it aren't you? 

Her gut wrenches against coiling waves, twisting underneath the turbulent roil of it all. 

You're used to it, that's what hurts more than the pain that crusts her skin, her brain is the deadly knife eking out a pound of fleshy torment with each stray thought. 

She can't help it, she really can't. 

She can't help the desperate burgeoning need to protect you, to prove herself forged in the fires of it all, instead she has to watch as you slowly fall apart, piece by piece. 

Drool trails and hangs off your lip, a precocious stream formed in the stupor of her thoughts. 

A chuckle trickles past her lips, shattering the moment like porcelain in a storm. 

Her small dainty piece of you, tiny and almost inconsequential. If it was in fact real, maybe it'd shimmer under the light and if it did, she'd hold it aloft and bathe in its incandescence. 

Perhaps if you hold it at the right angle and squint at it just right — but not too hard. You'd catch your reflection, big red nose and all. 

But that would be a lie, a make believe fairytale because that piece of you isn't real and it doesn't shimmer beautifully in the light, instead it's cast aside, washed away by the ravage of time and all she has is some facsimile of how she thinks she remembers that piece of you. 

But it's good enough. 

It's good enough for her to imagine the taste of surprise that lines your lips, when she kisses you so suddenly. 

To be fair, she wouldn't be able to help herself, you'd just make the dumbest face all twisted and strained. 

There would be that awkward moment where your teeth knock against each other because again she really can't help herself. 

It's cute and clumsy but it's made funny when it happens again because of course it fucking does. 

But she'll forgive you, especially because it is your fault that you smile too hard into it, billowing that hearty warmth just makes her melt. 

Your eyelashes tickle against her skin in just the right way, it's hard to find the time to breathe between all the breathy laughter or the sweltering heat that blooms in her chest, fingers cupping your face as she kisses you when she can, wherever she can. 

Again, she can't help it. Even when all the heat simmers down from a boil, even when you make a playful jab about how eager she was, earning you a playful smack across the shoulder. 

She loves you, that's simply it. 

Even if that moment never comes to pass, you stir as her chuckle reverberates. A yawn parts your lips as she catches those last fragmented echoes of the tired sore soldier you hide underneath it all. 

The serious piece of you.

Every bit as real as the snappy quips and the overall loser vibes… Though you're always cooler than you realise, not that she's ever voiced it. 

You always preferred being the loser anyway. 

You smile that dorky smile that errs on the side of cool, but never enough to actually be cool. It washes away all the tired grooves in your features, lifts the heavy weight of burden. 

"You did good," you point out. 

She squirms, though it doesn't quite reach her features, instead they pull into a thinly lined frown. 

"I ate shit."

Your smile blooms ever so slightly, and without even saying anything, pride bubbles in her chest. 

"That's what happens to all the cool kids."

She rolls her eyes, but she knows that you mean it, not in your weird twisted backwards logic of cringe being cool or cool being cringe. 

You were proud. 

Her lips swell at the corner tugging into the slightest smirk. 

"Is that why you don't do it anymore?" 

You pass her a wink at the click of your tongue, the slightest tickle of laughter builds in her stomach. 

It's hard to miss the way worry trickles in your eyes as they linger. 

You slowly tuck your fingers in against hers, soft yet calloused. 

Pain screams through her body, coursing with a scolding touch against every nerve in her hand. 

Still it's nothing compared to the anguish that lines her heart when you go to pull away. 

"Don't." She chokes as her grip tightens. 

Worried flecks echo and darken across your features crumbling against what thin veneer of okay you could manage. 

Your fingers retreat slowly. 

"Not yet… Please."

Tears well in her eyes as you pull away as pain echoes through her skull before she finds comfort cradled. 

It's not often she cracks in front of you, but there's a warm, tenderness held in your embrace as you slowly rock to and through that makes the pain almost bearable, she'd be fine come the morrow. 

Still a question poisons the tip of tongue, ghosting the edge of her mind even as she swaddles herself in your comforting embrace. 

Would you? The cracks cut deep in your flesh, inexplicably so and who would hold you? 

Her hand moves like an anchor, slowly and unwieldy as her arm barely obeys, her fingers slowly dances their way up your neck, caressing your cheek. 

Another piece, another fragment, yet it hurts all the more to see the tired cracks in your smile, barely held together. 

In those moments she bleeds, bleeds tears from her eyes coasted on the slowly gentle rock back and forth held between the two of you. 

She bleeds for you, the both of you. Her hand thumbs one last time against your cheek. 

Her voice runs hoarse as the thoughts fray and the words on her lips dry, it's odd the way the embarrassment finally catches up, burns at her ears with a searing heat. 

She musters a smile, even if it's her own very teeth that cut like jagged knives against her heart. 

She isn't strong enough to be selfish, not yet. 

"Jungeun," is all she musters, yet each syllable claws and drags like dry shattered glass and razor wire, it's caustic the way her name lines her throat. 

It bears no ill will, the pain that lumps her throat, after all it's just an admittance of what she lacks. 

One step at a time. 

Her thumb taps the edge of your lip, crushing any response that tinged the edge of your tongue. "Don't stay because you pity me… I'll be fine tomorrow."

Her heart aches when you frown, her eyes glistening with soft dew, her finger prods your nose. "But you won't be if you keep this up."

That's when the facade truly shatters, even if just for the moment, your grip tightens as mist slowly clouds your eyes. 

"I'm fine, I swear." your voice croaks and quivers as your hand trembles.

Perhaps that's the part of you that she actually hates… That's not quite right. She hates the part of you that foregoes yourself, tossed aside like the one thing that doesn't matter. 

It's a begging plea, but it's easy to see the flash of surprise in your eyes, a sullen tug of war against frayed nerves. 

"Do it for me, please." She was never good with arrows, but for the second time that night she hit a bullseye. 

After all that's one of your weaknesses isn't it? 

You press a kiss into her brow and she hates the way it makes all the physical pain fade away into pretty delicate embers. 

She laments that she can't be the one to cradle you in her embrace, but despite all her shortcomings, all her weaknesses, she's strong enough to cut pain into her heart so that you might get the respite you so desperately deserve. 

It takes all her strength to look up at you as lethargy slowly creeps in, her mind slowly fading into wispy echoes. 

Still she catches that brief glimmer of a smile. 

"Not until you're asleep okay?" 

Her lips curve into the slightest, unable to muster the energy to bloom into the same warmth that etches into her chest. She almost dares for more, but she's fading too quickly. 

Your lips brush against hers in a tender embrace of drowning comfort as sparks crackle and burn fading into the obscurity of sleep. 

But, perhaps that last part was fantasy, the work of an overactive imagination. But it's yet another piece she'd treasure until it all ends. 

She'll never notice the way you hold her in your embrace long after she's fallen asleep, fingers brushing through her hair with a proud smile or the way you linger far longer than you promised before the moment fractures like porcelain in a storm at the subtle buzz of your phone. 

A piece of her just for you.

[yabakuboi]

Eddie only just was able to get the barman's permission to perform this night, and glad he is for it, as his pockets have weighed lighter than ever before in his life. He'd be pleased to find pay in a tankard or loaf tonight, anything to fill his aching belly.

But he's lucky as the men and women here seem to be in high spirits. The land has long been in war since the king's death, rotten bastard he may have been. Eddie hadn't been sad to see him go, but the chaos that followed had ruined the smallfolk in consequence since their coward prince had fled the scene of his crime. The king had been cruel, but still he'd been their king, and the common people spit on the prince's name still, even when some new royal's been crowned and brought peace with him.

And that kind of ire is what feeds Eddie on nights like this.

"Kingslayer, kingslayer, little Prince Steven has run," he sings, bawdy and loud as the crowd of men around him sing along. "Run up the hills and past the sun, took our king Phillip and gutted him plain, our kingslayer Prince Steven, a coward more than a maid!"

They sing along with him, hooting and hollering all to the end of it, and pay him in copper coins and ale that Eddie takes happily, slurping it down as he rests by the fire.

It's then he sees the table in the corner, the cloaked figures surrounding it, and the woman glaring daggers at him. But more interesting than that is the most beautiful man Eddie's ever seen, smiling at him wearily, eyes bright and interested and a little sad. Eddie's got no fear of a quick tumble with dangerous men, so he takes his gittern and his ale and makes his way quickly to them.

"Fair night, weary travelers," Eddie crows as he wiggles himself between the woman and the beautiful man. "What brings you so far out from the capitol?"

The lot of them regard him with mixed interest, the older man not even looking up and a girl with firey hair treating him with a sign of boredom.

"What business is yours to know, bard?" she says, already turning her nose off to watch the rowdy tavern beyond their table.

"None at all," Eddie says, leaning into the man beside him, slinging an arm over his broad shoulder to feel the heat of him beneath his cloak. "I'm here to do nothing but entertain tonight, and I fear I've bored your table to tears! I do take requests you know, for the right coin."

This he says to the man under his arm, leaning in closer to get a good look at those pretty brown eyes in the dim light of the fire.

"We have no coin for you, sot," says the woman beside them, ire evident in her tone. "Be gone with you—"

"No coin, that's true," says Eddie's beautiful man. He smiles at Eddie now, pearly teeth and pretty lips, and Eddie would sing him any song for nothing more than to keep those eyes on him. "You'll have to forgive us, we're not good company I'm afraid."

"Richer company wouldn't be as sweet as yours, dove," Eddie tells him, watching the pink of his cheeks darken.

There's a gagging sound from across the table, and its then that Eddie realizes he's in the company of striplings. Two girls in men's clothes, both of them are young in the face and barely past their majorities. Yet still they are travel-worn, all five of them: the two girls, the woman and the dour man, and the beautiful budde under Eddie's arm.

Chuckling, he says to Eddie, "A wag you are, bard, with such empty words. Do you flirt so with all poor men you find?"

"None are poorer than me, sweeting, and none are more enchanting than you. It is payment enough just to look at you, and I would sing for an age and fill my empty stomach with just your smile, or your taste if you'd grant me—"

"Gods damned!" the woman Eddie's other side gusts. "I cannot hear another foul word." She stands then, and the two girls follow, one rolling her eyes and the other giggling quitely. The woman leans past Eddie and hisses into her companion's ear, "Be done with this fool swiftly, or I'll leave you to the wolves."

"You'd never," he says back to her, smiling at Eddie, face flushed pretty and dark even as he speaks.

"Hopper would never," she says tilting her head at the remaining dour man still sitting at the table, deep into his cups and paying no mind to any around them. "But I would sell you for tanner and a duck to the first bidder."

"I'm worth at least an ox," he tells her with a cocky grin, and Eddie might want more than just one tumble with this man. "Find a room and I'll find you when I please to."

She huffs and stomps off, the girls on her heels.

"So," Eddie breathes, leaning even further into this beautiful man, until his voice is a secretive whisper, just for the two of them to hear. "Tell me, sweeting, what shall I call you when I write songs of your beauty to sing across the land, until kings beg me to their courts to recount your grace, your smile and your laugh?"

This man, to Eddie's displeasure, seems to wilt, to grow weary once more, even as he smiles and leans close, his words scarcely a breath against the shell of Eddie's ear.

"If it pleases you, and I'm sure that it won't," he confesses. "You can call me Steven."

[tanema123]

Managed to finish one drawing for now. Here we got dark fairy Zestial and Human Carmilla au.... I also wrote a short story.

Lost and found

Why has this happened to her?

Carmilla has been running frantically through the tangled tree branches. The trees surrounding her were as ominous and untamed as the place itself. The dark forest.

She should have known this might happen when she moved here. Her daughters have ventured somewhere, inside the forest.

The house she stayed at was just at the edge, too tempting and alluring for her young ones, who are as curious as any children were. Clara and Odette.

She shouted out their names in now strained voice. She has been calling out to them for hours, hoping to receive some sign, some sound, some hope.

Just as she was about to lose her hope completely, she noticed a light in the distance and some soft whispers. Thinking, it was her daughter, she ran to it.

She came upon a strange sight. There. In the middle of a dark forest... Was a green clearing of soft grass. The air was cleaner as well, making it easier for her tired lungs to breathe. Though the atmosphere itself was intriguing, it wasn't as much as what stood in the middle of it all.

An old tree, almost as big as a castle was rising up to the sky, getting lost in the clouds. How come no one ever noticed this? This should be visible from even beyond the forest? What kind of magic spell was this? Even more, are her children here?

She ignores her confusion and worry to continue the search. She gotta find her kids. She pushed her feet forward onto the grass, towards the tree while calling out their names.

As she inspected the giant tree, she noticed a huge hole, surrounded by dark green vines. Just as she took a step forward to inspect the hole, a purple light came from it.

A purple mass collected in the middle of it and started to spread across the opening, till a portal was formed. Carmilla could only stare in wonder at what was occurring, confused beyond belief, that is, until something came through.

A dark figure emerged. He was taller than her, with a coat dropped over his shoulders that covered his skinny, skeleton-like body. His head resembled a skull with a massive jaw tattered with teeth. But, the most ominous thing wasn't any of that... It was his eyes, 2 pairs of luminescent green, glowing in the night.

Carmilla's eyes widened at the sight. She knew who he was. She was warned about him when they moved here, but thought it was just a fairy tale spread by the local village.

There is a dark creature that resides in a forest. The dark fae. He wasn't always like that. That is until a hunter came and took his wings. Hunter has not been seen since and the creature has decided that all of humanity is doomed. Anyone who ever entered after the incident into his domain, disappeared without a trace.

Have her daughters come here? Were they taken? She has to get them back! Glaring at the creature she took a fighting stance, memories from her knight days sinking in.

The creature turned it's head to the side in a confusing manner. It's eyes seemed to soften as he scanned Carmilla standing nearby. He opened his mouth and surprisingly, english words started to pour out.

"Holla th're, fair maiden. What hast hath brought thee h're to mine own domain"

Carmilla's eyes widened in a bit of surprise. His voice was deep, husky, but he didn't sound dangerous. What is going on here? Shouldn't he have already attacked?

She lowered her stance, but stayed on alert. She wouldn't answer this question. This creature's intent is still unknown. Instead she glared, assessing him down once more.

The creature looks at her even more curiously now. He really is confusing.

"Wherefore aren't thee afeard?", he asked while tilting his head even more. She raised her eyebrow at him. What kind of Dark Fae was this? Carmilla barely responded due to weirdness of this situation, "Huh?".

"Nay math'r. Art thee looking f'r the girls?", he said while lowering his head towards her slightly. Why is he sounding more and more like a small puppy?

Carmilla decided he is not a threat for now. He does seem frightening on the outside, but... His stance, his manners, his speech... This creature is not what he seems.

She answers truthfully, as she needs to know about the girls. "Yes... Have you seen them?"

He smiled, she thinks, as his jaw does rise on the sides, as he re-enters the portal. Just a few seconds later, he emerges, holding two sleeping girls in his arms. Carmilla sighed in relief knowing her daughters were safe.

The creature took a couple of steps before lowering them to the ground. Their sleeping forms snuggled together immediately upon contact to the ground.

He retreated back to the portal quickly. Seems like the fae knew Carmilla isn't comfortable being too close to him. He does seem to have some experience with humans.

Carmilla quickly rushed to her daughters, easily picking Clar and Odette in her arms. Little 8 year old twins were just coddling up to their mother, their slumber unbroken. Camilla smiled at the sight of her daughters, kissing each stop of their blond heads.

She went to thank the Fae, but... He was already gone. With him the purple portal disappeared as well, leaving only the empty hole in its wake.

Carmilla couldn't do anything else but go home, so she did. She stumbled through the dark forest, slowly with her daughters in her arms.

Somehow, the trip home was extremely short, just a couple of mere minutes. As she entered her home, and put her daughters in their own beds she wondered if it was his doing...

The mysterious dark Fae that everyone warned her about... Yet has helped her so graciously and easily. She signed as she sat on her bed, pondering over the previous events.

How come he helped her?

Was it just a coincidence? Or was it an attempt of some kind? A deceit to get her to trust him? But... If that was the case, he would have already made a move.

Fae are powerful creatures. Stories describing them always mention how tricky and cunning they are. Powers they hold are unknown, but anyone that gets on their bad end never lives to see another day.

She finally laid down fully, exhaustion hitting her hard. The last thing she thought of, before her eyes fully closed, were of the Fae that helped her... Would she ever see him again?

[pinkydevil16]

Aemond targaryen x targaryen reader: part 22

Daemon had taken matters into his own hands, hiring assassins to kill one of Aegon's brats and tasking them to get his daughter back. He had wanted to go but Rhaenyra had suffered greatly, the loss of her son and the capture of her daughter resulting in her losing her baby. The stress pushing her to an early labour which Daemon had worried neither would survive, he had been clear to the maesters to keep his Nyra alive no matter what. He believed a son for a son to be fair, he had not told his wife yet she needed to rest and heal after the birth. Jacaerys was due back from his mission in a few days, Daemon decided to fly out to make sure the greens wouldn't attack him, Rhaenys staying with her niece. 

As the assassins creeped through the castle, splitting up, one to go collect the princess and another to avenge Lucerys. Y/n had only been brought back from the cells two days prior, only venturing out with Aemond at night. Aemond had taken a liking to Y/n riding him on the throne, his ego growing when she would call him King. Her dark words of him taking the throne and how feared he could be. He would whisper to her of all the children they would have, his sons sitting on the throne. A pure bloodline to keep the Targaryen name strong. He would often laugh when he said strong, a subtle stab at her family which she would grind her teeth and bare the spark of pain she felt. He didn't believe her intentions were pure, he understand her manipulations trying to get him to take the iron throne but she was being everything she wanted. Accepting him even if he knew she wanted him for different reasons, but she needed him. She wanted him, begged for him and had clung to him in her time of need. He protected her, it was how he could convince himself she loved him. She was aware if she killed him, tried to atleast there would be no more chances. His mother had visited her one morning and held a dagger to her throat, any black blood was not good enough for her son. Reminding her it would be easier to deal with a grieving Aemond than an angry one, Alicent had no idea of what would truly happen but she feared an angry Aemond more having seen the wild way he reacted to Y/n escaping. It had been helpful, he had struck fear into the people of kingslanding of what would happen if they betrayed the greens. He had gotten rid of not one but two enemy dragons and the bastard who took his eye and her sources told her the grief had made Rhaenyra weaker. It would only be a matter of time before she would fall and all of her allies would turn to the greens for forgiveness. 

Once prince Jahaerys was murdered, the two assassins, Blood and Cheese searched for the princess. They did not have much time but searched high and low, finally finding her alone in a chamber, stood by a chained window staring at the sky. Turning around she began to speak believing it to be Aemond

"I thought you had to train.." she trailed off as she saw the random men in her room, her dark green robe dragging along the floor as she moved to get a drink, sighing loudly as she poured a large cup of wine. Downing it before turning back to the two men.

"If you've been sent here by the queen to kill me, can i request to be thrown from a window so i can feel the rush of flying once more." 

"My princess we are here on orders of your father to bring you home." The two men presenting her the seal of her farher, she recognised it instantly. Y/n's eyes widening running towards them, pulling them into the room and slamming the door behind her.

"Can you promise i will get out. I cannot try unless you are certain, no doubt in your mind i will be able to be free." She spoke quickly, when they nodded she began running to change not caring for her company. As she stood in front her, her boots on and hair braided quickly behind her head.

"If Aemond sees you must make it seem as though i am fighting, i will scream and cry, if you don't think it's going to work threaten to kill me." Her eyes fierce. The two men agreed and snuck her from the room, taking out guards quietly as they pulled her through the tunnels below the castle. She could hear the screaming of what she assumed to be a servant, the trail of guards leading Aemond and his guards to her. Aemond ran around the corner, seeing Y/n being dragged, a hand around her mouth as she cried and screamed. Her hand pulling free to reach out to him as the two large men picked her up. Blood could see more guards coming behind them, it was unlikely they would get her out. Pushing her against his as he placed a knife to her throat. Aemond stopped all his men, shouting at them to not get nearer.

"Give her to me now." Aemond demanded, his hand outstretched, Y/n now full sobbed against the man, Aemond's heart breaking as he watched her. Her hands digging into Bloods arm as she stared at Aemond, her body shaking wildly. The two men were impressed by how quickly she had been able to act so scared, unaware she was just terrified of Aemond knowing she'd left willingly. A fight quickly broke out, the two men throwing Y/n towards Aemond, she couldn't risk them being caught so she fell into him and cried. Aemond pulling her away, the two men managing to escape. Y/n clung to him, her arms around his neck and he held her. Whispering to her she was safe, he was there and he had protected her. He tripled the guards around the chambers, laying with her on the bed as she told him what happened.

"They broke in, i was about to leave to watch you train. The two guards had agreed to take me to see you, they grabbed me and began running. I hit the taller one but they were too strong for me i screamed for you but they shoved their dirty hands over my mouth." Y/n stood abruptly grabbing a cup and filling it with wine, reminding herself to keep the story simple, remember it as though it was her name. Pushing tears out as she turned, downing the cup and reaching out to Aemond who pulled her into a hug. 

"I'm so proud of you for fighting them, they killed Halaena's son Jahaerys i suspect they were sent by your mother." He pet her hair as he spoke, he was so happy with her. She'd tried to stay with him, tried to fight them off and ran to him. Y/n shook her head holding to him tighter.

"Can we sleep? I want to feel safe in your arms." Y/n tugged on his arm, both dropping to the bed and cuddling. Her head on his shoulder as she ran her hand up and down his torso. An escape would never be possible on her own, she needed either an army or a dragon capable if taking down Vhagar. She kissed his cheek and closed her eyes. Aemond watched her sleep, petting her head thinking how lucky he was. 

what does everyone think? Also does the taglist work?

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[writeforfandoms]

Congrats on 2k followers!!!!

Can I please request reader x bear shifter! Price please :) with the prompt " get behind me" from the protective prompt list :)

🌟🌟🎆🎇🎆 congrats again!!!

Man y'all love bear!Price, I am living for all these shifter requests

Warnings: mentions of drugs, forced drug use (not reader), forced shifts, more of the drug from ch 7.

--

This wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't supposed to be here. Then again, nobody could have known this would happen.

This was supposed to be an easy job, something for you to do while John was off working.

Instead you were trapped between two packs, both alphas growling and snapping, your presence the only thing that was keeping things from getting worse.

"Explain it to me," you said, calm but firm, looking between the alphas without looking either one in the eye.

"This is our territory," one snarled, eyes wild and gold, teeth a little too sharp to be human.

"These vermin," the alpha you were working with hissed the word, her nose wrinkling in distaste, "are not shifters. They're poorly adapted druggies, and they'll try to get my pack involved in their shit."

Druggies? You swallowed hard. Oh this was bad. This was very bad. "I'm not the law," you said slowly, calmly. Trying to portray calm and trick everyone, yourself included. "However, if there is a territory dispute, I'm certain it can be settled."

"No dispute," she hissed, low and angry. "This is our territory and we will not give it up without a fight!" Behind her, her pack murmured their agreement, feeding off their alpha's anger.

The other pack alpha hissed, baring far too many teeth. Oh this was bad. Even worse when one of his tapped his shoulder, leaning in close to whisper something too quiet for you to hear.

The alpha's expression morphed from anger to glee, and dread washed down your spine.

"If that's how you feel," the alpha said, far too smug, one hand digging into his pocket, "then let's have a fair fight." He pulled his hand out and threw something into the air.

White powder.

"Back up!" you yelled, immediately backpedaling. But it was already in your hair, on your skin. It wouldn't affect you, since you were human, but the two packs...

The alpha you were working with had moved too, but too slowly. You watched with no small amount of terror as her eyes went yellow and she shifted. Behind her, three of her four packmates shifted as well, all of them caught up in the effects of the drugs.

The opposing pack were all shifting, eager for bloodshed.

And you were still stuck in the middle. Not right between them anymore, but very much in the danger zone.

You swallowed hard, gaze darting between the two groups in the moment of silence, waiting for the tension to snap.

A wolf leapt, and pandemonium descended.

You backed away quickly, breathing fast. There was nothing more you could do, not with drugs in the mix. A coyote yipped, high and sharp, and you winced in sympathetic pain as a wolf grabbed it by the scruff.

For a few moments, you thought you'd be fine. You'd backed off pretty quick, avoiding any of the actual fighting.

And then a wolf looked at you. Right at you. They bared their teeth at you, hackles up, advancing slowly.

John was absolutely never going to forgive you for this.

"Get behind me."

You'd know that voice anywhere, and you physically perked up before scampering back behind John, taking a moment to look. He was fully kitted out and wearing a gas mask. "What--?"

"Shit luck," he grunted, moving to keep you firmly behind him. "Gaz?"

"On it," Gaz responded, moving up next to you, further blocking you from view.

The first shot didn't come from one of them, but from somewhere behind you. You jumped but they weren't surprised.

"John--"

"Knocking them out, love, that's all," John assured you, taking out the wolf before anyone else could get hurt. "They'll all be given medical attention."

You relaxed again and watched as the team took down the two packs with precision, until no one was left standing. Some of the shifters were injured, but everyone looked alive.

Gaz stepped away to start checking them, and Soap jogged past you to join him. John turned and started checking you over, controlled but not calm.

"I'm okay," you assured him, though you didn't try to stop him. "I mean, I'm probably covered in powder, but I'm not hurt. I backed up, managed to stay out of it."

John breathed out slowly, his gloved hand settling at the nape of your neck. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure," you agreed, already steadier. "I'm just a walking hazard to shifters right now."

"Like that's any different," Gaz muttered loud enough for you to hear. You snorted.

"Need to get you showered, love," John murmured.

"Take her," Soap called. "We've got this handled, aye?"

"Go," Gaz encouraged.

John nodded once, his hand squeezing gently. "Let's get you cleaned up and debrief," he murmured to you.

"Okay," you agreed, soft and easy.

And if John ended up in the shower with you, well... You certainly weren't going to tell anyone.

[anathemafiction]

Helloooo! I was wondering how do the ROs measure up self esteem wise? Like how do they see themselves? Do they think they’re attractive? Ugly? Why? What’s their favorite and least favorite quality about themselves? Please answer as much or as little as you want! Thank you <3333

Hadrian is close to oblivious to his own good looks. He doesn't suffer from any self-esteem issue, nor is he self-conscious about any part of himself — he just doesn't feel any sense of pride about it either. He's never really thought about it. He didn't have a reason to for most of his life. 

Now that he's a mercenary and experiencing more of the world... he's starting to become more aware of his appearance, but so far, Hadrian is still pretty clueless. He's a conventionally attractive man, but I don't think he'd called himself so. He wouldn't call himself ugly, either. To him, he's just... he's Hadrian. 

Alessa isn't so oblivious. She knows she can attract eyes, and that's something she has used to her advantage before. She doesn't like it very much, though. Alessa would rather not be noticed a all, and she does a pretty good job of it. As what she thinks of herself? Alessa likes her eyes and she likes her body — because it's healthy and able, and she can run fast, jump or duck, or do whatever she needs to stay alive. 

She... tolerates her hair. She's seen women with long, midnight locks of silky hair, and jealousy is for fools, but Alessa felt something akin to it. Sometimes, while she's brushing her hair, she wishes it could be longer and darker and softer too. She wishes her hands, scarred and wounded, could be as delicate as those noblewomen. She wishes...

But wishing is for fools, and Alessa wishes nothing at all. 

Alain thinks himself extremely handsome. It's not even a front, the man really believes it. And, to be fair to him, he is. He looks good, he feels good, Alain has no self-esteem issues — not when it comes to his looks. 

Ysabella is very much like Alain, although she wasn't always so. As a young girl, she wished she could have freckles — she wished it so hard for months on end. But then freckles weren't half as important as having a bottom nose, all delicate and full and so unlike hers. She prayed every night by her window, with her eyes shut tight, but alas, the Lord never granted her a different nose. It didn't matter though, because young Bella saw a beautiful, beautiful girl with braided golden hair, and oh! She suddenly wanted hair the color of gold too. 

With time, Ysabella stopped wishing for any other body than hers. Which wasn't very hard to do when you look like her. She likes what she sees in the mirror, although, I wouldn't say Ysbaella considers herself beautiful. Charming, yes. Lovely, even, but not beautiful. But there's no one part of herself that she'd change. 

The Pirate King doesn't think he's particularly good-looking, but that doesn't matter a bit because attractiveness, he's found, comes from how one carries himself. And there are few things women answer as strongly as confidence. He's scarred, his hair is wind battered, his skin rough from the sun, his teeth crooked in places — and even so, the Pirate walks with a swagger, hands firm on the handles of his axes, and he doesn't feel a little bit ashamed. 

Plus, he thinks he's got a great sense of style. He isn't ugly, and if there's one thing he likes about himself is his muscles. He knows he looks good naked. Other than that... if fate had granted him just a little bit of extra height, he wouldn't have opposed it. 

Neia is an interesting one. On one hand, she's very aware of the effect she has on women. She doesn't need to try very hard to win someone to warm her bed, it usually just entails a sharp look, a slow smile, and a nudge of the head. On the other hand, Neia barely looks in the mirror. She just doesn't care. She has a deep scar on her cheek, twisting her lip in a perpetual snarl, and she couldn't care less. She has broad shoulders, thick thighs, and harsh hands, so unlike what's expected of women — and again, she thinks nothing of it. 

Has she been called ugly? No, but who would call the head of the Inquisitor anything but "Your Excellency"? But if some suicidal fool did call her ugly, Neia would think nothing of it. She wouldn't call herself that, though. 

Lance will tell you he has no balms about his appearance. Look at him, he'd say, with his arms opened wide. Look at his vest, his hair, and the gold on his tooth. He wants to be seen, and why would one want to be seen if one didn't think one was worth seeing? His smile is wide and pleasant, his eyes amused, and you wouldn't think for a moment that the spy was lying. 

But lying he would be because Lance has parts of himself that he doesn't like. Or maybe like isn't the right word. There are parts of himself that Lance can't even look at. Is he ashamed of them? He is. Would he change them? In a heartbeat. 

Does he consider himself handsome? He does not. But, then again, what do looks matter when compared with talent? And if there's one thing Lance knows he has, is talent. 

Rafael thinks he's... Rafael doesn't like to think about himself much. To be honest, the bastard doesn't think he's very good-looking, no, but in the grand scheme of things, that doesn't matter much. His character flaws — his choices — are the things Rafael is truly ashamed of. So what if people don't like his hair or insult his goatee, or say his cloak needs replacement? He'll sneer at them, maybe throw an insult or two, and put them off his mind. 

He doesn't care. He doesn't care at all. But he flinches every time, and when he's talking to someone he finds attractive, Rafael will sometimes have trouble holding their gaze. And he avoids smiling too, because there's a gap in his teeth, and when he takes off his shirt, he's aware he's too scrawny. He's too goddamn—

Doesn't matter though. To hell with them all. Rafael doesn't care.

[hrodvitnon]

Woe! Another SIGNALIS fic preview be upon ye!

---

"Noooo," Ariane whines.

"You don't have to do it right this second, but it does need to get done."

"I don't wanna."

"Not right now, I said. Also, it is your turn."

"I'm doing a thing."

"Okay, but consider: it's still your turn."

"Okay, but consider this, and you may take it as an order, LSTR-512..." Ariane stands at her full height as imperiously as possible even with Elster half a head taller than her, fists haughtily planting themselves at her hips in a show of establishing dominance.

The scout officer squares her shoulders, puffs her chest out and looks her Replika subordinate in the eye, stating with all the authority her position affords, "Bite me." She tops it off with a self-satisfied lift of her eyebrows, an unspoken 'whatcha gonna do about it?' hanging in the air.

Elster stares at her for all of three seconds, long enough for one to reach multiple ideas of what she will, in fact, do about it. Repeatedly prod at Ariane's defenses over how it's her turn and it wouldn't be fair for Elster to do the dishes twice in a row, simply stand silently in a staring contest until Ariane gives up, or hoist the woman over her shoulders and carry her kicking and screaming to the appliance in need of emptying. What Scout Officer Ariane Yeong does not consider is the etymology of her Replika's namesake and how that will unexpectedly be made manifest.

Elster means magpie. Magpies are corvids, like ravens and crows. Corvids are intelligent, resourceful, and mischievous.

The instant those blue eyes narrow fractionally, the corners of her mouth ever so slightly curving upwards, Ariane realizes her mistake.

Elster lunges forward with teeth bared to snap at Ariane's neck. The petite Gestalt shrieks and dodges out of the way; Elster clearly doesn't mean to actually bite her, but the suddenness of it has her heart hammering and a breathy, startled laugh bubbles out of her. Elster locks eyes with her, crouched slightly like a predator about to spring an ambush.

"You wouldn't dare!" Ariane gasps.

"Just following orders," Elster quips and clicks her teeth.

Ariane eyes the door just behind Elster and feigns a step to the right, the Replika copying her movements. Now she rushes to the left, ducking over Elster's grabbing arms and makes a break for it, smacking the door panel so escape opens itself to her. Metallic hooves stomp after her and Ariane bursts into laughter, skidding right towards the ladder and sliding down it to lower deck with a dogged technician bolting after her. Oh, this is new! This is exciting! She rushes for the stern observatory, looks behind her and Elster is scurrying low to the floor, invoking a schlocky monster flick they'd riffed to hell and back the other cycle, eliciting more cackling as the chase goes on. Ariane should be a pain in Elster's ass more often if she has this to look forward to!

The plan is to use the chairs in observation to place a barrier between them so she can double back in search of a hiding place, but Ariane has never been athletically inclined and she's being hunted down by a scouting Replika. The observatory door only barely opens before she's caught, strong arms locking around her middle and pulling her off the floor, Elster barking out a victorious laugh. Ariane laughs with her, feet kicking and only halfheartedly trying to squirm away.

"Okay, okay! Mercy! I'll do the—"

The word dishes is just on the tip of her tongue when she feels Elster's teeth on her neck.

Ariane suddenly chokes into a gasp that morphs into something else. She freezes, face burning, sucking her lips between her teeth. Elster locks into place, her jaws releasing the spot where she'd nipped pale skin. Ariane musters the bravery to look over and sees their faces close together, close enough to touch. Elster's eyes wide, a flush growing on her face. She didn't know Replikas could blush. If this were a scene in her books, this would be the prelude to a heated kiss. Ariane glances down at Elster's lips, recalls an indirect kiss from some time ago, and licks her own; Elster leans in a fraction of an inch, eyes half-lidded. Ariane holds her breath. She turns her head just so.

[marwritesgood]

They Assume You Know Nothing

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader

Summary: Y/n brings her boyfriend, Steve, home to meet her dad for the first time.

series masterlist // main masterlist

A/N: this is a side-story (though technically a back-story) to my Steve series, Cardigan.

i definitely recommend reading at least the first two parts of the main storyline for context before reading this, if you haven't already!

January, 1983

Y/n had sobered up just barely enough to walk straight, and knew it was time to call it a night. Her heels were killing her feet, her winter-ball dress now had an assortment of stains and all she could think about was her morning shift the following day.

She marched toward’s the deck of Carol’s home and tapped her date’s shoulder.

“Danny, can you take me home now?” Y/n crossed her arms and waited for her date to finally shift his attention away from the keg stand competition happening.

“Huh? Yeah, sure,” Danny mumbled after giving Y/n all but a moment's once over. He put his red solo cup down on the outdoor table and stumbled forward as his hand slipped into the pocket of his jeans. He barely noticed Y/n's change of expression.

“Are you drunk?”

Y/n kissed her teeth and took a step back. She didn't need a yes or no response from him to know the answer. Danny smirked and reached for her hand.

“Wh- don’t worry, I’m a great driver," he defended, his speech slurred and eyes practically closed. Tommy's overconfidence had clearly rubbed off on the Hawkins High basketball team's center.

“Just forget it,” Y/n scoffed, turning around to head back inside. Danny stepped forward and reached for her waist. She whipped around and swatted his hand away in annoyance.

“Wh- C’mon, don’t be mad," Danny mumbled. Y/n narrowed her eyes at the inebriated sophomore and poked his shoulder roughly.

“I specifically asked you not to get shitfaced,” she hissed. If it weren't for the agreement they made, she would have never agreed to be his stupid date and needed him to know that. Y/n was not his girlfriend, much less a close enough friend to judge his drunken judgement.

“I’m not shitfaced!”

“You can’t even keep your eyes open, Danny!” Y/n watched him blink and stumble over yet again. She huffed, realising reprimanding him was a lost cause. He probably wouldn't even remember she was his date by the time he woke up the next morning. “You know what? Just go back to doing your stupid keg stand.”

He didn't need to be told twice. Y/n hated how disappointed she was that he didn't at least apologise. She scoffed and headed back inside, determined to sink herself into Carol's parent's sofa once more.

“Do you need a ride home?”

Y/n stopped in her tracks. Steve had come out of nowhere. He had the key to his car ready at his hand and seemed to be in far better shape than Danny. Even so, Y/n narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, unsure.

“Are you drunk?”

Steve shook his head sheepishly, knowing he was probably the only guy at the after party not wasted.

“I stopped after Tommy barfed on the porch."

He could not bring himself to reveal the whole truth. That after watching her dance with some other guy the whole night, he had given up on trying to drink his sorrows away. There was no getting over it anytime soon. Steve spun his keys around his finger and smiled crookedly at a still skeptical Y/n.

“I was gonna leave anyways,” he added.

Y/n cocked her brows in surprise.

“King Steve’s calling an early night?”

He inhaled sharply. After the night he had, he was feeling far from the overconfident keg stand record-breaker he had become known for at parties. Even so, Steve straightened his spine and smiled nonchalantly.

“He has a fair maiden to escort home.”

Y/n cringed.

“Now I’m about to barf.”

He faked a scoff before chuckling quietly. Y/n smiled at the carpeted floor before meeting his gaze, the knots in her stomach finally easing. Why did he have that effect on her?

“Thank you," she murmured, before following him out.

Y/n had ridden in the infamous BMW a handful of times prior, but still sat stiffly in the passenger seat with her hands on her lap, just as awkwardly as the first time. Steve was not oblivious to it. As they rode in silence he kept thinking of ways to break the ice, but found himself tongue-tied every time he glanced over at her.

He sighed defeatedly and focused on the road ahead. They passed through the suburbs and the blocks of stores and headed towards the trees. Steve’s attention was divided solely between the road and the portion of her dress he could see in his peripheral. Not on the glowing empty signal.

The engine sputtered loudly as they passed the last few houses before the road to the woods, prompting Steve to slow down.

"Oh, shit," he cursed, pulling over to the side of the road. Y/n blinked in confusion.

"What just happened?"

Steve turned the engine off and took his key out of the ignition. Running a hand through his hair he looked down sheepishly.

"I... forgot the gas was running low."

Y/n crinkled her brows in concern, watching intently as Steve instinctively rolled his window up and grab his denim jacket and wallet from the backseat.

"So, what now?"

"I think we passed a gas station, so I'll have to walk there," he explained, opening his door and stepping out. Just as he did, Y/n unbuckled her seatbelt and did the same. She took but two steps forward before noticing Steve staring at her.

"I'd rather go with you than sit alone and wait," she reasoned.

Only it wasn't confusion that led to his staring, it was infatuation. Even under a dimly lit streetlight, she looked breathtaking in her winter ball dress. Steve finally broke his gaze and nodded, meeting her at the front of his car before they both continued down the side of the road.

The first block they walked consisted of nothing but the familiar quiet and the sound of Y/n's high heels clicking against the stones on the ground. Steve cleared his throat.

"So... you and Danny?"

He waited nervously for her reaction, mentally kicking himself for being such a wimp. If he hadn't panicked the first opportunity he had to ask her to be his date, Danny would have never had the chance to beat him to it.

Y/n furrowed her brows immediately and shook her head profusely, completely oblivious to the sigh of relief Steve let out.

"Oh my god, no," Y/n shuddered.

"I just thought-"

"He told me if I was his date, he'd stay sober enough to drive me home so I could go to Carol's party," she explained, feeling an impending urge to make clear that Danny was a one-time date. Y/n looked at Steve and smiled crookedly before turning back to the footpath. "I think he just didn't wanna be the only guy on the basketball team to show up without a date to the dance."

Steve winced.

"Ouch."

"Sorry, I didn't-" Y/n turned to Steve and frowned. "If it's any consolation, I think I we'd have been better off just going alone."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah," she groaned.

All night, Danny raved on and on about himself, to the point where Y/n could barely get a word in. The rare times she was able to share something about herself, his attentionnwas elsewhere- often with the rest of his teammates and whatever it was they were doing or talking about.

Her words echoed in Steve’s mind, tempting a question he had toyed with all night but hadn’t dared to ask aloud. He placed his shaky hands in the pockets of his jacket and coughed quietly.

"What... was there someone else you wanted to go with instead?"

Her breath hitched and she an impending warm sensation grow on the apples of her cheeks. She glanced at him then quickly looked away when their eyes met.

"I… I don't know," Y/n whispered, despite knowing exactly who she would have preferred.

She couldn't bring herself to admit it yet. Not until she was sure the feelings were mutual. That she wouldn't be left out in the cold. Y/n had had enough of that.

"Was there someone you wanted to go with?" She stared intently at Steve, who was seemingly avoiding her gaze.

His feet came to a halt and, for a moment, it felt like his heartbeat did the same. He looked to her in quiet fear, as if he had been caught. Y/n’s gaze softened as she inched closer to him.

Steve looked over her shoulder and hardened his expression, before raising his hand to point to their destination.

"There's the gas station."

Before Y/n could register his words, he walked past her. She frowned and felt her shoulders slump as she turned around and watched him walk away. She didn’t see his flushed expression or heard the quiet curses he whispered to himself for wimping out yet again. All she saw was his back. All she felt was the searing pain of inexplicit rejection.

***

March, 1983

It was not her scene, hanging out with Tina, Carol, Oscar and Tommy on a random Saturday afternoon. On any other occasion, Y/n would have never even humoured the idea of accepting their invitation, but they weren't the ones who asked her if she wanted to come. Steve was.

The six of them walked out of the diner and gathered on the edge of the footpath. Carol was telling Y/n about the top she bought from the new store that opened up next to Melvald's, when Oscar elbowed Tommy and pointed to something across the street.

“Um… Y/n, is that your dad?”

Her eyes widened when she spotted her dad's truck parked outside the local bar, and him passed out in the driver's seat. She heard Tommy chuckle obnoxiously, before looking to Oscar and Steve to match his amusement.

“Ha! I want whatever Chief’s having."

Oscar laughed with him, but Steve was silent. He couldn't take his eyes off Y/n. Her eyes glossed over and her entire posture seemingly shrunk. Steve hated seeing her like that. Annoyed, he shook his head and shot Tommy a glare.

“C’mon dude, just shut the fuck up.”

Tommy cussed a defensive, ‘what the fuck, Steve?’, at him, but he had already turned away. He couldn’t care less about any offense Tommy took. Not when Y/n was on the verge of tears glancing back and forth between their friend group and her dad’s truck.

“You guys go ahead without me,” she whispered shortly, not wanting to turn the situation into a whole thing. She waved goodbye and walked in the opposite direction, feeling the smallest semblance of relief that she was alone, and a small semblance of sadness for the same reason.

She tried not to wonder the kinds of normal teenage Saturdays she might be able to have if her father weren't such a mess.

After passing a few stores, she glanced back briefly only to see Steve running after her, the rest of their group already long gone. Y/n knitted her brows together.

“Steve, what are you doing?”

He huffed when he finally reached her side and looked at her incredulously.

“I’m not leaving you alone,” Steve spoke softly.

“It’s fine, I’ll be ok,” Y/n shook her head and continued to walk. Much to her surprise, Steve continued to follow her. Something told her he was not going away easily.

“Y/n, you don’t have your license yet and your dad can’t drive, so how exactly are you gonna get home?”

“I’ll take the bus,” Y/n argued.

“No, let me take you,” he pleaded.

“Steve, I appreciate you wanting to stay with me, but I don’t need your charity,” she shouted.

He double backed. Y/n clenched her jaw instinctively as she maintained her ground and her stern expression. The sounds of the cars passing and nearby groups talking softened the silence, but not the tension. Steve’s gaze softened and he shook his head defetedly. Didn’t she realise?

“That's not what this is, Y/n."

What it was was something Steve had taken a great deal of time coming to terms with. That the girl he’d known for the better half of his life, who he’d only really started to talk to half a year ago, had quickly become the one person he couldn’t get out of his head.

Finally, Y/n let go of the breath she had held onto, feeling the tension in her shoulders release with it. Y/n had never been one to take risks, or to trust the word of another, but the way Steve gazed at her made her forget. As she continued to look back it, her narrow eyes studying his expression for even a trace of insincerity, Y/n had no rebuttal.

“... Ok,” she whispered, before turning to face the crossing.

Steve shuffled his feet until their shoulders just barely grazed one another, and, to his surprise, she let him. Once the road was clear, Y/n sped across to the other side of the street and paced up to the front of her dad's truck. When Steve caught up to her, she felt his gaze switch between her unconscious dad and her reaction to the sight of him. She huffed.

“He’s out cold.”

Steve's brows furrowed. There was a peculiar lack of urgency in Y/n tone. He studied her expression closely, left curious by the way she sprung into action. Like clockwork, Y/n approached the driver's door, carefully opening it and swiftly reaching towards the ignition.

Alarmed, Steve followed after her and spoke in a hush whisper, terrified of waking up the police chief.

“Y/n, what are you doing?”

“I’m getting the keys in case he wakes up and tries to drive himself home,” she explained curtly, quickly remembering why she made a point of being detached and stand-offish.

Explaining any aspect of her relationship with her dad to another person was always an uncomfortable conversation that left Y/n an anxious mess. It was the very reason she stopped going to her appointments with the school counsellor and why her friendships never went past the shallow end. At least, until Steve.

He tried to conceal how startled he was by Y/n's nonchalance, but couldn't keep himself from running his hand through his hair nervously and trying to wrap his head around it all.

“Wh- so, what are we gonna do with them?”

Y/n closed the door and paused for moment, contemplating whether she would tell him the truth or lash out at him.

“Take ‘em to the station and have Officer Robinson come and drive him home."

It wasn't pity or discomfort, but moreso concern.

“Y/n… does this happen often?”

A hot sensation bubbled in Steve's chest the more he pieced things together. He knew Y/n had a lot more going on in her life than she let on, but he was swiftly realising it went a lot further than merely having to work part time to help her dad cover the bills.

Y/n could see his expression harden and felt defensive.

“March is a rough month for him,” she mumbled quietly, feeling pathetic for once again making excuses for her dad.

Before Steve could question her further, she started heading towards the police station that was, thankfully, but a block away. He held the front door open for her once they got there, and Y/n donned a smile as she approached the woman sitting at the front desk.

She leaned against the counter until the lady stopped writing and looked up from her paperwork. Steve stood nervously behind Y/n, at. first puzzled by how at-home she was at the station before reminding himself who her dad was.

“Y/n! Honey, what can I do you for?”

She placed the keys down and the woman offered an apologetic smile. Flo had become much too familiar with the routine.

“Can you please tell Robinson he’s outside the bar again?" Y/n requested.

“Ok, sweetie," Flo nodded before taking the keys from the counter and standing up.

Before she turned around to go find officer Robinson, Y/n's eyes lit up at the half-empty box of donuts on the other end of the counter.

"Ooh, are those extras?"

Flo did a double take before looking back to the donuts she had forgotten about and chuckling quietly.

"Yeah, you kids help yourselves."

Y/n opened the box and reached straight for her favourite one and splitting it in two. Steve stifled his amused grin from watching the infamous Y/n Hopper rip into a box of baked goods with the excitement of a little kid. She held out one of the halves for him and he gulped.

"Here, Steve, you have to try the custard-filled one."

He cautiously took it from her with quipped brows. He hated custard but really really liked her, and didn't know how to say no.

"It's that good?"

"The best in the state, trust me," Y/n proclaimed, as she took a bite into it. She closed her eyes and shook her head in a way that left Steve even more smitten than he was before. "Mmm... forget that, the best in the country."

He didn't realise he was staring until she went to take another bite but stopped and smiled expectedly at him and his uneaten half. Steve braced himself and took a bite of the worst donut he had ever eaten, trying not to cough from the dry dough and the lumpy custard.

Steve looked to Y/n and her unfaltering smile, and quickly found the motivation to stomach the abomination. He forced a smile and nodded.

"So good," he raved.

"Right?"

She grinned and took another bite, inching closer to him until their shoulders touched. When she looked back to Flo returning to her seat, Steve took it as the opportunity to grimace as he scuffed the rest of the donut.

Instinctively, his hand rose to the counter and he began drumming his fingers against the surface noisily as he tried his best not to gag. Flo glanced up the two and squeezed her eyes shut momentarily.

“Y/n, honey, please tell your boyfriend not to tap on the counter, you know how that gives me a migraine.”

Steve's eyes darted to Y/n just as she almost choked on her donut. She laughed nervously before clearing her throat and dusting off the powdered sugar from her fingertips.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Y/n whispered sheepishly.

Flo smirked and looked up at the teenagers once more, unfazed by Y/n's clenched jaw and mortified expression. She was not kidding, Flo thought. That Steve character had a remarkable head of hair. The woman glanced back to Y/n and narrowed her eyes playfully.

“Not yet."

Y/n's eyes grew twice in size as her entire face rose in temperature. Steve looked down at his feet and grinned. Before the woman could embarrass Y/n any further, she turned around and grabbed Steve's arm before pulling him towards the exit.

“Goodbye, Flo," she deadpanned.

Y/n swore that was the last time she would ever humoured Flo when she makes inquiries about her love life.

***

November, 1983

Steve stopped outside his camaro before turning back to face Y/n. He hated how disappointed she looked and, even moreso, the fact that there was little he could do to change it.

“I’m sorry about him,” Y/n whispered, kicking herself for ever expecting her dad to be anything but the difficult and brooding grump he had been for the last 5 years.

“It’s alright,” Steve murmured. He reached for her waist and gently pulled her closer until there was little to no space between them. “Hey, look at me. I’m ok.... We’re ok. This was just one dinner.” 

She smiled weakly, but Steve knew his words made no difference. It was more than just one dinner, it was Hopper's first impression of him as his daughter's boyfriend. Steve shrugged, wanting nothing more than to lighten the mood and put a smile on his girl's face.

“I’ll win him over eventually,” he said, like a promise.

Steve leaned in and kissed Y/n softly. Before pulling away, he pressed their temples against one another and smiled goofily at her until she smiled back. Y/n waved goodbye and waited until he left the driveway before going back into her home.

She closed the door behind her and glared at the back of her dad's head. He had already began washing up the dishes. He was even whistling as he did so, as if he hadn't just finished spewing a plethora of insults at his daughter's boyfriend. Y/n crossed her arms.

"What was that?"

Hopper stopped and turned the faucet off, before sighing as he shook his hands dry and turned around to face his daughter. He shrugged nonchalantly.

"What was what?"

Y/n scoffed and looked away momentarily. It was moments like these that her father made it so unbearable to be around. She shook her head, refusing to back down. Hurting her was one thing, hurting him was another.

“Steve’s a great guy," she defended. "- and he didn’t deserve to have to sit through two hours of you interrogating him and painting him out to be an idiot.”

Hopper walked past the kitchen counter and turned to his bedroom door, resorting to his infamous tactic when it came to disagreements with his daughter.

“I wasn’t painting him out to be anything,” he denied as he stalked towards his room. Y/n sped after him and stood in his way, not letting him avoid their conversation as easily as he had become accustomed to.

“What don’t you like about him?”

Y/n narrowed her eyes and waited. If he was going to into her boyfriend, he should at least have the decency to tell her why. Y/n suspected it was a stupid reason, but she wanted him to tell it to her straight.

Hopper sighed and shook his head, unable to answer her. His daughter scoffed laughed incredulously. Of course, she told herself.

“You know, this is exactly why I didn’t wanna bring him home to meet you, because I knew you were gonna be like this,” Y/n shouted angrily. Was it really so hard to be a decent person to a boy who meant a great deal to her? She swore he got a kick out of making her life harder every step of the way.

Hopper furrowed his brows.

“Then why did you bring him here?”

“Because it was Steve’s idea!" Y/n yelled, oblivious to the way Hopper's expression faltered for the briefest moment.

She stepped back and shook her head, regretting ever letting Steve talk her into bringing him home for dinner. Y/n turned back to her dad, frustrated by the way he continued to stand there silently.

"You know, he's the one who wanted to do this stupid dinner. I would’ve been happy to keep you two separated for the rest of my life.”

Hopper raised his brows questioningly.

“You really think he’ll stick around that long?”

Y/n's face fell. She double-backed and scoffed, looking away momentarily to blink away the tears that began forming. Hopper realised too late he had gone too far.

“What the hell is does that mean? You think he’s gonna get sick of me at some point and leave?”

She tried to maintain her glare, but the growing lump in her throat made it impossible to steady her trembling voice. Her father had never insinuated anything so cruel.

“That’s not what I said, Y/n,” Hopper defended quietly.

“But that’s what you meant, isn’t it?”

Y/n turned her back to him and headed towards her bedroom door, not knowing how much more of the conversation she could bear. Hopper trailed after, struggling to find the words to explain why

“Look, guys like Steve? They don’t know a good thing when they have it. Sooner or later he’s just gonna end up hurting you.”

Y/n whipped her head around and narrowed her eyes. Did he even hear the irony in his accusation? It was far too late for him to try and offer her any kind of fatherly advice, she was not going to have any of it.

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see then," she hissed, before slamming her door shut.

***

June, 1985

Y/n peeked through the five inch gap and cursed beneath her breath when she saw her father sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. She hoped she would be able to avoid his interrogation, but it appeared she had no other other option.

Gripping onto her duffle bag, Y/n walked out of her bedroom and made it halfway past the living room sofa when Hopper looked up. A brief honk from the vehicle outside sounded through the cabin.

"You're going to Steve's house?"

"No, I'm going to Nancy's. I already told you this," Y/n sighed, heading towards the kitchen counter to grab her wallet and her covergirl lip gloss.

Hopper put his newspaper down and rose from his chair. Y/n turned and huffed, realising he had finally had enough of her beating around the bush.

"Steve hasn't been around in a while," he stated cautiously, knowing outright asking her would only escalate things.

"Great observation, dad."

Hopper sighed defeatedly. He knew she had more than enough reason not to want to tell him things, but they could not keep doing this. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stepped forward. Her back was still turned to him, but he was not going to wait any longer.

"Did something happen between you two?"

Y/n turned around and the typical angry glare Hopper had braced himself for was nowhere in sight. Instead he was met with a pair of

“Oh my god," she cried, her bottom lip trembling. "Will you just fucking drop it, please?”

“What’s going on, bug?”

“We broke up.” Y/n sniffled. Hopper had expected as much, but couldn't say he wasn't disappointed that was what happened. “He cheated on me and so we broke up. That’s why he’s stopped coming around and why I hang up on him when he calls.”

She could just imagine the look on his face, to the point where she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye. After all, Hopper was the one who warned her something like this would happen and Y/n was the one convinced it would never.

“If you’re gonna say I told you so, can you make it quick because I really don’t-“

Before she could force herself to look up, her dad had closed the gap between them and braced his arms around her. Y/n had barely enough time to register what was happening before Hopper pulled away, leaving his hands on her shoulders.

“I won’t bring it up again,” he promised, which was exactly what Y/n wanted. “Are you… Are you gonna be ok?”

“Yeah, I’ll be ok," Y/n replied quietly, startled by how well he was reacting. "Nancy’s been helping me through it, that’s why I’m going over to her house tonight.”

“Ok, well, um… here."

Hopper reached for his jacket he left sprawled on the couch and rummaged through the pockets. He pulled out his wallet and took out a crinkled $10 bill before holding it out to Y/n. She stared at him, puzzled.

“What are you doing, dad?”

“Get yourself that ice cream you like, on me," he smiled.

Y/n sighed and accepted it. She had played out this conversation in her head countless times, but never imagined this. Hopper watched as she shoved the bill into her bag and went to say something.

Y/n stopped and cleared her throat. No, she told herself. She was not going to thank him. She gave him a small smile and shot a quick glance towards the door. Nancy was still waiting for her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, dad," she murmured, before leaving.

Once she closed the door behind her, Hopper let out a sigh of relief. Finally, he thought to himself. Finally he did something right.

***

April, 1986

Y/n had taken Steve's BMW to deliver the last of their donations, while he stayed back to finish getting the cabin in order. The aftermath of the battle against Vecna meant that the cabin would become home-base for any planning and meetings to be held on what they were going to do next.

He was in Y/n's room when he heard a vehicle pull up outside and heard the footsteps of everyone else in the cabin race for the door. Thinking little of it, Steve took his time coming outside. When he walked out onto the front porch, a figure emerged from the behind the door.

“Steve Harrington.”

He turned and felt his jaw drop when he realised who it was.

“Hopper, oh my god-“

Before he could finish, the older man engulfed him in a hug, patting his back roughly. Steve stood frozen, too shocked to even move his arms.

“Thank you," Hopper whispered, choking up as he pulled away.

“F-For what?”

Steve furrowed his brows, confused. First he was coming back from the dead, now he was thanking him when he had no idea what he had done. Hopper chuckled and shook his head before tensing his brows and sniffling.

Joyce had filled him in of the first 6 months he had missed and and overexcited Dustin filled him in on the last 2. Hopper had nothing but gratitude for the Harrington kid. He cleared his throat and then explained his reasoning, one that was plain and simple.

“For keeping her safe.”

***

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