#& now i get to pay my parents back for all their sacrifices & love

[goldengalore]

Scandal

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry faces the biggest scandal of his career when a popular influencer claims that the singer forcefully entered his home and attacked him. Y/N sets on a mission to clear Harry’s name.

Word count: 11.4k

Warnings: anxiety, physical violence, mentions of domestic violence, nonconsensual kiss, cheating, toxic masculinity, angst, smut (a bit of domrry and subrry)

A/N: Lots of protective!harry in this one. Pay attention to the warnings. Characters make some serious (false) accusations towards H. If anything makes you uncomfortable, click away! Otherwise, enjoy this angsty fic :)

***

Y/N doesn’t like parties.

Even when she was a little girl and her parents would invite all their extended family over to celebrate her birthday, her tiny self would cry and complain until one of her parents scolded her to shut her up. As she grew older, she developed methods of alleviating the discomfort brought on by social events—the main one involving alcohol.

Calling her an alcoholic would be inaccurate because the only time she ever really drinks is during social situations. In fact, she can go for weeks and months without drinking if she doesn’t have to attend a social event. Still, she knows it’s not healthy nor very effective. All it does is reinforce her belief that she can’t socialize without using alcohol as a crutch, worsening her anxiety in the long run.

Recently, she has decided to start overcoming this habit by completely avoiding alcohol before and during social situations. At first, she wanted to limit herself to one drink, but she knows that the suppressing effect on her overactive nervous system will be enough to lure her into having another, then another… then another.

Tonight is her first chance to put her new rule into practice. It’s her best friend Rosie’s birthday. Her fiance, Colin, threw her a surprise party at his house. Now, Y/N may despise parties, especially the big, extravagant ones that Colin likes to throw, but she is willing to sacrifice a part of her sanity for the people she loves, like Rosie.

Because they’re in LA and Colin is an influencer, most of the people he invited are also influencers of some sort. Y/N warned Harry about this, but he still chose to come along, much to her relief. Surprisingly, aside from a few people asking for a picture with him, he has managed to keep a low profile. He also knows about Y/N’s new rule for herself and has agreed to help her abide by it, even going as far as not drinking himself, though she told him that wasn’t necessary.

Now, while they’re conversing with a small group of people—or at least Harry converses while Y/N mostly just listens and nods and tries not to think about how badly she wants to go home—someone offers Harry a drink and she notices him hesitate for the briefest second before saying no.

“H, you can have a drink,” she tells him in his ear a minute later. “Seriously, I don’t mind. I promise you’ll still be the best boyfriend in the world by the end of the night.”

He smirks. “I’m going to need that on a mug or a t-shirt or something, you know, just so I don’t forget.”

“Fine, you’re getting that for Christmas this year, but that’s all you’re getting.”

He places a hand on his chest. “I would gladly accept that as my only gift.”

She rolls her eyes at his dramatics, smiling all the while.

“All right, I’ll grab a drink then, if you insist,” he says.

“Good. I’m going to use the washroom. Meet you back here in five?”

“Deal.”

They both go their separate ways—Harry to the bar and Y/N to the washroom. When she finds it, she opens the door and instantly regrets not knocking first. Next to the toilet is a girl kneeling on the floor with a guy’s dick in her mouth. And not just any girl, but a well-known Instagram model whose face Y/N has seen many times before.

“Shit, sorry! Sorry!” Y/N blurts out, quickly pulling the door shut. It’s only after the door closes that her brain registers who the guy was. He had his back to her, but the dirty blonde hair messily styled around his head gave him away.

It was Colin. Rosie’s Colin.

At first, she stays frozen in place, too shocked to move, but then she sees the doorknob twisting from the other side and suddenly snaps out of it. Her legs start taking her away from the washroom.

“Y/N!” she hears Colin shout from behind her.

She walks faster, pushing through the crowds of people, with no plan for where she’s headed. Eventually, she ends up out in the backyard by Colin’s pool, thinking she must have lost him somewhere in the crowd. But then the glass door slides opens and out comes Colin. He closes the door before walking over to her. The light from the pool reflects off his pale face. His blue eyes are wide and frantic.

“Look,” he starts, “what you saw back there, it wasn’t— We weren’t— It wasn’t—” He pauses before starting again, “She’s just a friend.”

She scoffs at his lame defense. “Do all your friends give you blowjobs?”

“She wasn’t giving me a blowjob.”

“Oh, so your dick just fell into her mouth by accident, is that it? How stupid do you think I am, Colin?”

In the time she has known him—which hasn’t been for very long, since he and Rosie only started dating eight months ago and got engaged three months into their relationship—she always got the impression that he views her as a naive little girl. People often make assumptions about Y/N based on her quiet, reserved nature, like that she is uptight or that she knows nothing about sex or the world. It never fails to annoy her.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” he says slowly, patronizingly, which only contradicts his statement. “You just… You think you saw something you didn’t see.”

Her eyes narrow. “That sentence doesn’t even make sense.”

She can see him struggling to find more ways to gaslight her. When he realizes he can’t, he just says, “You can’t tell Rosie.”

She doesn’t reply, doesn’t feel the need to. And Colin clearly doesn’t like that. He begins walking towards her, eyes darkening dangerously. She takes a few steps backward, thinking he’ll stop, but he doesn’t, not until she’s right at the edge of the pool with no more room to move back. He looms over her, all six feet of him.

“Did you hear me, Y/N?” he asks, his icy gaze boring into her.

She’s not sure where her boldness comes from in that moment, but all she says in response is, “Fuck you.”

Suddenly, he grips the back of her neck with both hands and smashes his lips against hers forcefully, shoving his tongue into her mouth. Y/N recoils so hard that she would have fallen back into the water if his hand wasn’t gripping her neck so tightly, holding her against him. She lifts her right foot off the ground and swings her leg back before driving the toe of her boot into his shin as hard as possible.

He grunts in pain and releases her, shouting, “Stupid bitch!”

She sidesteps him so that she’s no longer balancing on the edge of the pool and vigorously rubs her mouth with the back of her hand.

Clutching his shin, he pins her with a menacing glare. “You’re not going to say a word to Rosie,” he says between gritted teeth. Then he places his foot on the ground and limps back into the house.

Y/N doesn’t notice she’s shaking until he’s gone. She stays outside a little while longer to gather herself and suppress the nauseating feeling induced by having Colin’s lips on hers. Then she heads back inside to find Harry.

He has a drink in his hand now, and he’s talking to a couple of regular, non-influencer-looking people. As he lifts up his arm, she snuggles into his side, wrapping her arm around his back, resolving to stay there for the remainder of the night.

She will tell him what happened. Just not now. Not with Colin watching her from across the room with Rosie under his own arm, as if he didn’t just cheat on the poor girl and then proceed to kiss her best friend.

She will also tell Rosie what happened. Colin can try to intimidate her into silence, but it won’t work. Rosie will find out. Y/N will make sure of it. She just won’t unleash the devastating news on Rosie’s birthday with all these influencers surrounding them, eagerly awaiting some drama to go down so they can use it as “content.”

The party is nowhere close to done when Y/N and Harry decide to head home, but they’re both spent and ready to crawl into bed. They find Rosie to say their goodbyes, and Y/N tries to rush the process before Colin can show up.

“Happy birthday, girlie,” she says while giving Rosie a tight hug—tighter than usual after what she discovered tonight. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Thanks for everything.”

Unfortunately, right as the two friends are pulling out of their embrace, Colin appears at Rosie’s side.

“Colin told me that you helped plan this whole thing,” says Rosie.

“Yeah, Y/N was great. Couldn’t have pulled it off without her,” Colin tells her. Then he looks at Y/N. “Thanks for keeping it a secret from this one.” He points his thumb at Rosie, laughing easily, but the threat behind his eyes as he stares at Y/N is unmistakable.

She just gives him a tight smile, resisting the urge to slap the cocky grin right off his face. Then she says to Harry, “Let’s go.”

“Thanks for having u—” Harry begins to say to Colin and Rosie, but Y/N grabs his arm and starts dragging him away before he can finish his polite farewell.

Once they’re outside, she lets go of his arm and he gives her a puzzled look.

“What was that about?” he asks as they walk to his car.

“What?”

“Seemed like you couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there.”

“Oh, you know how I feel about parties.” She leaves it at that for now, and luckily, he doesn’t press any further.

He’s had a couple drinks, so Y/N drives them home. As soon as they enter Harry’s warm, empty house, she says, “H, I need to tell you something.”

“Hold that thought, lovie.” He holds up his index finger. “I really need a wee.”

He dashes off to the bathroom by the stairs. Meanwhile, Y/N heads to the living room and flops down on the couch, feeling exhaustion take over her after what transpired tonight. Just as she’s thinking about how she’s going to explain everything to Harry and how he’ll react, she hears the bathroom door open.

Harry joins her on the couch and says, “Right, what did you need to tell me?”

She takes a deep breath. “Something happened at the party tonight.”

“Okay…” He swipes his hair back, gazing at her intently.

“I caught Colin cheating on Rosie with another girl.”

He raises his brows, his expression growing serious.

“After I saw it happen, I walked away and Colin followed me out to the backyard. He tried denying it, but I obviously wasn’t falling for it, so then he said I can’t tell Rosie and he…” She pauses, hesitates. The memory of the repulsive kiss makes her stomach turn again. “He grabbed me by the neck and kissed me—”

“He what?” Harry’s brows climb even higher.

“—and I kicked him in the shin and then he left. I honestly think the kiss was just him trying to make me feel small and intimidate me into not telling Rosie.”

Harry’s usual easygoing demeanour has completely evaporated. His hands curl into fists on his thighs. His jaw clenches and unclenches, as his hard gaze fixates on the coffee table in front of them.

“That piece of shit,” he mutters. “That fucking piece of shit.” He closes his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Y/N, I’m going to—”

“H,” she says, placing her small hand over one of his fists, “I know you’re pissed off right now, but I need you to help me figure something out here.”

He looks at her, eyes softening. His fist opens and turns to grasp her hand. “Of course, whatever you need.”

“I need to tell Rosie what happened. I’m going to do it tomorrow. I’m going to tell her what I saw in the bathroom, but I just don’t know if I should mention the part about him kissing me. She’ll already be devastated to hear that he cheated, and I feel like I’d be adding unnecessary pain by mentioning that. What would you do if you were me?”

“I would tell her everything,” he replies. “Every detail. She deserves to know exactly how much of a prick he is.”

That’s exactly what she expected him to say. Nodding, she says, “Okay. Thank you.”

His anger seems to return after that. He rubs his free hand over his jaw, shaking his head. “It’s awful, what he did to you. And Rosie. Neither of you deserve that.”

She feels so fortunate to have him in that moment. If he wasn’t at the party tonight, she’s not sure what she would have done. Surely, she would have managed one way or another, but knowing that Harry was in the house, even when Colin was cornering her out by the pool, gave her a boost of courage—something she only realized later when she found her way back to him.

Now, she scoots closer to him and wraps her arms around his torso, squeezing him tightly. He squeezes her back.

“Can we go to bed? I’m exhausted,” she tells him.

“Yeah, absolutely.”

***

The following day, when Y/N informs Rosie of Colin’s infidelity, she breaks down into tears before Y/N has even finished explaining what she saw in the bathroom. Her best friend seems so distraught, sobbing and barely forming coherent sentences, that she decides not to follow Harry’s advice about mentioning the kiss.

Before Colin came along, Rosie was always an intelligent, rational human being, the type to think long and hard before making any major decisions. When he appeared in her life, it was like she lost all sense of logic and reason within a matter of weeks of knowing him. Things moved so rapidly between the couple. Y/N thought Rosie was joking when, three months into their relationship, she revealed that Colin had proposed to her and that she had said yes.

Y/N could never understand the hold that this guy had on her friend, but for the most part, it seemed harmless. Until now. Watching someone she cares so deeply about fall apart right before her eyes drives a sword through her heart.

She offers to spend the day with Rosie at her apartment, suggesting that they binge-watch some trashy reality show while munching on their favourite comfort foods, but Rosie says she needs some time alone to process everything. Respecting her wishes, Y/N reminds her that she can call anytime she needs to talk, then heads home.

That night, she’s sitting in bed with Harry, both of them immersed in their own books—him, a romance novel and her, a mystery novel—when her phone buzzes with an incoming call from Rosie.

“Hey, Ros—”

“What the fuck, Y/N?”

Rosie’s hostile greeting makes her pull the phone away from her ear for a second.

“You lied to me.”

“I— What?” Y/N’s uneasy tone draws Harry’s attention away from his novel.

“Colin told me you kissed him.”

Her heart sinks to the pit of her stomach. Immediate regret settles in at not telling Rosie about the kiss. She played right into Colin’s hands. “That’s not what happened, Rosie.”

“Oh, really?” She hears Rosie let out an unamused laugh. Then she hears his voice in the background, whispering something to Rosie. Y/N’s hand digs into the bedsheets, scrunching them between her fingers. Harry reaches for her hand and pulls it into his lap.

“He kissed me,” she states. “He’s just telling you it was the other way around to cover his ass after cheating on you.”

“He never denied cheating on me. He admitted to it.”

Y/N is genuinely taken aback by this, unsure how to respond.

“He said you walked in on him in the bathroom and then you walked away. When he found you later and tried to explain himself, you came onto him and told him that if he fucked you, you wouldn’t tell me that he cheated.”

She scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. “And you believe that? C’mon, Ro, you are so much smarter than this.”

Once again, her ears pick up on Colin mumbling something to Rosie.

“What lies is he feeding you now?” she asks.

“He thinks we should talk in person,” says Rosie. “All three of us. I agree. I’m at his place right now. Come over and let’s hash this out.”

She closes her eyes. “Rosie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What are you so scared of, Y/N?” Colin says into the speaker now, all loud and smug and condescending.

She feels Harry’s hand squeeze hers now.

“I’m giving you a chance to explain your side of the story,” says Colin. “And maybe even apologize.”

She huffs, “Apologize?”

“For trying to get between me and Rosie. She forgave me. Maybe she’ll forgive you too. But that won’t happen if you don’t come here and talk to us.”

Y/N’s blood is boiling. How could Rosie forgive him? It makes no sense. Yet again, she finds herself baffled by Colin’s hypnotic spell on her best friend. Except this time, she is also concerned for Rosie’s safety. Because if he could persuade her to forgive him for cheating, God knows what else he can make her do with the right amount of manipulation and coercion.

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll come.”

“Good girl, Y/N,” says Colin.

She almost hurls. And she knows Harry heard that too from the way his hand tightens around hers. She hangs up.

Before she can say anything, Harry states, “I’m coming with you.”

“I don’t know if—”

“It’s not up for discussion, Y/N. I already know I can’t convince you to not go, so I’m going with you. That’s it.”

“Fine.” She’s too tired to argue, and if she’s honest with herself, she’s relieved that he’s coming. Colin is bigger than her and has proven that he has no respect for her boundaries. If she has to swallow her pride and admit that she needs her boyfriend there to protect her just in case, then so be it.

Harry softens when he realizes how overbearing his words sounded. “I won’t do anything, I swear,” he reassures her. “I’m just going to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

She nods. “Okay.”

On the drive to Colin’s house, Y/N gives Harry a rundown of the fabricated story that Colin has planted in Rosie’s head. She also mentions that she no longer feels safe leaving Rosie with Colin.

The house looks desolate tonight, a stark contrast to the previous night when it was filled to the brim with people and music and drugs and alcohol.

Rosie is the one who opens the door for them. Her puffy, bloodshot eyes convey that she hasn’t stopped crying today. Her dark brown hair falls in messy waves around her shoulders. She seems surprised to see Harry, but amidst the surprise, Y/N detects a hint of relief as well. The same relief that Y/N felt when Harry said he was coming with her.

Rosie leads them into the kitchen where Colin is slouched in a chair at the end of the dining table, his hand wrapped around an open bottle of whiskey on the table. A sickening smirk begins to form on his face when he sees Y/N, but it falters when his gaze falls on Harry.

“Why’s he here?” he says, turning his chin up at Harry.

“It’s fine. He can stay,” says Rosie. She sits on a chair that’s already pulled out from under the table, angled towards Colin.

Y/N grabs another chair and drags it far away from the table to maintain a fair distance from Colin. Meanwhile, Harry just leans against a wall off to the side, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. He’s dressed in a blue Adidas jacket and black gym shorts that he threw on before coming here. A hair clip keeps his curls up and away from his face.

“Harry, you wanna sit?” asks Rosie.

“I’m good, thanks.”

The group stares at each other. Y/N at Rosie. Colin at Y/N. Harry at Colin.

After a prolonged silence, Rosie finally says, “Okay, who wants to start?”

“Y/N can start,” Colin answers immediately.

There’s no doubt in her mind that this is merely a tactic to convince Rosie that he has nothing to hide and that Y/N is the one who should be explaining herself.

She clears her throat and shifts in her seat, trying not to let Colin’s annoyingly persistent gaze get to her. “Okay… Well, Rosie, like I said on the phone, I never kissed Colin. He kissed me and I pushed him away and he—”

“Why didn’t you mention any of this earlier?” Rosie interjects. “When you were at my apartment this morning and you told me that he cheated, why didn’t you mention the kiss?”

“You were so upset. I didn’t want to make it worse. I should’ve told you and I regret that I didn’t, but honestly, I just didn’t want to hurt you even more.”

“How am I supposed to believe anything you say now?”

Y/N frowns at her. “Because we’re best friends? And we have been for years? Way longer than you’ve known him.” She glances at Colin.

“He told me the truth. The whole truth. Something I would’ve expected my so-called best friend to do.”

Y/N just sighs and leans back in her chair, silent now as her mind grasps for some way, any way to convince her friend that Colin is the liar here.

Rosie turns to Harry now. “Did you know about this?”

He nods. “Y/N told me everything when we got home last night.” He pauses before adding sincerely, “She’s telling the truth, Rosie.”

“You weren’t even there when it happened. How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know her. And you know her. And we both know she’s not like that. You can call me biased, but it’s very clear to me which of these stories is the more plausible one.”

Y/N notices a subtle shift in Rosie’s expression, as if Harry’s words have actually made her see things from a different perspective. While she’s glad that at least Harry can get through to her friend, the fact that Rosie is quicker to trust Colin or Harry over her is maddening. She and Rosie have had several conversations over the years about people not believing women unless a man backs them up. It’s rather hypocritical of her to be doing the very thing she claims to be against.

Colin, who was previously slumped in his chair with a look of indifference, sits up when he realizes that he might be losing Rosie.

“What are you even doing here, man?” he asks Harry. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“I disagree.” Harry’s relaxed disposition seems to irk Colin even more. “Oh, and you should know,” continues Harry, “that neither of these women feel safe being alone around you, which says a lot about the piece of shit you are.”

“I never said I don’t feel safe around him,” Rosie argues unconvincingly.

“You don’t need to. It’s pretty obvious. And Y/N said—”

“You should really stop believing everything your whore of a girlfriend tells you,” Colin interjects.

A tense moment of silence hangs in the air before Harry pushes himself off the wall and strides over to Colin.

“Harry,” says Y/N in a warning tone, her heart speeding up as she watches Colin rise to his feet. The two men are face-to-face with only a few inches of space between them. Colin is as tall as Harry but with considerably less muscle on his body. However, that doesn’t eliminate Y/N’s concerns about her boyfriend getting hurt. “Harry,” she says again, pleadingly this time.

“Don’t worry, love. I’m not going to do anything,” he tells her, still sounding calm as ever. The only indication that Colin’s words have gotten to him is in his fists, which are clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles have lost colour.

“Yeah, he’s not,” says Colin, the smugness returning. “He doesn’t want to ruin his nice guy image. Isn’t that right, Styles?”

Harry lets out a brief, unamused laugh through his nose, then steps back, turning around to go back over to the wall. As he’s walking away, Colin says, “You know, now that I think about it, I should’ve just fucked your girlfriend when I had the chance. Show her what it’s like to be fucked by a real man.”

Now that Harry is turned away from Colin, Y/N can see his entire facial expression, including the rage that swims beneath the tranquil surface. His chest rises and falls with deep, controlled breaths. His eyes find Y/N’s.

“We’re leaving,” he states firmly. “Now.”

“What are you so scared of, Styles?” Colin goads him, the same way he did to Y/N over the phone. “Worried you’re gonna end up in the news for socking me? ‘Mr. Treat People With Kindness loses it on innocent civilian.’” He cackles at his own dumb joke.

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose, his patience visibly diminishing.

Y/N stands and turns to Rosie. “You’re coming with us.”

“What? No, I’m not.”

Losing her composure, Y/N presses her hands against the sides of her head, which is pounding at this point. “Oh my God, Rosie! What kind of hold does this guy have on you?!”

“I just want to talk to him.” She rises to her feet too.

“Why? So he can tell you more lies and manipulate you—”

“Oh, don’t act so fucking righteous, Y/N! Let’s not forget that you lied too!”

“I was trying to protect you! I’m not going to apologize for—”

“Colin, stop!” Rosie’s attention has shifted to the guys, who are now going at each other. Or at least, Colin is going at Harry with his fists, but Harry blocks each and every blow either with his arms or by ducking out of the way completely.

“C’mon, hit me!” Colin shouts desperately, swinging and missing, then swinging and missing again. “Don’t be a fucking pussy! Hit me! What are you waiting for?!”

At the next swing, Harry grabs Colin’s arm and twists it behind his back, spinning him around, then kicking the backs of his knees to make them buckle. Colin collapses face-first onto the hardwood floor. Harry falls on top of him, still twisting Colin’s arm behind his back at a painful angle while pressing his head down into the floor with his other hand.

Colin cries out in agony, struggling underneath Harry’s weight. “Get off me, asshole!”

“Are you gonna stop?” asks Harry.

“You’re breaking my fucking arm!”

“Are you gonna stop?”

“Get off—”

“Are you gonna stop?”

Colin, finally realizing that he’s no match for the man holding him down, surrenders. “Yes! Yes! Fucking yes!”

But Harry doesn’t let go immediately. Instead, he leans down to Colin’s ear and says in a low, chilling tone, “Good boy, Colin.” Then he lets go.

He stands up, fixes his jacket around his torso, and turns around to face the women as if nothing just happened. “Y/N and I are leaving,” he tells Rosie. “You can come with us if you want. It’s your call.”

“I’m staying,” she replies, wincing a bit as she stares at Colin writhing on the floor.

“Okay.” Harry walks over to Y/N, grabs her hand, and starts pulling her towards the door, much like how she dragged him out of the party last night but with more urgency.

“I think he broke my arm,” they hear Colin whine pitifully as they leave.

Harry doesn’t release Y/N’s hand until they reach the car. Once they’re seated inside, she instantly starts assessing his appearance to check if he’s hurt anywhere, but he seems entirely unscathed. You wouldn’t even be able to tell that he’s just been in a fight.

“Are you okay?” she asks just to be sure.

“I’m fine,” he answers, securing his seatbelt before starting the car.

“That got way out of hand.”

“I wish you’d just left with me when I said so,” he mutters, eyes focused on the road ahead.

“Harry, I didn’t want to leave her with him. I still feel awful about leaving her there.”

He takes a right, exiting Colin’s street. “What else were we meant to do, Y/N? Drag her out against her will? You think she’d still talk to you after that?” He scoffs.

His unusual harshness is making her feel even worse about a situation that is already difficult to grapple with. “No, of course not,” she says, a lump forming in her throat. “I understand why we had to leave her. I’m just saying that it fucking sucks, okay? The whole thing fucking sucks and I hate that my best friend is in the middle of it all and I can’t do anything to help her. I’m probably going to lose the only real friend I’ve made in my adult life all because of some fucking douchebag and I hate it, I hate him, I—I—” She breaks down then, her face falling into her hands as she sobs.

Anger is a strange emotion. When it’s there in full force, consuming you from head to toe, it leaves little room for anything else—anxiety, grief, and despair included. Then once it disappears, all those other emotions come hurtling in from all sides, crushing you beneath their weight.

Harry pulls over to the side of the road. “Y/N.” He turns to face her and carefully pries her hands away from her face.

She tilts her head back against the headrest, squeezing her eyes shut, tears falling unhindered.

“Hey, I get it,” he speaks gently. “I know it’s a shitty situation. I know you want to protect her, the same way I want to protect you, but you can’t save someone who’s constantly refusing your help. It’s not your fault, my love. You’ve done everything you can.” He holds both of her hands in one of his while using the other to wipe her cheeks. “I’m sorry for being harsh with you. I just hate the idea of you getting hurt. I’m sorry.” He kisses her hands several times.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, opening her eyes to look at him. She grabs a wad of tissues from the box on the dash and clears her throat before saying, “Thank you for being there tonight and handling everything so well… And not killing Colin, even though I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”

“Trust me, I wanted to. The prick needs someone to teach him a lesson. Unfortunately, that can’t be me.”

“I don’t know. I think you taught him pretty well that he’s not as man as he thinks he is.”

He smirks, and it’s the first sign of any pride he feels about overpowering Colin. He looks back at the road and says, “Let’s go home.”

***

It’s been a couple days since the incident at Colin’s house. Y/N hasn’t heard from Rosie again, nor does she expect to. Now, it’s the middle of the afternoon and she’s working on a new commissioned drawing when she receives a call from Jeff.

“Hey, Y/N, I’ve been trying to reach Harry all day,” he says when she picks up. “Is he with you?”

The urgency in Jeff’s voice makes her stop what she’s doing. “Uh, no, he’s out golfing with some friends. Why? Is everything okay?”

“Have you been online at all today?” She barely has a chance to answer before he says, “Sorry, dumb question. Of course you haven’t. That’s why you’re so calm. Anyway, there’s this guy, some TikToker, making some serious allegations against Harry. His name is Colin Rogers. Does that ring a bell?”

She sighs and closes her eyes. “Yeah. That’s Rosie’s fiance. What’s he saying about Harry?”

“To give you the CliffsNotes version, he’s saying that you cheated on Harry with him a few nights ago, and when Harry found out, he forced his way into Colin’s house and beat him badly enough to cause bruises and bleeding that landed him in the hospital.”

“Oh my God.”

“Like I said, that’s the CliffsNotes version. I skipped out a lot of details. It’s… bad. And he has a witness corroborating his statements.”

She frowns. “What witness?”

“Your friend Rosie.”

Y/N facepalms and groans in frustration.

“Now, we know all of this is bullshit, right?”

“Yeah, that’s not what happened,” she confirms.

“Which explains why he didn’t say a word to the police and went straight to his little Internet followers. Now it’s all anyone is talking about.”

“Are people believing it?”

“Some are. Some aren’t. That’s usually how it goes.” He sounds tired. “Look, I need to run, but I’ll send you an article detailing everything Colin said. I hate to give these tabloids any clicks, but this article is pretty thorough. Please tell H to call me when you hear from him.”

“Will do.”

Jeff sends her the article a few seconds later. She takes a deep breath before opening the link, a sick feeling settling in her stomach.

The clickbait headline reads: Harry Styles’ first big SCANDAL! Read more to find out how the “As It Was” singer ASSAULTED TikTok influencer Colin Rogers in his home.

As Y/N scrolls through the article, she finds that Jeff was right. It’s bad. Very bad. There are clips from Colin’s TikTok where he describes in exaggerated detail his manufactured version of events from that night. In the clips, you can clearly see dark purple bruises on either side of his head and around his eyes as well as his neck. His lip is badly cut, the surrounding region swollen and puffy. Even his nose is bent at an odd shape, signalling a possible fracture.

Y/N recalls how desperately Colin was trying to provoke Harry that night, saying degrading things about her to get under his skin. He even alluded to Harry ending up in the news for hitting him. Colin may be an arrogant dickhead, but apparently he’s not stupid. He was planning this out in his head even then—how he would use that situation to publicly smear Harry’s reputation along with Y/N’s.

As another one of Colin’s TikToks plays, she sees him hold up a small object. Harry’s lion ring. Colin says he found it after Harry left his house, claiming that it must have fallen off during their altercation. But Y/N knows that’s a lie because Harry wasn’t even wearing any rings that night. He was, however, wearing rings the previous night at Rosie’s birthday party. It had to have slipped off his finger at the party without him knowing.

The ring is the only “proof” Colin has of Harry being at his house at one point. Other than that, he presents no solid evidence to back up his claims, but of course, anyone who has spent even a week on social media knows that it does not operate on facts and evidence. People’s insatiable hunger for drama trumps the truth in most online spaces.

Harry gets home from golfing a couple hours later, and Y/N sits him down to explain everything. By the end of it, he is befuddled and speechless. It takes a while for him to gather his thoughts, at which point he says he’s going to make some calls to Jeff, his publicist, and a few others on his team to get their input.

He disappears into the study for the next few hours, his deep voice occasionally carrying over to Y/N, who is working at the dining table. The sun has gone down. She contemplates getting started on dinner when Harry emerges from the study.

“Hi, baby,” she says.

He walks over to her and kisses the top of her head before taking a seat next to her. She notices the fatigue on his face.

“How did the calls go?”

“We’re releasing a statement tomorrow,” he says. “It’s been drafted up already. Just explaining what actually happened that night and making it very clear that I was invited into the house and the only time I touched Colin was to defend myself, but his injuries were not my doing.”

“Can’t you also sue him for defamation? Is that what it’s called?” Suddenly feeling self-conscious about her lack of knowledge on the law, she adds, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this stuff.”

He smiles sweetly. “It’s a bit early to take that step. Jeff thinks the statement might be enough to make Colin retract his story. I’m not so sure.” He shrugs. “I guess we’ll see.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nope, you just keep being your lovely self.” He pokes her cheek.

“Well, Rosie’s over on her Instagram, trying to convince everyone that Colin’s telling the truth. I feel like I should say something too, like maybe—”

“Darling, trust me,” he interrupts. “There’s no need. My team will handle it. They know what they’re doing.”

She bites her lip and lets out a soft sigh. “Okay.”

“And let’s stay off social media for a while, yeah? Just to keep our sanity intact.” She knows he’s mostly saying this for her. He hardly uses social media unless it’s to catch up with his loved ones, and while she also isn’t on there that much, she struggles more than him when it comes to ignoring people’s opinions online.

“Yeah, definitely,” she agrees.

But later that night, while she’s lying in bed and Harry is finishing up his nighttime routine in the bathroom, the urge to look online strikes and she can’t resist. She opens up the hellsite known as Twitter and doomscrolls through the shitty takes of people who clearly don’t know a thing about Harry but have been desperately waiting for something like this to come out about him just so they can jump on the bandwagon and “cancel” him and pile on the hate like their life depends on it, despite the fact that none of them know what they’re talking about and—

“What are you doing?” Harry’s voice startles her. She quickly turns off her phone and looks at him standing next to the bed in just his Calvin Klein underwear, which does nothing to hide his prominent bulge.

“Nothing,” she replies.

He gives her a skeptical look.

She sighs. “I’m sorry! It’s like a car crash that I can’t look away from… Except I’m involved in the car crash and I didn’t even get the worst of it.”

He climbs onto the bed, gingerly plucking the phone out of her hands and placing it on the bedside table. Then he lies on his side next to her, propped up on one elbow. Y/N gazes up at him and shakes her head in awe at how laid-back he seems.

“I don’t understand how you’re able to stay so calm in just about every situation,” she says. “It’s infuriating and hot at the same time.”

He chuckles. “I just try to remind myself that these people don’t actually know me, so there’s no point in letting their opinions get to me.”

“You say that like it’s the easiest thing in the world.” Thanks to her social anxiety, Y/N has spent the better part of her life obsessing over what other people think of her, whether it be her loved ones or the random stranger that cashed her out at the grocery store. She has always yearned for the kind of cool indifference that people like Harry exude even in the face of immense scrutiny.

“I’ve had practice,” he says. “You’ll learn as well.”

“Yeah? Will you teach me?”

“Happily.”

His gaze shifts down to her lips, and he leans down to kiss them, soft and slow. Meanwhile, his finger traces along her jaw and down her neck until his hand comes to rest on one of her breasts. She’s not wearing a bra, and her thin shirt hardly acts as a barrier between his large hand and her supple skin. He squeezes her lightly in his palm, keeping his kisses and touches gentle, like he’s handling an expensive piece of porcelain.

For a moment, her mind drifts off to the comments she read online. She cannot fathom how anyone could believe that this man—this gentle, patient, loving man—would ever do the things that Colin accused him of.

It turns out that her mind isn’t the only one wandering off to other places because Harry suddenly pulls away and says, “Sorry to bring this up, but I…” His jaw clenches. “I just hate that he put his filthy hands on you.”

“I know,” she whispers, reaching up to weave her fingers through his curls in a soothing gesture. She had no idea that Colin’s actions towards her at the party were still bothering Harry.

“And with the press being all over it now, I almost wish I’d just beaten the living shit out of him. I mean, everyone thinks I did anyway.”

“Yeah, but that’s not you, H.”

He just shrugs.

Y/N sits up and tugs at his briefs. “Take these off.”

His brows perk up at her demand.

“I’m tired of thinking and talking about Colin,” she says. “So, let me give us both something else to think about.”

A smirk forms on his lips as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and pulls them down his legs.

Before he entered her life, Y/N would never take the lead during sex. She always felt like she lacked the self-confidence required for that, but then again, none of the men she’d previously slept with were ever willing to let her take the lead anyway. They were the type of guys to feel emasculated by relinquishing control to a woman, though they would never admit this.

Harry was different. He was equally happy to lead and be led, to give and to receive. That alone made sex with him an ethereal experience.

Now, once Y/N also strips naked, they rest on the bed with their positions reversed—him on his back and her propped up next to him. Her hand cradles his jaw before she leans down to kiss him. Then she brings her hand to his semi-erect cock, wrapping it around the base and stroking softly until he grows stiffer in her palm and starts leaking precum. She strokes his balls as well, drawing more fluid from his tip that she then uses to get his dick nice and wet.

Harry is ogling her exposed breasts now in that way he does when he really wants to suck on them, so she slides up the bed, allowing him to take them into his mouth. When she gives his cock a firm tug, he moans around her nipple. The sensation causes her own wetness to pool between her legs.

He continues licking and sucking on her tits, grazing his teeth over them ever so slightly. The pleasurable feeling momentarily distracts her from her task, but then she returns her attention to his needy cock twitching in her palm. She jerks him faster, moving her hand up and down his pinkish flesh with just enough pressure to turn him into a moaning mess under her. Her nipple falls from his mouth as his lips part.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he pants. “I— Wait, stop. Stop.”

She immediately stills her movements and starts to ask what’s wrong when he flips them over so that he’s on top of her.

“As much as I was enjoying that,” he says, “I want to feel your pussy on me when I cum.”

His erection prods her thigh as he hovers over her, his legs wedged between hers. He reaches down to her cunt, feeling the wetness that has accumulated there. She can see it in his eyes, in his blown out pupils, that he really wants to put his cock in her right then, but he takes a minute to toy with her clit and heighten the anticipation for both of them. At last, he grabs his cock and starts guiding it into her sopping pussy.

He pauses once he’s inside her and brings the hand that was playing with her clit up to her mouth, pressing his damp fingers against her lips until she opens up and takes them into her mouth.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he says.

Still sucking his fingers clean, she wraps her legs around his hips.

He grins at her quick compliance. “Such a good girl.” Then he emphasizes, “My good girl. Isn’t that right?”

She nods, closing her eyes as he grinds his hips down into her.

“Mhm. All mine.”

Her pussy contracts around him. Keeping his fingers in her mouth, he retracts his hips and thrusts back into her. She whimpers and wraps her arms around him, nails digging into his back muscles as the rhythm of his thrusts increases in speed and urgency.

He pulls his fingers from his mouth to place that hand on the bed for extra leverage. With her mouth free, all she can do is moan his name and cry out from the intoxicating feeling of his cock ramming deep into her cunt with every thrust.

“Look at you,” he coos. “Taking my cock so well. My perfect girl. My dream girl.”

His voice and his cock are the centre of Y/N’s universe right now; nothing else matters. Her orgasm is just around the corner, building rapidly in her core.

“Ready to cum all over my cock, Y/N?”

“Oh yes, please, yes—” She gasps as his hips rock into hers at just the right angle to push her over the edge. Her whole body locks around him—legs around his hips and arms around his back.

Harry grunts with one final thrust before letting himself go, filling her up with his seed. His body relaxes on top of her. She eases her grip on him as well. Their breathing slowly returns to normal, the rising and falling of their chests syncing up.

It’s hard to think about anything else after that. She wants to stay like that forever, with him covering her like a weighted blanket, his length gradually softening inside her. She even starts to drift off after a few minutes until Harry lifts his head to look at her.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me yet,” he says. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

She groans as he rolls off of her. He chuckles at her reluctance and drags her out of bed with him.

***

The viral storm rages on for days, even after Harry’s team releases the statement. Contrary to Jeff’s predictions, Colin doesn’t retract any of his claims and instead doubles down on them even harder, emboldened by the blind support of his followers.

Y/N and Harry block it all out. While she found it difficult at first to look away from the trainwreck, she was eventually able to redirect her attention to her art instead. For several days, the couple remains in their happy little bubble, unbothered by the incessant buzz of the online world.

That bubble pops on one sunny Friday afternoon.

Y/N is in need of some new art supplies, and Harry is in the mood to add to his vinyl collection. They decide to make a whole day out of it, visiting the art supply store and the record store before wandering around a few other places. One shop specifically dedicated to vintage home decor catches their attention, and they end up spending over an hour in there, walking through each aisle like kids in a candy store.

Harry is usually the first one to notice when they’re being watched or followed; they often joke that he has a third eye on the back of his head. Today, however, Y/N is the first to notice the two girls who keep showing up in or around the same aisle that they’re in.

Harry’s eyeing an antique candle holder set when she leans over to him and says quietly, “I think you have a shadow… Two, actually.”

He follows her gaze to the two girls idling at the end of the aisle. When he lifts his hand to wave at them, they seem to freeze in place like a couple of deer in headlights.

He turns back to Y/N. “I’m going to go say hi.”

She nods. “Okay, I’ll wait outside. Take your time.”

It’s a beautiful day out. Not too hot, not too cold. The cusp of spring. Perfect for a light sweater, but even in her long-sleeved shirt, Y/N feels nice and snug. She stands in front of the shop, the bags containing their new purchases hanging from her arm. She tilts her head up towards the sun and closes her eyes for a minute.

“Y/N Y/L/N?”

Her eyes snap open at the sound of her name. A short, balding man dressed in all black stands before her.

“Uh, y—yes? Do I know you?” she asks, giving him a once-over.

He smiles. “No, but I know you.” Suddenly, he pulls a big professional camera out from behind his back and brings it up to his face with the lens directed at Y/N to capture her reaction as he says, “Ms. Y/L/N, how do you feel about the allegations made by Colin Rogers towards your boyfriend Harry Styles?”

She tenses.

Y/N has always hated being the centre of attention. Of course, when you’re dating a global superstar, it’s inevitable. However, over the course of their relationship, they haven’t had too many run-ins with the paparazzi; Harry has become rather skilled at avoiding the pests.

She wonders how this guy figured out their whereabouts, but considering how much time they spent inside the shop, it wouldn’t be surprising if an employee, or even the two fans Harry is currently talking to, tipped him off.

When she doesn’t respond to his question, he says, “Colin claims that Harry has a short temper and is a lot more aggressive than he lets on. Is this true, Ms. Y/L/N?”

She looks over her shoulder at the shop windows to see if Harry is on his way out. Whenever she tries to step back or turn away from the annoying pap, he finds his way right back in front of her with his camera shoved in her face. Flashbacks of how Colin cornered her by the pool at Rosie’s birthday party flicker in the back of her mind.

She continues ignoring the intrusive questions until he asks her, “Has Harry ever hit you, Ms. Y/L/N?“

The question is so jarring that it almost feels like someone knocked the air out of her lungs. “Excuse me?”

The man seems pleased to finally get a reaction out of her. With a casual shrug, he replies, “Just felt the need to ask since the new claims came out.”

Her heart pounds in her chest. “What new claims?”

“A source close to you and Harry says that she’s seen him lose his temper with you on more than one occasion and—”

Her face contorts in disgust. “God, you people will believe anything! No, he hasn’t hit me. He would never. And the fact that you would ask any woman a sensitive question like that while filming her without consent is disgusting.”

“So… Are you denying the claims, Ms. Y/L/N?”

What do you think, dumbass? she wants to say, but she refuses to give him any more content. Of course, that only makes him more persistent, and yet again, the camera is far too close to her face.

“C—can you get that out of my face please?” she says, less assertively than she would have liked, but her anxiety is rising with every passing moment and the only thing on her mind at this point is how to slow down her heartrate before she passes out.

Suddenly, a ringed hand appears from the left side of her vision and shoves the camera down and out of her face.

“Whoa, don’t touch the equipment, man!” the pap shouts angrily, clutching his precious camera to his chest.

Harry steps in front of him, towering over his short figure. “When someone asks you nicely to get the camera out of their face, you get the camera out of their face. It’s not that complicated.”

The pap takes a step back, raising his hands by his sides. “Calm down, pal. What, you gonna hit me too?”

Harry just scowls at him, then turns to Y/N with concerned eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, let’s just go.” She reaches for his arm.

Not wasting another second, they start walking towards Harry’s car parked down the street. The pap is relentless, following them all the way there.

Right as Harry presses the button to unlock the car, he says, “Harry, any comments on the new claims about you hitting your girlfriend?”

Harry freezes in his tracks and turns around. “What did you just say?”

“H, let’s just get in the car,” Y/N pleads.

“Not my words, man,” says the pap. “Just saw it in the news today. A source close to you said—”

“A source close to me.” Harry scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“You can look it up if you don’t believe me. I’m trying to help you, man. Colin Rogers is dominating the narrative. This is your chance to say your piece—”

“Right, well, here’s my piece then.” The pap raises the camera to his face again as Harry says, “Colin Rogers is a narcissistic, misogynistic, abusive pile of shit.” Leaning towards the man, he adds, “And so are you.”

And with that, he gets into the car and so does Y/N. She’s still shocked about what he said to the pap, not that it wasn’t deserved. He’s just always so stoic in these situations, and it’s the first time she has witnessed him break.

They ride silently for a while until Harry says, “People are saying I hit you? What the fuck? What the actual—”

“Okay, wait,” she says, placing a hand on his arm. “We don’t even know if he was telling the truth. He could’ve been making it up to get a reaction out of us. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

This is new to Y/N, being the calm one in a crisis. More often than not, Harry is the one talking her anxious self down from the proverbial ledge instead of the other way around.

He doesn’t speak for the rest of the ride, but she can tell his mind is spinning. Once they reach home, she heads upstairs to change and put their shopping away. When she comes back down, Harry is sitting on the couch, leaning forward on his thighs with his phone in his hands. His face is set in a deep frown.

“He was right,” he says without looking up from his phone as she approaches him. “People really are saying that.”

She sits down next to him and gently pulls his shoulder to make him rest back against the couch. He sets his phone aside and rubs his hands over his face.

“Y/N, they think I’m some kind of monster. They think they need to, like… save you from me, as if I would ever hurt you…” Finally, he looks at her. “You know I would never hurt you, right?”

Her eyes widen. “Yes. Oh my God. You don’t need to tell me that, Harry.”

He sighs and tilts his head against the back of the couch. “Out of all the things people have said about me over the years, this has got to be the worst.”

She brings her hand to his jaw, his stubble scraping against her fingers. “Baby, look at me.”

He tilts his head down again to meet her gaze.

“These people don’t know you,” she says, using his own wording. “They’re just a bunch of trolls that feed off drama. They don’t care about the truth. They don’t care about ‘saving’ me. It’s all just an act. And in a few days, they’re going to move on to some other celebrity gossip that catches their attention. Meanwhile, the people who do know you are still going to see you as the big softie you are.”

The look in his eyes is still one of utter defeat and hopelessness, which makes her worry that her words have had no impact on him.

“Do you want to talk to someone else about it? Like Jeff?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “Don’t wanna talk to anyone. Just wanna lay here with you if that’s okay.”

“Of course.”

She lies on the couch and lets him rest his head on her chest, his arm wrapped around her middle. She tries to think of some other comforting words she can say to him but then realizes that she doesn’t have to fill the silence. Sometimes, the act of just being there for someone is far more comforting than any words can be.

***

Y/N is getting worried about Harry. A week has gone by and he has hardly left the house. Between the two of them, he is by far the more outdoorsy one, but even she has been outside more times than him this past week. He hasn’t been eating much, claiming that he’s “just not very hungry.” She often wakes in the night to find him lying there, just staring up at the ceiling, and has to coax him to sleep. She doesn’t even hear him singing in the shower like he normally does.

It crushes her to see him so low. She wants to single-handedly take down every person who has made him feel this way.

The day after the incident with the pap, she made the dangerous decision to see for herself what people were saying online. Most people seemed to recognize that these new rumours about Harry hitting Y/N were completely out of character. Despite how private they are about their relationship, people know that he practically worships Y/N from the way he talks about her in his music.

The ones who believed the rumours were a small, but vocal, minority. Harry’s fans were trying their best to drown them out, like it was their full-time job, and while Y/N feels grateful for them, she wishes there was more that she could do to help.

Today, she somehow convinces Harry to go on a walk with her around the neighbourhood. Intent on not being recognized, he opts for the most indistinguishable clothing that covers him from head to toe, combined with a hat and sunglasses. He even keeps the hood of his sweater pulled up over his hat.

“It’s so warm out,” she says as they stroll down the sidewalk. “How are you not dying in that?”

He shrugs and kicks a rock in his path. “Dunno.”

Most of his responses have been like that lately. Short, indifferent. She doesn’t take it personally. After all, she behaves in a similar way when her anxiety has her in its grips. And anyway, even though he doesn’t talk much these days, he hasn’t stopped being affectionate or reminding her that he loves her.

When they return home from their walk, Harry immediately removes his hat and sweater, confirming that he was indeed too warm in that. She makes a comment about craving a cold smoothie, and he offers to make one for her as well as one for himself.

“I can make them,” she says. “It was my idea anyway.”

He shakes his head. “No, I was a dick on our walk. Need to make up for that.”

She gives him a look. “H, you don’t need to make up for anything.”

“I do though,” he insists, walking off to the kitchen before she can protest any further.

Suddenly, her phone goes off in her back pocket. She pulls it out. It’s Rosie. For a few seconds, she vacillates between picking up and ignoring it. In the end, she picks up.

“Hello?”

“He broke up with me,” says Rosie.

Surprise, surprise, thinks Y/N. “Did you call to tell me that?”

“No, I… I need to confess something.” Her voice trembles as she states, “I—I’m the one who told the press that Harry hit you.”

Y/N lets out a sigh and leans against the small table in the entryway of the house. “I already knew that, Rosie.”

“You did?”

“‘A source close to me’? Not a lot of people can say they’re close to me, so it was kind of a no-brainer.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m going to tell everyone that it was all a story, that none of it is true.”

“It’s a bit late for that.”

“You have no idea how sorry I am. Colin got in my head and he—”

“Did he tell you to say that Harry hit me?”

“W—well, no…”

“So that was your own genius idea?”

She says nothing.

Y/N closes her eyes, trying to sound as firm as possible as she says the next few words, “Okay, Rosie, I need you to listen to me closely… I don’t ever want to see you again. I don’t ever want to hear from you again. And don’t ever come near me or Harry ever again. Do you understand?”

Rosie’s answer arrives in an ashamed whisper, “Yeah.”

She’s about to hang up, her finger hovering over the little red icon, then she lifts the phone back up to her ear. “One more thing. How did Colin get those injuries?”

“Um, he went to that bar on Jacob Street that night after you and Harry left. He got wasted and got into a fight with a guy almost twice his size.”

Y/N knows exactly which bar she’s referring to. Now that she has the information she needs, she bids her now ex-best friend a final goodbye and hangs up. Tears prick the backs of her eyes as she realizes that the longest friendship of her life has just come to a calamitous end.

She places her phone on the table and looks up at the ceiling to keep the tears in. Then a pair of arms wraps around her waist from behind. She looks over her shoulder at Harry.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he says. “I know she meant a lot to you.”

She smiles sadly, a tear escaping the corner of her eye.

“Look at us. We’re just a couple of sad people, aren’t we?”

She laughs. “No! I refuse to label us as sad people. We’re just going through a tough time and we’re going to get through this.”

“Yes, we are.” He gives her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m actually thinking of going back to therapy. It’s been a while.”

“That’s a great idea. I should probably do that too.”

Later that afternoon, Harry falls asleep while reading a book on the couch. Y/N takes this as her chance to chat with Jeff about something that’s been on her mind since her conversation with Rosie.

When Jeff picks up her call, she doesn’t even wait for him to speak before she says, “I know how we can prove that Colin’s lying.”

“Uh… Okay, elaborate.”

“I spoke to Rosie today and she told me Colin went to a bar that night where he got into a fight with someone and ended up with those injuries. I know which bar it is. If we can go there and get security camera footage from that night, we can prove that Colin was lying all along.”

“I see what you’re saying, but we can’t just walk into a bar and ask for their security footage. We’re not investigators.”

“Okay, but don’t you know someone who can do that? You’re an Azoff. You have connections, don’t you?”

“Yeah, in the entertainment industry, Y/N. Not in law enforcement.”

She releases a heavy sigh. “C’mon, Jeff, there has to be something we can do with this information… If you’re not going to help, I will go to that bar and steal that footage myself.”

“Don’t do that,” he says quickly. “Look, I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

“Thank you.”

There’s a pause before he asks, “How’s H doing?”

“Not great. He’s really torn up about what people are saying, especially the rumours about him… hurting me. Which is exactly why I need to clear his name. I know some people will still say nasty things about him—that’s never going to stop—but…” She bites her lip to keep herself from getting emotional, which seems to be happening a lot lately. “Harry has been there for me through so much. I need to do this for him.”

“He’s lucky to have you.”

She smiles. She didn’t know she needed to hear that until now. Ever since this mess began, a part of her has been blaming herself for putting Harry through this hell because Rosie and Colin never would’ve entered his life if it wasn’t for her. While she knows that it’s not her fault, sometimes her insecurities get the best of her.

“Thanks, Jeff,” she replies.

***

Not even twenty-four hours later, the bar footage is released online. It spreads like wildfire, turning all of Harry’s critics to ashes and causing irreparable damage to Colin’s credibility.

Y/N messages Jeff to commend him for retrieving the footage so fast.

Y/N: YOU’RE AMAZING I OWE YOU

Jeff: You can repay me by drawing 100 portraits of me that I can hang around my house

Y/N: On it 🫡

Even Rosie sticks to her word by announcing on her social media that everything she said was a lie, which adds another nail in Colin’s coffin.

Over the next few days, the ominous cloud that has been hanging over Harry and Y/N’s heads finally clears. Harry is back to being his bubbly, radiant self, lighting up every room he walks into. Life feels like it’s returning to normal, at last.

Tonight, they’re at dinner with Jeff and Harry’s two other managers, Tom and Tommy. It’s not a business meeting; Harry was just in the mood to treat the people who continue to support him both professionally and personally. Lately, Y/N has been feeling motivated to overcome her discomfort around eating in public, so she agreed to tag along as well. Towards the end of their meal, Jeff raises his glass and clears his throat to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay, we need to make a toast to someone at this table,” he states. “Not you, Harry. Don’t get too excited.”

Harry’s in the middle of sipping his drink, so he just flips his friend the middle finger, which Jeff graciously returns.

“This is a toast to Y/N and her investigative skills,” Jeff continues, now looking at Y/N, who is completely caught off-guard by this gesture. “She was the one who figured out how He Who Shall Not Be Named got his injuries. And she came up with the idea of getting the security footage from that bar.”

Everyone is staring at her now, including Harry. His eyebrows are raised in surprise as he asks, “That was your idea?”

“Oh, I— It was nothing,” she says modestly. “I didn’t even do much.”

Then Jeff reveals, “She even threatened to go to the bar and steal that footage herself if I didn’t help her.” He points a finger at her. “The lady knows how to get what she wants.”

Her cheeks flush red. “Okay, that might have been a bit dramatic, but I just couldn’t let Col—” She suddenly remembers their unspoken rule of not referring to Colin by name and corrects herself, “Sorry, I couldn’t let He Who Shall Not Be Named get away with smearing Harry’s reputation, so...” She shrugs, taking a sip of her water in a futile attempt to hide the blush on her face.

Harry smiles and squeezes her knee under the table. “Thank you, lovie.”

“Maybe we need to get Y/N on the team,” says Tommy.

“Oh yeah, she’s basically my guardian angel,” says Harry, winking at her. “Might as well.”

Y/N just laughs and accepts the praise, not bothering to hide her reddened cheeks anymore. She might hate being the centre of attention, but at least this is a good kind of attention.

“To Y/N, everyone!” says Jeff, lifting his glass up in the air.

“To Y/N!”

***

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[seshathawk]

I’d like to address something from season four that I haven’t seen anyone else address yet, though some people have spoken critically of the plots surrounding it.

A quick caveat: this is based off of my own experiences, and is not by any means an attempt to excuse, forgive, or erase any of the many mistakes that season four made. (This is going to be about parenting, for anyone who would like to avoid said topic.)

Hi. I’m the mother to a 4.5 year old child. When I met my husband, we were both working jobs, although he made more than me. I quit my job eventually for reasons that don’t need to be detailed here, and three years later had a baby and ended up being a stay-at-home mom to our child. At the height of the pandemic, I felt this was lucky; we wouldn’t have to scramble to find child care or anything like that.

Two years later, I was absolutely miserable and a completely different person.

Parenthood changes a person. A lot. Like, a lot. You have to sacrifice things, things that used to be important to you, again and again, in order to support your children, and you do it because you love them so much and you want them to succeed.

But something else happens, specifically to women who become parents. Some women intend to go back to work and never do. In some families, it’s cheaper for mom to provide childcare than it is to pay for daycare. Somehow, women end up being the managers of the household and primary caregiver for any/all children, all day, every day. This isn’t to say that these women don’t love their children. But, rather, that women end up carrying the burden of the invisible load for their entire household, including their husbands.

And this also isn’t to say that those husbands aren’t loving, or that they don’t take care of their kids too, or that these women don’t love their husbands. But it’s a huge burden.

Some examples of the invisible load: meal planning, grocery shopping, packing bags for outings or school, managing the family (kids) schedule, arranging for childcare, managing communication with childcare or school, making all appointments for kids or entire family, planning parties, making holiday (Christmas/Easter/4th of July/take your pick) magic, finding activities for kids to do, packing lunches, restocking things like toiletries or pantry staples, cleaning up clutter or getting family/kids to do same, putting away laundry, doing laundry, and…the list goes on. The list is eternal. There is no end to the invisible load.

And when you’re managing all of this and your husband does things like not know if you have a pantry staple at home, isn’t sure where your child’s clean underwear is, or forgets to do something very simple such as grab extra milk, it’s really easy to feel frustrated and resentful.

This is never explicitly stated in The Umbrella Academy, that this is how Lila feels. But it was pretty obvious to me. Her random statements like, “Why are you doing the cake now?” and “I told you to do the pinata two hours ago!” and “This isn’t about you!” felt true to me. Like, OH MY GOD, I do this every day, HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS SO WRONG. And, also, Diego casually says, “Hey, let’s just up and leave just like the old days, the kids will be fine with your family,” without appearing to have ANY IDEA about what goes into planning for kids to stay with relatives for what has to have been at least two days. (Sidebar: I’m not sure if the writers thought that bit through but I definitely read into it that Diego thinks it’ll be easy to slip away while Lila understands the intense logistics of this suggestion.)

So, when Lila said, regarding book club/undercover operations that she just needed something just for herself, I felt that, SO hard. Because you know what happens when you’re a mom? You’re doing the invisible labor and the emotional labor for (in Lila’s case) a family of five. When you finally have some time to yourself, it’s maybe an hour, and your choices are to try to do something relaxing by yourself, spend time with your husband (who you might resent a little), or do something for the house/family. Getting to escape and do something fun, just for you? That’s SO magical.

I do wish we’d seen more of their domestic life together, because I think that could have said a lot about their relationship. But I didn’t think for one second that Lila was unhappy because Diego is never present and never stops complaining, although I’m sure that’s part of it. I saw instantly that she was unhappy because her personhood has been crushed under the weight of motherhood and wifehood and that she was struggling. And that all she wanted—all any of us in similar situations want—is for her husband to understand that and step up, in a way that husbands really don’t understand, because patriarchy.

Does it mean she’d cheat on Diego? Does it mean she’d cheat on him with his brother? Not necessarily. Does it mean she might look for companionship or friendship elsewhere, outside of her family life? Does it mean she might be happy, for a while, living a more adventurous or quiet life, away from the demands of her family? Maybe! Would have been great if the show had explored that a little instead of turning her into part of a love triangle.

But I thought that Lila, burdened with motherhood in a way that Diego cannot ever truly know (because patriarchy), felt true to me and was one of the highlights of season four to me.

[abibliophobiaa]

Beyond — s.h. x f!reader

Chapter Three: Marry Me, Today and Every Day

a/n: here’s chapter three of my purely self-indulgent fun, which shouldn’t be taken very seriously, if at all fic. haha. wanted to play around with one of my favorite tropes, so here we are with modern day!rich!fake husband!steve harrington x afab!reader. next chapter we get down to business, and maybe things will start to take a turn for these two. who is to say? also--the book r is reading is an actual fanfic by @blueywrites​ that you most definitely should check out. haha. just a fun little easter egg. 

warnings/tags: hugely unedited (10k words); mentions of alcohol; parent loss, both parties; r has a sister and father; smut in later chapters, so 18+, minors dni; additional tags to be added.

masterlist

- 

Sweat slicks your palms. Brings an awareness to every inch of your body as you pace around your bridal suite. Fear permeates every nerve ending. Sets them alight with a new sort of panic. This daunting, unrelenting, overwhelming knowledge that in less than an hour you’ll be a wife. 

In less than an hour, you’ll be the new Mrs. Steve Harrington. 

A Harrington. 

Married to a man who you barely know, and yet his is the name you splutter out when your father asks what you need, noticing the staggering rise and fall of your chest, palm over your sternum where your heart races beneath. 

The room clears out then. Faces pass in your peripheral vision, all varying degrees of worry lining them. Whispers, you’re certain, from your soon to be mother-in-law and Steve’s grandmother, over if you’re getting cold feet. 

And it’s not that. 

Not really. 

You’ve resigned yourself to the understanding that this is what’s best for right now. Marrying Steve pays for your student debt, which gives you the liberty to find work in the interim while finishing up veterinarian school, and thus aids in assisting your father in taking care of what he needs to. 

With money not being a worry in your mind, all your efforts can be in assisting the man who gave you life and lost his own love too soon. All your efforts can be put into that little girl with fire in her eyes and love in every inch of her bones—even when she’s trying to hide it in her cell phone, on social media, or scrolling through TikTok. It’s a sacrifice you don’t have any lingering regrets over. 

He stands there in his tuxedo and wire frame glasses, hair styled back to perfection in a way that’s still so strikingly him, and yet elevated in a way you’ve not seen him before. Your head photographer, Jonathan, waves the rest of his crew out of the room when he realizes you’ll be needing a moment, the rest of the bodies filling the space finally slipping out of the room one by one until it’s just the two of you remaining. 

“Wow,” he breathes out, swiping his palms against the front of the black tux, eyes roving your form. “You look—wow.”

“I, ah, thank you.” You allow your eyes to trail his form. The head to toe dress attire, the effortlessness in which he holds himself. Handsome, disturbingly so, and he never acts like he’s fully aware of the effect he has. “You clean up well, Mr. Harrington.”

He chuckles and suddenly you’re just a girl, and he’s just a boy, standing in a room together, taking in one another. It’s a slow perusal. Him, handsome as ever, in all black, save for the little floral arrangement on his chest that mirrors the one you’ll be carrying when you walk down the aisle, the glasses he’s wearing for the evening, and the gold watch around his wrist.  

“Are you okay?” 

He steps closer, hand extending slightly before it drops back to his side. Like he thinks better of it, like he doesn’t feel right about being near to you. It’s been that way since your bachelorette party. Since the moment he kissed you and forgot that next morning. The look in his eye when he stated plainly he didn’t remember much at all about the moment where you wondered, if only briefly, that there might be something more to this arrangement than two people entering a business deal. 

From that moment on, he’d made himself very busy, and you spoke little. Figured it was likely better that way. No way to muddle the lines established in your fake marriage. Better now than when you’re deeper into the arrangement, and delusion might have arisen. 

But now, in this moment, you need that nearness. Crave the touch of the only other person who understands what you’re going through. The only other person who appreciates the depth of the nervousness pooling in your belly. Circling around your heart like a vice. Clawing at your lungs to leave you breathless. 

“I’m just nervous,” you admit, trying to keep the frustrated tears at bay by inhaling deeply. He moves closer, thumb brushing along your right hand to where you’ve moved your engagement ring until after the ceremony when it’s joined by your wedding ring. “We’re doing something absolutely insane.”

“Completely,” he agrees, and those fingers drag along the inside of your palm. Your fingers reflexively tighten around his, comforting warmth seeping into flesh. “But you can say the word and I’ll call it off now.”

“You’ll let me be a runaway bride?” 

It’s a watery laugh that prompts Steve to grip your other palm in hand as well, giving both a gentle squeeze. Your eyes wander downward to the two tethers anchoring you to earth in this moment, then to the kind face of the man who is to be your husband in minutes. 

“Just say the word and I’ll come up with an excuse why it couldn’t happen.”

“No. No. I’m marrying you today, Steve.”

He blows out an exhale. A stray hair falls down into his eyes at the motion, and your fingers hesitantly reach up to push at it. His stare pierces you, hazel eyes warm as you card your fingers through dark locks, feeling them shift and move beneath your fingertips, impossibly soft and lush. 

Gently, ever so gently the hand curling in your right one loosens and circles your wrist like a bracelet. Rests briefly over your frantic pulse point, before trailing along the back of your arm. Faint brushes of skin back and forth, back and forth, loosening that breath presently hitched tight in your chest. 

“How about this,” he begins, eyes darting to where gooseflesh starts to prickle along your skin. You chalk it up to the AC unit in the bridal suite, meant to block out the heat of the city in summer. “When you walk down the aisle, you only look at me. Don’t look at anyone else, okay? It’s just you and me out there, no one else matters. Eyes on me.”

“Okay.” 

A long exhale leaves your mouth. Lungs deflate with the deepest breath in what feels like hours now. Steve’s fingers extricate themselves from yours in those moments of quiet, footfalls of his leather shoes clacking along the floor as he makes his way over to the door. His hand curls around metal when your voice breaks into the resounding silence, quiet and minuscule for you, and you loathe to admit there are nerves that still cling to every fiber of your being over what you’re about to do in front of hundreds of literal strangers. 

“Steve.” 

It’s simple. But he turns quickly, barely opens his mouth to speak when you rush forward and wind your arms around his waist. And there’s no protest. No argument as broad arms twine around your waist. As they rest low against your back, radiating warmth and comfort. 

He remains like that, quiet and steadfast, until you’re both ready. Until you lace your fingers with him and he leads you to where your father stands ready to walk you down the aisle. He hands you off to the older man, rests a comforting palm on his father-in-law’s shoulder and dips his head once. Tips his head in your direction and offers you a kind smile. 

“Eyes on me,” he reminds you. 

“Eyes on you.”

So it begins. 

-

There’s a ring on Steve’s finger. You notice it as you sit beside him at your sweetheart table, as strangers and friends alike offer you congratulations and greetings in support of your nuptials. 

Because you’re married now. Freshly Mrs. Harrington. 

In a whirlwind of emotion, you’d walked down the aisle onto that beautifully lit private rooftop. Admired only briefly the weeks of wedding planning spent with your new mother-in-law and followed Steve’s directions. 

Eyes on him to block out your surroundings, eyes on him to ignore the shutter of Jonathan’s camera, of the other photographers milling about. Eyes on him as you heard the audible sniffles of Steve’s family and your own. Eyes on him as the officiant had you recite words that would bind you to Steve as you slid rings on each other's fingers. Empty words that felt like ash on your tongue. Nearly choked you as you spoke them out loud in front of hundreds of people. Declarations of a devoted love shared between kindred spirits wanting to spend the rest of their lives together. 

And you’d kept your eyes on him as you were declared husband and wife, as your new name was announced to that rooftop gathering, as they’d announced Steve could now ‘kiss the bride.’ 

He’d been warm and welcome. Lips brushed against yours with a gentleness that had your head spinning, stomach swooping low in your belly. When he leaned back to take you in, his palm, the one where his new wedding band sat, cupped your face. To others, a sign of affection. To you, a reminder that it was only you two up there. Even as he leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours, as the room erupted into applause, and he whispered to you. 

“Keep looking at me until we get back inside, okay?”

A simple sentence. A comforting command meant to quiet your fears with the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand against yours.  

Now you sit in a romantically lit room, all atmospheric blues dancing along the walls draped in white with your new first initial of your last name highlighted on the dance floor. Beside you, Steve chats enthusiastically with a man and woman, who offer you remarks on your appearance. It’s all you’ve heard all evening. Comments on your new marriage, how beautiful you look, how happy everyone is for you two. 

You find it eases that tension, helps you settle in against your chair, still holding your husband’s hand as you sip daintily at a glass of champagne. That and Steve’s constantly checking in on you, making sure you’re okay, offering to grab you another drink despite the fact wait staff quite literally answers your every beck and call. There’s a gratitude toward him that rests behind your ribs, an appreciation regardless of the confusing few days you’ve had as of late with him. 

Your husband who is not. A man you share a name with and only that. Who you signed paperwork with and will be heading off on a honeymoon with come morning. A man whom you’ll be sleeping in a separate bed from tonight, when most would assume you will be consummating your marriage. There’s none of that, only a pre-planned understanding. 

Agreements, plans, business deals.  

Before your mind can venture any further, the Emcee announces your first dance as husband and wife. You’ve almost forgotten about this part in all your planning. Never really thought beyond the kiss at the altar. Even so, Steve’s cupping your hand and leading you into the center of the dance floor where a giant ‘H’ is emblazoned below, drawing you near to him in an embrace as the song begins and you’re swaying back and forth in the arms of your husband. 

“I’m scared to death that she might be it, that the love is real, that the shoe might fit.”

“People are staring,” you point out, curling your hands around the back of his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Today is our day,” he laughs against the top of your head. Warm breath puffs along your skin, shiver tingling your spine. “I think you've forgotten. Everyone is here to celebrate us.”

“She might just be my everything and beyond. Beyond.”

“You’re my husband.”

He chuckles again, chest rumbling near your ear as you sway, his broad hands against your hips, tugging you closer. 

“Guess that makes you my wife, huh?”

“Space and time in the afterlife. Will she have my kids? Will she be my wife?”

Your nose wrinkles at the newness of your title. Wife. Wife. You’re someone’s wife now. And he’s your husband. Husband. You mouth the word once more silently to yourself, finding it unusual, tongue stumbling over it, and snort into his suit. 

That hand around your right hip tightens. “Something funny?” he asks, but there’s a levity in his tone that has your mouth jolting upward at the corners. 

“Just…this day.”

“I know,” he agrees, voice growing softer as he adds, “people are also staring because you are beautiful, you know? 

“Steve.”

“It’s true.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, pressing closer to him. 

“I know this day has been…stressful for you, but you’re not alone. There’s two of us now.”

“She might just be my everything and beyond.”

Your head tips back at his words, feeble mind stumbling momentarily over his compliment, heart thumping as you say, “Like a team.”

He grins. “Exactly like that. We’re the Harringtons now.” 

“The Harringtons.” 

The name falls easily from your lips, but your quiet conversation is disrupted by the clanging of glasses about the room. Silverware all around the room taps against the delicate surfaces, a continuous tinkering around you both that has Steve’s mouth parting slightly. The pink of his tongue swipes briefly across his bottom lip before he closes it once more, lines of his throat bobbing on a swallow. 

“They want us to kiss,” you tell him, sliding one palm down from where it rests around his neck until it curves around the edge of his jaw. You tip his head your way slightly, eyes scouring face. “And will probably be wanting us to do so all night. So…guess we might as well put on our best show, huh?”

It continues for the duration of the evening. Kiss after kiss bestowed by your husband. Constant expected affection. His fingers laced between your own, your hand on his thigh, his head on your shoulder, lips at your temple, lips on yours. Over and over again for hours. This time in a way that the slight buzz you have from your champagne could never erase—from either of your minds. 

The evening itself becomes fun. Music changes and you’re brought onto the dance floor with your new husband and the friends from your hometown, as well as the ones he’s made along the way. Strangers who become dance partners. Bodies twirling and swirling along the floor, hands tangling with hands, laughter pulling from your lips. Like this, with Robin and Eddie’s forms near to your own, you feel lighter. Like this, when the song changes and you sing the words out loud in a silly rush with Steve in the center as those around you egg you on, you allow yourself to let go. To be free. To enjoy the evening that is about you and Steve. 

Before long your feet are aching. Heels are discarded beneath you at your table, hand in Steve’s once more, as your closest friends give speeches. For Steve, it’s a rushed flurry of words from Robin. She speaks mostly to the closeness they’ve developed in the short time they’ve been friends, but a bond that has easily etched deep between the two of them. Speaks of your time as her roommate, about how she’d only been kidding when she said maybe you should get out there and start dating and quickly fall in love with her friend. Laughs easily when she says maybe she should have introduced them sooner. 

It almost feels real, the words she speaks—the words Eddie speaks as he grabs the microphone and draws it close to his lips. He ties his hair back quickly, sweat from dancing clinging to the bangs dancing along his brow, and he clears his throat. Unrolls a piece of paper that’s on the tiniest scroll you’ve ever seen, but rolls all the way down to the floor when he unfurls it. The room bursts into enthusiastic laughter, your chest aching in adoration at the first words he speaks. 

“You see…before I knew Steve, I knew his new wife. We grew up together in some shit hole town—I can curse, right? Sorry for all the kids here. Anyway, we grew up together…as I was saying. So when she asked me if I’d still love her if she did something stupid, I was thinking she meant a prank. Steve, just a heads up, your wife is a menace. A total damn menace. But I'm sure you knew that already.” He pauses for a moment as Steve chuckles, nodding his head in agreement, then continues, “And then she goes and falls in love with this guy. Big boy Harrington.”

Another round of laughter echoes in the room, and Steve grips your hand tighter in his where it rests against his lap. 

“Pretty stupid, huh?” He chuckles to himself, folding the microphone against his waist for a moment as he bows, thanking the crowd for their involvement. “But it’s not that stupid when I really think about it. Because these two are some of the best people I know. Really and truly, and it makes sense that we’re all here right now. Right here in this room. Two people like this are meant to find each other. Drawn together by some…cosmic force. I mean, look at them! Have you ever seen two people so in love?”

The room leans in. Swells with emotion as Eddie sniffles audibly. This part, you know, is part of his speech. He’d read it to the two of you the night before, just as Robin had. Those around you don’t know, but you do. And still, your guests are nodding in agreement. Some are dabbing napkins into the corners of their eyes, swallowing down knots of emotion welling in their throats. Your own father glances your way with a fondness that cleaves you down the center, ears ringing as Eddie continues the rest of his speech, filling the cavity with guilt. 

Clapping hands draw you from your silent reverie, followed only by the sound of metal meeting glass once more. The sound of your heart pounding in your ears as Steve slides a hand along the side of your face and leans down for the umpteenth time that evening, stilling your mind with the glide of his mouth against your own. 

Soon enough, the bouquet has been tossed, the garter awkwardly collected from your thigh, and cake has been shared between the two of you, sugary remnants that linger in Steve’s hair (a mental note made to never mess with his hair ever again upon fear of death in your marriage) still visible as guest stand on either side of an aisle outside where a car is waiting for the two of you, lit sparklers dancing to life in their hands. 

Your eyes meet his. “Ready to go?”

He grips your hand. “We’re in the home stretch now.”

-

Seventeen hours. 

Seventeen hours is what it takes for you to arrive in the Maldives. Plus the time spent traversing you two across the main private island to your smaller bungalow only accessible by boat. You’ve barely had time to take in the beautiful sights, tiredness clinging to every limb, by the time the two of you are deposited on a dock leading to the place you’ll be staying for the next five days. 

Steve clambers down onto the wood beside you, his own form looking a little worse for wear. He’s not spoken in quite some time. Neither of you have, really. Not since you returned to your penthouse after the wedding and slipped out of your wedding clothes. Nor when you parted down opposite ends of the hall. Even at the airport your conversation had been simple, pleasant, easy chatter about the weather and what you might do when you get to the island. 

“Look how beautiful!” You enthuse, taking in the beautiful thatched roof of your private honeymoon suite on the water. 

Pretty purple light douses the building, casts that same hue across the surface of the lagoon that laps against the edges of the boardwalk. From where you're standing, you can see another pathway leading to an outdoor gazebo and dining area draped in flowing cream curtains that billow in the gentle caress of the breeze around you. 

You turn to look at your husband. “Wanna go explore?” 

He yawns, head dipping as your guide lingers behind on the boat, wishing you two a lovely first evening on your honeymoon. Inside you’re met with a beautiful living room with sliding glass doors that lead to a deck, fully stocked with a jacuzzi, pool, and a sunken outdoor bath. Tired bones scream at the prospect of using them, though you proceed further into the suite. There’s a beautiful kitchen with the option of a private chef, a gym, an indoor spa you know you’ll be utilizing, the master bathroom with a tub that looks like it could fit ten people, and finally…the master bedroom. 

The suddenness of your realization dawns, because your eyes immediately hone in on the one bed. A king bed, but only one all the same. You’re tired, you’re so tired that all you want is to peel back the covers and clamber in, but this throws a wrench into those plans. That clarity must also hit Steve, because he’s dropping his things to the ground and walking around the side of the bed to grip a pillow in hand, and begins making his way toward the entrance of the bedroom when you splutter audibly. 

“Where are you going?”

He cards his fingers through his hair, exasperation lining those withdrawn features. “There’s a couch I saw in the living room.”

You shake your head, reaching out to cup his bicep. It instantly tenses under your fingertips. You don’t dwell on it, and instead argue, “You’re going to kill your back. We’re here for five days. We’re adults…we can share a bed.”

It’ll be like a sleepover. An adult sleepover where no sex is involved. Definitely not on your honeymoon—and definitely not with the man you married nearly twenty-four hours ago who you know very little about. You don’t know his birthday, his likes, dislikes…you don’t even know his favorite color, his favorite show, or if he’s a dog or cat person. Sleeping in the same bed as him will be a cake walk. Nothing to even worry about. A mere blip on the radar.

“I just…I don’t want…” He exhales deeply, and you finally notice the dark circles under his eyes. “You’ve already done enough by uprooting your life and marrying me—”

“It’s a bed, Steve.”

That seems to quiet the tension in his shoulders. They drop into a slouch, his form trailing back over to the side of the bed facing the wall when you clear your throat, awkward laugh breaking into the otherwise silent room. 

“I like to sleep facing the wall,” you say gently, noticing the slight downturn of his lips. “But I’m assuming you do as well, so for the sake of both of our sanities I can sleep facing the door.”

He shakes his head vehemently. “No. No, I’ll take the door side. I can handle a few nights.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Happy wife, happy life, right?”

Your lip twitches upward. “You don’t snore, do you?” You ask teasingly. 

“I…don't think so. But I’m sure you’ll tell me if I do,” he says, moving himself around the bed once more. He settles down against the mattress, testing the surface beneath his palm. “Bed is soft.”

“I would hope it would be for a private honeymoon villa. Your mother really went all out, huh?” 

Your head tilts upward, taking in the vaulted ceilings. Where you’re standing you can even hear the sound of water lapping on the deck outside your windows.  

“Pretty sure she’s secretly hoping I extend the Harrington line this week.”

Your nose wrinkles at that. “We’re absolutely making a pillow wall after that comment.”

“I’m joking,” he grumbles, body falling backward onto the bed. 

One thing you’ve learned about Steve Harrington? He’s dramatic—impossibly so. Sort of like Robin, though he’s more frustrated outbursts versus her nervous or frantic ones. 

“Pillow. Wall.” 

“Fine.”

You walk over to the bed where your husband lays with his eyes closed and forearm strewn over his face. Bare knees brushing his, you reach out and tug on his free hand splayed near his hip, trying to drag him upward to no avail. 

“Stop being a big baby.”

“We just flew for seventeen hours,” he argues, sitting upright. 

“Steve. Lift your hulking ass off the bed. The sooner you get up, the sooner we go to bed.”

Your new husband grumbles to himself as he stands to his feet, helping you pull down the comforter on the top of the bed. Satisfied, you pluck a few of the extra pillows and make a line down the center of the mattress, pointing out your side and his, before slipping into the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

You follow your normal routine. Wash your face, brush your teeth, slip on a moisturizer. You change out of your clothes next, opting for a matching set of shorts and a tank top, before tossing your street clothes into a laundry bin and sliding into your “Bride” slippers given as a gift by one of your friends at your bachelorette. 

There’s a brief moment your eyes trail to the shower, where there’s glass paneling and a bench in the corner and then further to your right toward the gigantic bath tub you could practically swim in…and huff. Such a strange thing to be in this beautiful honeymoon hideaway with a man down the hall who regards you as a friend.

The same friend you now share a last name with. 

Pushing the thoughts aside, you meander back down the hall to your bedroom for the next five days and come to find Steve laying on his stomach with his broad back on display, sheets hung low around his waist. You can map the various freckles and marks along his skin from where he rests, head resting on his forearm. 

Smiling to yourself, you settle down into the bed and roll over to shut the lamp nearest your side of the bed. The room descends into darkness, and you whisper, “Goodnight,” before following him into sleep. 

-

Pristine blue water surrounds you as far as the eye can see. The world is quiet from your home away from home for the week, save for the rustle of your book pages turning as you progress through the story and the sound of Steve’s fingers clacking across a keyboard. You exhale with a long huff, pushing your sunglasses higher up on the bridge of your nose. 

Steve’s been working for hours now. 

Since you both woke up, really. 

Initially you had been a little miffed as you cooked up something for the two of you in your large kitchen, opting out of calling for a private chef to do so, and he pulled out his phone and laptop. You figured that was fine, up until the headphones went in while you sat down across from him and ended up sharing your breakfast in complete and utter silence. 

On its own, that wasn’t so much an issue. What bothered you was your request to go outside and enjoy the sun together, and he’d agreed. In your mind, his intentions were genuinely to spend time with you. He’d slipped into a bathing suit and everything, only to join you on the sun deck with his leather work bag, laptop pulled out before you could even get in a word of protest. 

“You know, most people enjoy their honeymoon,” you tease, turning the page in your book. 

You find yourself needing to take a break anyway. The two couples in your book are on vacation themselves, and the main character kissed the dark haired hero on the makeshift dance floor after one of the hottest dancing scenes you’ve ever read occurred. And seeing as your own honeymoon is not heating up, you’re frustrated. 

Increasingly so when he says, “This isn’t a typical honeymoon.”

“Weren’t you trying to wrap up the business before we came here?” 

You recall a conversation you had wherein he said as much about wanting to make sure he’d be able to partake in the Maldives, but it seems those words were rang untrue. 

“Yes, but…things happen.”

Your book thumps onto the lounger beside you. “You do realize everyone thinks we’re on a real honeymoon, right?”

He dips his head, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he glances over the top of his laptop to glance your way. 

“Your coworkers are going to be confused why you’re logged in for work while you’re here. I mean—look how romantic this place is!”

“I’m not following…”

Huffing, you curl your legs beneath you, shifting your body toward him. “You’re supposed to be…you know, giving me attention every hour of the day while we’re here. Ravishing me. Going at it like—non-stop. It’s supposed to be overly romantic. Flowers on the bed, sexy showers, no sleep, naked trysts in the kitchen—”

“Fine.” He shuts the laptop. Tucks it away in his leather bag. “I’m logging off. Happy?”

You grin enthusiastically. “Very, husband.”

Steve disappears inside for a moment, then appears once more with his phone in hand. You’re about to argue with him when he shows you he’s playing a game of solitaire—which you snort at, shoving him when his eyes roll—and slip your sunglasses back on over your eyes. Opening your book, Steve pushes at the back cover, leaning in close to try and read the short description on the back of what lingers inside the dog-eared pages. 

“What are you reading, wife?” You catch the slight uptick of his lip; the smirk he tries to hide.  

Conversation. Small talk. You can work with that. “To Know You’re Mine.”

He tucks his phone near his thigh. “What’s it about?” 

“Swingers.”

“That’s very vague,” he points out. “Can you give me a little more than just ‘swingers?’”

Your brow arches. “Do you really care?”

“No, I’m asking because I’m bored.” 

Shifting your chairs closer to one another, you flip the book over so he can see the front cover and start pointing out the little cartoon characters on the nondescript covers on shelves everywhere nowadays. 

“So there’s these two who are dating, right? Have been for a long time. But it’s her first boyfriend and they live together. Then one day, he takes her to his friend’s show. And that’s where you then meet these two characters. Just so happens, they start swinging and…well, it gets really crazy. Do you want me to tell you the rest? I’m about…halfway.”

He nods his head and you explain the entirety of the plot so far. And maybe your honeymoon isn’t perfect, maybe jet lag kicks in and Steve starts to nod off right around the time you start explaining the chapter you’re up to, and maybe you have to nudge him to come inside so he doesn’t get sunburned. 

Maybe you watch him as he lays down on the living room couch and you drape a blanket over his slumbering form. Maybe you settle down on another couch and roll over onto your side to look at him, your book long discarded on the coffee table. Maybe you allow yourself to roam his features, so much younger than his twenty-seven years when he’s resting like this—when he doesn’t have a whole company on his shoulders. 

Maybe you close your eyes too and join him. 

-

Suffering from jet lag, your first day is spent mostly lounging around. Sleeping off the long trip you’ve taken to get to where you are. Steve sits on his couch near you, and you sit bundled in blankets on the couch opposite. You watch reality TV, a show where couples pair up in a villa and try to make romantic connections, and scroll through social media. Allow yourself to click through different stories from your friends accounts, glance at the few articles printed, and scour the comments beneath regarding your recent wedding. 

TikTok is blowing up with videos of you and Steve photographed with Eddie. You are in your wedding gown and Steve is beside you, hand in yours. He looks happy. Genuinely happy in a way that has you smiling over to where he sits, hazel eyes drifting your way curiously. You don’t even know how they got access to them in the first place, and likely don’t even want to know. 

Overall, it seems like most are impressed and craving more photos. Wanting the inside scoop on the famous Corroded Coffin member’s best friends. No one seems to question the validity of the marriage, though there are questions as to why so quickly, but are snuffed out by those who make note that it isn’t like the two of you haven’t been in the same social circles for some time now. That it was a matter of time before the two of you realized love was always there, right in front of the both of you, and all you needed to do was reach out and grasp it.

By the next morning, you’re both awake and ready to take on the day, ordering a boat to the main island for your spa day. The prospect of a massage after the weeks spent planning your wedding sounds lovely, and you tell Steve as much, leaning into his frame as your guide asks how the first day of your honeymoon was. 

“Amazing,” you gush, though you spent another night with a mountain of pillows between you and the man beside you. The only reason you’re close now is because they’re watching your interactions, gauging the newlyweds. “It’s so beautiful here.”

And that’s that, until you arrive at the spa booked for a private afternoon with your new husband, compliments of your new mother-in-law and the travel agent she’d worked alongside to make sure your accommodations were all you could ever dream of. 

The only detail left out on your itinerary was the fact it was a nude spa. Fully. Part of some “bonding exercise” as the attendant explained before the two of you entered the hot spring, freshly massaged and draped in the coziest of robes to ever grace your skin. 

You’re left alone with Steve in a darkened room warmed by the steam rising from the water’s surface, eyes dragging along his presently clothed form.

“I’ve seen your chest? You sleep shirtless, which…I mean, is fine. And uh…you’ve seen me in a bikini. It’s kind of like that, no?”

“Except now we’ll be naked.”

“Well, there’s that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“I mean, it’s not that serious. No cause for alarm bells,” you say, trying to ease the tension rolling off of Steve’s shoulders in waves. “I mean, you could always turn around and I can get in first. Just…eyes above the water level only.” 

Steve rubs a hand along the back of his neck, nodding slowly. “Yeah. Sure. Okay, you go first.”

He doesn’t move for a moment, and you rush over the small deck to turn him around so he’s facing the wall. With his back turned, you untie the robe and drape it across a rack, then move over to the water’s edge to dip your toes into the water with a sigh. Warm water laps at your skin, coaxes you further into the hot spring until you’re settled down on a bench, water up to your shoulders, hopefully obscuring the rest of you from view. 

“Okay, I’m in,” you announce. “You can get in. I’ll close my eyes.”

You pinch them shut in emphasis, clapping your hands over your face just in case. The sound of his bare feed padding across the deck reaches your ears, followed by the splash of what you assume to be a foot stepping into the water. It’s followed by a low exhale. 

You pop your eyes open momentarily and Steve’s voice has you clapping them shut frantically. A shout of, “I’m not in all the way!”

“What are you waiting for?! Jesus to come back?!” 

“Oh, I don’t know, to adjust to the warm water. It’s cold out here.”

You scoff. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t see your dick.”

“Can you not?” 

“What? I didn’t!”

“I’m glad you didn’t!” 

You scoff. “I mean, ow. That’s kind of rude. I’m your wife.”

“Did you bump your head and forget the part where we’re on a fake honeymoon, following our fake wedding?” He whisper-yells, still not moving down the stairs leading into the sauna.

“I didn’t say I want to see it! Don’t get too big of a head now,” you amend, eyes narrowing. “Steve, just get in, please.” 

Your sigh of exasperation has him moving swiftly. Water ripples around your shoulders, gentle caresses against skin as he settles down beside you and announces you can open your eyes. 

“There’s this dinner spot I think we should try out tonight. It’s on the main island, but it’s supposed to be really good,” he says after a while, drawing your attention to him. “I figure it could be nice to spend an afternoon out. Together.”

“Is my husband asking me on a date?” You tease, watching as his head submerges itself under the water, leaving you in solitude. “I’m kidding. Kidding, Steve. This seems on brand; my husband trying to escape me on our honeymoon.”

He emerges with a laugh, hair slick against his head, broad chest heaving up and down as he catches his breath. It’s then your eyes wander southward. Hitch on the hair lining his chest, the way it trails below the surface of the water, hinting at a downward path your heart clenches at the mere prospect of following.

Steve’s…well, your husband is handsome. You’ve known since you met him that first time nearly a year ago. But now, sitting there, with the ring you got him your ring on his finger as he cards his fingers through his hair. It…shouldn’t do anything, but it does. Bubbles to life feelings you would rather push away, sweep under a rug, ignore. 

Deflect, deflect, deflect. 

It’s easier this way. 

Because he’s not your real husband in the ways that matter. 

Capturing your current distraction as you continue to mindlessly stare, Steve taps your shoulder, drawing your gaze back to his face, your mouth twisting into a frown. 

“Sorry, sorry. I wasn’t looking I—”

Scrambling to escape the moment, you start to rise a bit from the water, only for Steve’s gaze to stray. “Eyes up here, Harrington,” you tease, shoving at him and forcing him deeper into the water, hazel eyes bright and wide, holding you in place there in that sauna. 

He laughs, spluttering as his head dips beneath the surface. 

A deep, hearty, lyrical sound. 

That laughter continues until dinner, where Steve brings you to a lovely outdoor restaurant on the beach. All around tables lit by candlelight outline the sandy floor. Little twinkling lights illuminate the space, hidden in the trees, curling around their slender trunks. It’s gorgeous, and you say so as your waitress congratulates you on your marriage while she seats the two of you, offering a bottle of champagne gifted by your mother-in-law. 

Until it stops because of a simple sentence that makes Steve stiffen on the spot: “Are those the new Harringtons?”

-

It’s supposed to be easy. A business deal with a contract like the ones he’d grown up reading. An exercise his father had him do often: would hand him a detailed contract, pages thick, and see if Steve could find the faults within. It’s why he knows the one he drafted up for his own marriage was—or rather, should have been—perfect. But marriage contracts don’t account for persistent wives. For the types of women who seep into the crevices of your life and make themselves known. 

And that, he finds quickly, is you. You’re vibrant and joyful and downright fun to be around, and try as he might to deny it, finds himself enjoying your company. But he’d told himself, from the moment on that rooftop when he’d asked you to marry him, that these things could only grow complicated if he allowed them to. If he allowed himself to open up, to feel, to wonder. 

Such as this moment, presently staring him in the face. You are in that pretty, off the shoulder cream dress he’d seen you unpack back in the bedroom that clings to your every curve, as Carol and her husband, Tommy H, settle down at the table beside the two of you. And, naturally, you slip into easy conversation with them. Chipper chatter as you catch up on the happenings of your honeymoon so far. 

“Isn’t it just so beautiful here? It’s actually our first time here too, but it has been so lovely. Have you two been able to get out and see anything? I’m sure you’re still in that first few days of your trip bliss,” Carol asks, waggling her brows teasingly. 

“I…uh, what?” You pause for a moment, reaching across the table to grab Steve’s hand in yours. As if you’ve just remembered you’re married and are meant to play the part of a newlywed. “Oh, yeah…so we have a private bungalow on the water. So you can imagine…” 

“That sounds so romantic. Ugh, honey—” She reaches over to clasp her hand around her own husband’s forearm fondly, as if she’s reliving memories of their own newly wedded bliss. “If you haven’t seen any beaches yet, you definitely need to. The water was so perfect. We also tried out this really lovely breakfast place. Great for a morning meal and it’s connected to the sweetest trail. Such pretty scenery here, isn’t there, Tommy?”

Tommy nods, turning to Steve when the girls slip into easy conversation, grinning widely. “She seems great, buddy. So happy for you.”

“She really is,” Steve admits, catching the profile of your pretty face. The upturn of your lips that has his heart careening into the pit of his stomach. 

He hates when it does that, and it seems to do so all the time now. 

He knows it’s not coincidental. 

And that’s the problem, now isn’t it? 

The charm you possess. The way Carol and Tommy talk to you like they’ve known you for years as opposed to the few minutes it takes to learn their background history. To find out that they know Steve from the private school they went to in the city. You quickly learn Steve and Tommy played baseball together, before Steve went to business school and Jason pursued the major leagues. They’ve not seen each other in years, so there are no hard feelings about not being invited to the wedding, but they’re happy for the two of you. 

Steve told himself marrying you would be easy because he knew little of you. You’re his best friend Eddie’s best friend. You were previously Robin’s roommate. But up until your vows at the altar you were a name his friends would bring up in conversation, and now you’re central to a majority of his conversations, share a last name with him, have now shared a bed with him. 

Luckily, there are only a few more days left of your honeymoon. A few until he’s back in the city, back to work, and back to normalcy. You’ll be heading back to school, he’ll have a semblance of reality he feels he’s been lacking, so wrapped up in wedding planning and get togethers, and he’ll have no questions as to why he’s finding it so hard to keep your marriage strictly as what it was always intended to be: a business deal. 

For now he’ll have to deal with you grabbing his hand flirtatiously when an Emcee announces a competition for that evening that manages to put a new glint in yours and Carol’s eyes. An expectant glee for him to participate with you, keen on competition, despite his grunts of protest. 

For now he’ll have to deal with the way your eyes meet him as a coconut is pressed between the two of you and the game of the evening is announced. Coconut smoochie, wherein two couples compete to bring the coconut between their bodies up to their mouths for a kiss, without using their hands. 

For now, he’ll have to deal with the smirk that lines your lips as he starts shifting this way and that, coconut rolling between the two of you, sliding against his abdomen, his chest, your chest, your breasts. 

For now, he’ll have to ignore the way you grin to yourself when Carol and Tommy drop their coconut behind the two of you, how satisfied you are when Steve manages to get the coconut under his chin and pinches it there. 

“Harrington, you’re not so bad at this,” you tease, chest against his, hips against his. 

One wrong move and—

“Can’t believe you got me to do this.”

“You’re on your honeymoon. Live a little. Life doesn’t have to be numbers and contracts all the time.”

And you’re right. He knows this. But he hates the way his stomach twists violently, how his heart clenches as your lips press against the coconut and the other side is pressed to his mouth. Hates how when you’re announced the winners and the coconut drops to the floor between you, his palms sweat as your arms come to curl around his waist. 

Because you’re his wife, yes. 

Technically. 

On paper, at least. 

But that’s all it can be. 

This affair, this agreement—it has an expiration date. 

Three years. 

Three years and then you’ll be gone. 

Lost to him, like so many others. 

For the sake of your agreement, it has to remain that way. 

-

Light seeps in through your bedroom window. A heaviness around your waist, like a weighted blanket, keeps you still. Comforted. Warm. A sigh spills from your lips, pleasant and happy. Contented. Burrowing deeper into that warm, you hum, relishing in the feeling of it. Of being cocooned, safe, held close. 

Held close. 

Held close. 

Held— 

Head shifting, you come to notice Steve flush against your back. His hips against your backside, thighs tangling with yours, and that weight around you? Yeah, it’s connected to a wrist, a bicep—because it’s an arm. Steve’s broad arm cages you in against his bare chest. His warm, freshly tanned, bare chest. Those fingers around your hip curl tighter. The arm around you tugs you closer, though you’re not sure how much closer two people can be without climbing into the other person, and you realize the very…interesting situation you two have found yourselves in. 

His body against yours. Your body flush against him. His breath in your hair, along your ear, his mouth near the hinge of your jaw. If he moves even the slightest bit, they’ll make contact with your skin. And you’ve kissed Steve enough times now to know said kisses are dangerous. They’ll only lead to dreaming, to questioning, to wondering. 

You don’t have time for any of those things. 

Your honeymoon is coming to a close soon enough. Only a few days left now, and then you’ll be back to your own lives. To normalcy. Or as normal as two people freshly married can be.

“Steve?” Your voice is quiet in an attempt to not startle the man holding you. 

His mouth shifts near your ear. A low yawn spills against your jaw, heat fanning across your skin. “Yeah?”

“You’re squeezing me,” you point out, wiggling your body for emphasis. “Our pillow wall fell down in our sleep.”

But it’s in the wiggling against his solid form that you realize there are actually three people in the room. Your husband, yourself, and the warm, thick, long, and presently hard erection pressed against your bottom. 

It’s also when you hear the slow exhale of your husband’s breath along the hollow of your ear. A telltale sound, even in the short time you’ve been married, that signals he’s hardly awake. Still in that wispy world between waking and sleep. Deciding to not rouse him further, you settle back down into his embrace. 

Or rather, try to. When you do so, your body freezes on the spot. Cold water seemingly drops from a bucket onto your shared bed. Because Steve whimpers against your shoulder. 

Whimpers. 

A breathy, needy sound that has your stomach fluttering. And further still, as your heart rate picks up, realization dawns. Your knee involuntarily searches for its twin beneath the covers, thighs clenching around Steve’s thigh. This time, he moans. A deep rumble in his chest that vibrates along your spine, has your fingers clutching at his arm slung low around your hips. 

“Steve,” you try again, pleading with whoever listens from above as Steve’s hips roll forward, cock pressing against your backside again, making your pussy flutter around nothing. Betrays you and your damn emotions. Your pillow swallows your moan, desire racketting in your veins. “Fu—Steve.” 

Awareness grows. Waking follows. Steve starts to shift behind you, arm loosening from around your waist, chest slipping from your back. His form moves toward the headboard and you try to not miss the loss of his warmth so deeply, try to not linger on the instantaneous loneliness that creeps when the king sized bed grows even larger before you, the gaping maw between you created by lies and acts, touted before your closest family and friends never so insurmountable. 

As you rise from your own pillow and look at him, he tugs the blankets higher up on his hips, hands moving to the bedside table to grab his glasses and phone. Your mouth opens to speak, to reassure him it’s fine, that it happens, that it’s just a silly pillow wall, but he mutters shower and slips out of the room and down the hall. 

Huffing, you roll onto your back, listening to the sound of your racing heartbeat coming back to a normal rhythm. It’s joined a moment later by the water running, the gentle rainfall of the shower head in the master bathroom sparking to life, likely steaming that room. 

You don’t want to think about it. 

Try hard to not think about the figure of your husband slipping into the stream. Try not to imagine the sight of his bare chest on display, rivulets of water dripping down his sculpted abdominals, fingers running through the hair growing longer since you’ve met him on his head, along the stubble that’s lining his jaw and upper lip now. Try to not imagine him still pressed against you, rolling his hips against yours, drawing a quiet moan from you. Definitely don’t imagine what he’s likely doing in the shower to alleviate his…situation. Your fingers edge along the hem of your sleep shorts as you try to block out the image of his corded arms straining in the shower as those long fingers curl tight around his c—

No! 

Absolutely not! Not going there. 

NOPE. 

-

The day before your flight home arrives sooner than you expect it to. Five days of…well, maybe not marital bliss, but something, passing before your eyes. After the night you woke to Steve’s arms around your waist, the pillow wall became a pillow mountain. 

And, though you loathe to admit it, you hate the mornings that follow. They remind you of what you can expect once you’re back in the city with him. Nights where you slip to one end of the hall and him the other, where you pass each other on the way to grab coffee in the morning, where you wave goodbye before one of you leaves and silence follows. 

Steve wakes early the morning of your last day, mutters that he’s going to spend some time in the private gym, leaving you to make breakfast for when he gets out. With both a plate of eggs and coffee brewing for your husband, you open your laptop with the intention of making sure all your classes have been set up. 

What greets you there isn’t…well, it’s not unexpected. It was part of your deal, but you hadn’t anticipated him paying the bill already. 

Thousands of dollars were paid, bringing your total due for the semester down to nothing. 

Zero. 

Zilch. 

Eyes burning, you close the lid of your laptop, sniffling as Steve enters the room and thanks you, taking a bite of his breakfast. 

“You didn’t have to cook again,” he says. “We haven’t called the private chef at all this week.”

You shrug, wiping at your under eyes quickly. “I don’t mind. I like cooking. I’ll have to go shopping when we get home.”

Home. 

That’s right. 

The walls of your penthouse that feel so far from it are, in fact, your home. 

“Don’t drive yourself crazy cooking all the time. I order out or go out most nights anyway.”

“Right,” you say, dipping your head and pouring him a cup of coffee. “I’ll be busy with school soon anyway.”

“Exactly.” He sips his drink. “That should be your main focus.”

“Right.”

Awkward. 

Stilted. 

Uncomfortable. 

Those feelings linger as you step out onto the hammock outside, dangling over the water below. Your book is back on your lap, Steve’s on your right, freshly brought up to speed on where you’re at. The main character broke up with her boyfriend and told the main male lead that they need to stop seeing each other. 

Needing to take a break from it, tears gathering in your eyes, you tip your gaze up to the sky. The sun beats heavily on your head, warms your skin, and makes you sleepy. 

Steve turns his head your way, fingers trailing along your forearm, breaking you out of your silent reverie. “Hey. Are you okay? You’ve been a little quiet this morning.”

“Yeah.” You nod, rolling over onto your side. Reaching up to place your book on a safer spot of the deck, you shift closer to him, lips turning downward. “I saw you paid my semester—”

“I told you I would. It was part of the deal.”

The deal. 

The arrangement. 

“I know, I just…seeing it was kind of overwhelming. In a good way. In an…I’m really grateful kind of way.” A slow exhale spills from your lips, chest falling with the effort of it. “I know we didn’t get married in the most, uh, conventional way, but—there are things that this will allow me to do that I wouldn’t be able to otherwise. It’s a big weight lifted off my shoulder. So. I guess thank you for marrying me.”

The corner of his lip twitches upward as your husband rolls over onto his side, sunglasses blocking half his face from view. “This is also a weight off my shoulders, too. I think you forget that. I needed to get married for the company—”

“A company you don’t want,” you tease, wrinkling your nose. 

“A company I don’t want,” he agrees, chuckling lightly. “But I’d rather it stay out of my cousin’s hands. So thank you for marrying me.”

“Ready to go home, Mr. Harrington?”

He snorts. “Sure, Mrs. Harrington.”

-

-

[buckyseddie]

tragic endings

pairings — logan (james) howlett x fem!human!reader

summary — in which, after she takes in a young, troubled mutant in and vows to protect her from all dangers that she seems to be in, she meets the famously-brooding wolverine, who unexpectedly changes her life.

word count — 16.2k.

warnings — mentions of reader suffering through parental neglect and abuse as a child and having LOADS of trauma (LOTS of heavy hints of ptsd too!), mentions of reader taking some lives in order to protect laura and carrying a LOT of guilt, ANGST (obviously, because this isn't a happy ending type of fic), some fluff in it though, reader's in her early twenties, character death and self-sacrifice, equal pining, kisses, use of pet-names [kid, sweetheart, doll], mentions of the reader being depressed and having anxiety and also being suicidal / wanting to die, also a little bit of logan and the reader posing as laura's parents, reader has abandonment and codependency issues, reader also has raging anger issues.

notes — i have one word to describe this fic: long. it is going to be VERY long. also, i love that i finally finish this right as i find out that my grandma passed away... we love grief! gif and divider creds to owner!

p.s., feedback is very much encouraged and appreciated <3.

main masterlist

IT'S SORT OF... COMPLICATED. ALL she knows, is that she feels something — something she can't quite explain — for the little girl that has suffered through so much pain and loss.

how could someone who suffered through so much pain at the hands of her own parents could become a motherly figure to a misunderstood little girl? well, maybe it's just because she couldn't help it.

she may have had a rough childhood, but [y/n] could just feel it in her heart that laura needed someone to show her that she mattered — that she was worth the hard journey of making it out of everything alive.

so, is it really that hard to see why she would do anything to get her safe? even go to the older, grumpy — clearly retired — wolverine for help?

"look, kid. you seem like you've got good intentions. but, i can't afford to have anymore trouble by helping you and the girl out." logan grumbles, after laura had arrived to knock out the asshole that dared try to mess shit up for him, charles, and caliban.

[y/n] sighs, trying to keep an eye on laura, who has just now begun to walk over to charles. "i can't say i don't get it. because... i do," she sympathetically states, understanding that he just wants to be left alone from all the danger that being a mutant brings.

with another sigh, she watches the young girl interact with charles with a sense of comfort, before turning back to face the older man, who's been watching her warily. "look, i know she's not my daughter — not by blood. but, i love her like she's my own. and she doesn't deserve to be hunted down and killed like a monster. she's done nothing wrong."

"so, i'm only asking you to get us somewhere safe, where we can travel away from on our own. i'll pay you whatever and however much you want. but, i'm not abandoning her — i'm going to protect her with everything i have, for as long as possible."

there's a moment of silence as he doesn't say anything. but, after realizing that his silence is his answer, [y/n] nods wordlessly, trying not to get emotional over the fact that she and laura are on their own to find somewhere safe for them to go.

"right. like i said, i get it." she mumbles, sighing.

an unexpected look of regret flashes in logan's eyes, but [y/n] doesn't see it, due to motioning for laura to come over to her.

a look of disappointment takes over the little girl's expression as [y/n] turns back to face the wolverine. "look, i'm sorry for bothering you about this. clearly... this was both a mistake and a waste of time." she murmurs as laura comes up from behind her and grabs her hand.

"and i hope these guys," she stops to point to the unconscious man still lying on the ground. "don't give you any more trouble."

he sighs and nods, still watching her warily as he begins to wonder why a human would risk so much — and her life — just to protect this little girl that he's been growing more curious about by every passing second.

he also finds her a little bit annoying, but nevertheless, it's all the same amount.

with no other words being said between them, [y/n] gives him a forced and fake smile, hoping that she doesn't make him feel guilty for not being able to help them, as she gently tugs on laura's hand to tell her that it's time for them to go.

as they walk further away, logan begins to wonder if he made a mistake — for not agreeing to help them.

after all, it's always been a first instinct and part of his nature to help and protect people. or at least, when he had been part of the x-men team.

—————

THE NEXT TIME THEY MEET, it's a few days later — after logan, charles, and caliban had been attacked by the group called alkali-transigen for the second time.

caliban had been captured by this group, while logan and charles were able to escape in logan's crappy limo-like car.

the two men had found laura and [y/n] sitting in an alley. laura was fast asleep, lying her head on the older woman's shoulder.

[y/n] shivers, tugging the tiny blanket further over laura's sleeping form as the sound of the limo pulls up near the entrance.

worried that they're found again by the cruel men that just wouldn't leave them alone, [y/n] cautiously pops open an eye, brows furrowing. she leans forward, trying to get a better look.

but, she stops suddenly as she notices logan stepping out of his car, confusion filled on his face. "logan? w—what are you doing here?"

"kid, why didn't you tell me that you guys didn't have anywhere else to go?" he asks her once he gets to the actual entrance of the alley.

she shrugs, sitting up now as she tries to ignore the cold weather. "i could tell you didn't want to be bothered. i thought it would've just been easier if i lied." she murmurs, stopping completely as laura begins to stir a bit in her sleep.

once the young girl has stopped moving in her sleep completely, [y/n] impulsively decides to move to stand up, in order to give the young girl all the room she needs.

so, within a few cautious and quiet seconds, she slowly moves herself away and moves laura to the side, before placing her jacket under her head to use as a pillow.

with a prolonged, nervous sigh, [y/n] then takes in a relieved inhale as the little girl falls right back to sleep without any further disturbance.

"you know, if i knew you guys had nowhere else to go... " logan trails off when she turns to finally face him.

with another sigh leaving her, [y/n] lightly grabs onto his arm — in which, who flinches for more than a second — before leading him over to the front of his parked car.

"look, logan. we both know that you probably would have still said no." she murmurs, making sure to keep an eye on laura every few seconds while speaking with him.

logan sighs, knowing that she is right — no matter how many times he wishes to believe otherwise.

but, there's also another part of him that knows that he would probably help her and laura in a heartbeat, if he weren't growing slowly weak every day. but, he is — it both slows him down and makes it hard for him to help them to his full potential.

he opens his mouth to say something, but charles, who'd rolled down his window from inside the car before and heard the twos' conversation, interrupts him, "logan, they need our help — we should help them."

with a small smile almost curving onto her lips, [y/n] sighs. she knows that she can't just drag him and logan into this. it just wouldn't be fair.

"no, please. it's really alright. i don't want to put you guys in this complicated situation." she murmurs, just as laura stirs again in her sleep.

charles shrugs his shoulder, as if he wouldn't mind if they got dragged into it. but, then again, he's never been one to turn down the chance to help others when they need it.

"really, guys... it's okay. laura and i will manage on our own." she murmurs as she turns to walk back over to the little girl and gently and carefully pick her up.

as she faces them and walks back over to logan with laura still in her arms, covered up in both [y/n]'s jacket and blanket, logan furrows his brows. "are you sure?"

the concern in his voice shocks her, but she waves it off as him just trying to be polite. "y—yeah. we'll be fine." she nods, gulping down her pride as she lies through her teeth, once again.

in a way, she's grateful that he'd said earlier that he couldn't help her and the girl. i mean, [y/n] is the type of person to deal with her own issues and problems by herself, instead of choosing to burden people with them — her words, not mine.

her going to logan for help was really just a moment of weakness. she was desperate — only wanting to do whatever she could to try every possibility that would protect laura and get them anywhere safe.

truthfully, the main reason why she's lying to them about really needing their help, is the fact that she feels guilty — it's already obvious that logan feels regretful that he didn't agree to help them.

and guilt-tripping them — mostly logan — that was never her intention. so, if she has to lie to make him feel better about the situation, then that's what she's going to do.

"you don't have to lie, [y/n]. there's nothing wrong with admitting when you need help." charles tells her from his side of the open window.

the young woman mentally slaps her hand to her forehead in irritation over forgetting that the extremely older man is psychic.

she stutters, hating that she can't hide the truth from them. "i... i just don't want to be a burden. and... i don't know what i'd do if either of you got seriously hurt because you guys decided to help us — everyone gets hurt when they get involved with me."

with a relentless sigh, logan simply nods to the car. "we'll figure it out, okay? just get in."

she hesitates for a moment, wondering if dragging them into this mess is really the right answer.

after all, she knows that if either of them gets hurt — in any way — because of her, she'll never forgive herself.

but, as laura recklessly jumps down from [y/n]'s arms, causing a shocked gasp to leave her, and runs over to the other door opposite of the one charles is sitting behind, she sighs.

both [y/n] and logan share a look of a tiny bit of amusement.

with a tired yawn, she shrugs her shoulder, knowing that she won't be able to change the little girl's mind now as she opens the door and slides in.

"i... guess laura would like to take you guys up on that offer. so, i'm not really in a place to say no now." she mutters as logan leads her to the front of the car.

if only they had known all the bigger trouble they'd all have to endure in the future, all because they allowed the possibility of helping them become a reality.

—————

AFTER MANY DIFFERENT NIGHTS OF passing through different towns, logan finally stops at a gas station that's in the middle of nowhere.

[y/n] follows laura over to one of the electric horses, while logan and charles stay back in the car. as she leads laura up and over the horse to sit down, [y/n] places some quarters into the machine.

"there you go," she murmurs, giving the younger girl a warm smile. "now, i'm going inside to use the bathroom. i'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"

the girl silently nods as [y/n] hesitates to leave her alone.

but, nevertheless, after realizing that, not only are they all in the clear — for now — but logan and charles will surely watch her for a few minutes, while she's in the bathroom.

with the positive thoughts swirling around in her head, [y/n] finally walks over to the door, before walking inside.

after asking the person at the front of the store where the bathroom is, he points in the direction of where it is, and [y/n] races off in that direction in a hurry as she really needs to use the bathroom.

the young woman tries to pee as fast as she can, considering that they're all still on the run and practically fugitives at this point.

then, as she walks over to the sink, she rinses off and washes her hands. but, as she sees all the blood — from the previous days of running into trouble with the group that had started all of this — dried up on both her hands, arms, and face, panic begins to quickly sink in.

to protect laura, [y/n] had to take extra precautions and do whatever she could, to do just that.

not only had she been injured, but she had also had to do two things she'd always said she'd never do — learn how to shoot guns and really any other weapons, all the while also having to take some lives.

it was self-defense, of course. but, still.

the guilt and trauma she's endured because of the fact that she's killed some people... well, it's taken too much of a toll on her.

all she kept thinking was, how can i live with myself, after all the things i've done?

she still thinks this as she tensely and harshly tries to scrub all the blood away.

[y/n] has always dealt with self-image issues and her internal hatred for herself — especially, with growing up in the toxic household that she had as a kid. but, this? it's extra new and multiplied now.

shaky breaths and unshed tears escape her as she looks up at herself in the mirror this time.

but, just before the negative thoughts can become any worse, there's a knock on the bathroom door.

[y/n]'s head snaps up in the direction of the door, more panic filling her. "just a minute!" she yells to the person on the other side of the door as she tries to scrub harder to get the blood off.

her breaths become more panicked as logan's voice speaks up from outside. "[y/n], i'm coming in."

her eyes widen in both surprise and shock. as the door slowly opens, she panics and turns around, so that she's leaning against the sink and is hiding her hands behind her back.

just as he walks inside, [y/n] lets out a shaky, "h—hey. is everyone... ready to go?"

however, logan doesn't reply to her. he only steps closer to her as he crosses his arms over his chest with confusion swirling around in his eyes. "what's going on? did something happen?"

she abruptly shakes her head, dipping her head down to avoid showing any weakness. "everything's f—fine."

"don't lie to me. what's going on?" he asks her once more, stepping even closer to her, to the point of them only being a few inches away from each other.

with a sigh of defeat, [y/n] shakily pulls her hands out from behind her back. "i... i can't get the blood off — their blood. it won't come off." she whispers shakily.

he frowns, stepping even closer to her.

the young woman's breath catches in her throat as the space between them decreases by every passing second.

though, the concerned look in his eyes scares [y/n].

as someone who's never experienced someone worrying about her and her well-being in her entire life, just the thought of someone actually taking care of her, terrifies her, to be completely honest.

they stare at each other for a long moment, before logan slowly reaches for a paper towel and moves over closer to one of the sinks and turns it on to run the paper towel through some water. then, he brings the towel back to her and starts to gently scrub her hands and arms.

within a few minutes, he has successfully gotten the blood off of her hands, arms, and face. as he throws the paper towel away, her gaze softens as he steps away from her to give her her space.

"t—thank you." she murmurs raspily, trying to act as if she hadn't let him see her in such a vulnerable state.

he simply nods hesitantly, now stuck in his thoughts.

when they had first met, he — no matter how many times he's tried to ignore it — had become just slightly curious about her.

but, now? he can't help but find himself completely consumed with the feeling of concern and curiosity over her.

after another long moment of them just looking at one another, [y/n] finally snaps herself out of her daze, shaking her head in silent embarrassment. "i... i think i'm going to find laura and get back to the car. i think i've been in here long enough, right?" she tries to crack a joke, desperately needing to change the subject.

logan nods once more, before motioning to the door as he waits for her to leave first.

once she's officially out of the bathroom and through the hall, he follows after her.

though, before either of them can actually leave the building, both adults find them watching a very shocking scene playing before them.

laura has her claws grown out of her skin, and she holds down the current worker of the small gas station, an angry look placed on her face.

"oh, god..." [y/n] trails off, sharing a similar expression with logan.

as the young girl yells out, [y/n] snaps her head towards that direction and her eyes widen in shock and surprise.

then, she races over to the two of them, and gently pulls laura away from the man. her grasp immediately falls away from the man's when [y/n]'s gentle touch connects with her body.

"laura!" she murmurs in a slight lecturing tone, though it's still gentle. "you can't do stuff like that. you can't hurt innocent people, okay? you understand me?"

after a moment, the little girl finally nods and in a matter of seconds, her claws retract back into the skin of her knuckles.

[y/n] sighs in relief, before leading her back to the car, while logan stays inside for a few more minutes.

later that night, they arrive at a hotel. both [y/n] and laura fall fast asleep the second they reach their bed.

logan, however, struggles to stay asleep.

—————

SHE WAKES UP IN THE middle of the night, breathless gasps and hyperventilating breaths leaving her.

as she continues to struggle to breathe, she notices the little girl, who’s lying beside her, is still fast asleep. 

she runs a shaky hand through her slightly knotted up and greasy hair as her heart begins to beat faster than ever and her breaths become much more panicked. 

if only she didn’t have that nightmare — of all the lives she’s taken to protect laura. it’s a relentless, repetitive terrifying dream that she has been having almost every night, ever since it happened.

with another moment of her panicking state becoming much more worse, she shakily and quietly — as much as she can — takes off her blanket and rushes off in the direction of the bathroom. 

too buried deep in her panicked thoughts and the flashbacks that the nightmare has provided for her, she doesn’t even notice the wolverine sitting in the other room that leads to the bathroom.

she only stumbles into the bathroom and quietly shuts the door. 

as she slides down the door, she doesn’t even realize that the light is still off. she’s only focused on trying to not go into full panic mode, or worse, slip off of the edge and begin to have a panic attack. 

but, it’s quite too late for that.

she’s already slipping and losing all of her control over her breathing. another painful and breathless sob leaves her lips and her head falls to lean against the door as she clenches her eyes shut. 

the tears fall carelessly down her cheeks and she cries out in frustration. god, she hates crying. it has always made her feel weak.

she shakily stands up as she quickly flicks the light switch on. but, as she looks into the mirror and sees her wrecked appearance, another shaky breath escapes her lips. 

[y/n]’s brows furrow and more tears cloud her eyes.

then, out of nowhere, she slams her hands down onto the counter repeatedly. the loathing hatred she feels for herself grows and grows by every passing second. 

more tears blur her vision, the shaky breaths still leaving her lips.

though, before she can panic even more, there’s a light knock on the other side of the door. 

“kid? everything okay in there?” logan’s voice calls out through the door and it — fortunately — snaps [y/n] out of her panicked daze. at least, for the moment. 

“w—what?” she stutters out in an answer to his question. she holds her breath as she waits for him to say what he wants to.

“are you okay?” 

the tone of concern shocks [y/n] as she chokes on her answer, “y—yeah, i’m… uh, i’m fine.” 

there’s only silence for the first few minutes. but then, suddenly, the door knob is being turned and logan is slowly entering.

he shuts the door behind him as he turns to face her with crossed arms and a look as if to say, 'i know you’re not fine'.

“i know you’re lying. why can’t you sleep?”

she stays silent, eyes falling to the floor as she leans against the counter. 

“well?” he asks, causing her to snap her head back up at him.

“it’s nothing… i—” she abruptly cuts herself off, inhaling deeply. she dips her head down in shame as she tries to calm herself down.

"i just... had another nightmare. that's all." she mumbles as she lifts her head back up to look at him.

he sighs with a nod. "do you wanna talk about it?" he asks, not being able to help but feel a little worried about her.

as she notices this look on his face, something in her brings her butterflies. [y/n] gulps nervously, before shaking her head.

despite, trusting him now — a bit more than she had before — she just can't let him in, yet. and she knows that he can understand that more than anyone else.

he nods.

silence fills the room as they stare at each other with different emotions consuming them.

while logan still feels a bit worried about her well-being, [y/n] watches him with a wary expression, trying to figure him out.

"well, um... thank you — for checking in on me. but, i promise, i'm okay," she murmurs, anxiously running a hand through her tangled-up hair. "i'm always okay."

despite, [y/n] sounding really genuine, logan doesn't believe her for a second. but, he doesn't say anything about it.

after another moment of complete silence, [y/n] clears her throat. "well... i should go back to bed." she says, nodding to the door, causing logan to snap out of his own concerned thoughts.

he nods and drops his arms from his chest, before moving to twist the doorknob and pulls the door open.

he lets her pass him as she hurries back to her and laura's bed.

though, as she lies back down and stares at the hotel room’s ceiling, a soft smile finds it's way to her lips as she remembers how concerned about her he's been acting lately.

she may not still completely trust him.

but, for him to grow concerned for her? that's quite a big development on his part.

[y/n] falls asleep with that same smile on her lips.

—————

SHE SLEEPS A LOT BETTER. so much so that she sleeps through the entirety of the next day.

the only time where she actually wakes up, is when — while logan went off to find a better car for them, since the limo's already been seriously damaged — a few men, who were sent from the psychopath that's been hunting both [y/n] and laura in the first place, showed up at the hotel room.

unfortunately, right when she does wake up, charles begins to have a seizure. it not only stops the bad men from harming laura, but it also does the same for everyone else.

the entire process is especially more harmful to [y/n], considering that she's only human, after all.

lucky for her, logan arrives soon after, taking care of some of the men, before laura assists with giving him charles' shot that's supposed to help with the seizures.

once charles has officially calmed down, [y/n] takes in a deep breath.

but, as she stands up, she loses her balance, when her legs give out, taking much more of a hit than anyone could've anticipated.

she lets out a groan as she clutches her head in pain, suddenly being hit with a wave of throbbing pain.

as she continues to struggle to deal with the pain, both laura and logan watch her in worry.

while logan turns to face charles, who wears a very regretful expression, and gives him a pointed glance, laura races over to [y/n] and silently worries about her.

as she tries to breathe through the pain, she notices the little girl's presence near her and decides to place her now sweaty hands over hers, in order to calm her down.

"it's... okay — i'm okay. i promise." her voice comes out in a croaky whisper as she begins to slowly stand up.

surprise flashes in her eyes as she notices the crazy amount of concern and worry in logan's eyes.

he steps forward to help her, but she holds up a hand, before he can get any closer.

"don't worry about me. i'm fine." she murmurs, trying to ignore the pain that is still consuming her body.

logan raises a single brow at her, challenging her to tell the truth as he notices her wince in further-more pain. "you sure about that? because you don't look like you're okay." he steps forward once more.

before she can answer him, her head throbs, once more.

it causes her to stop completely and dip her head down in pain as she presses her hand to her forehead.

"[y/n]?" he calls out as he steps closer her, the rest of the people in the room becoming much more concerned for her as she sighs shakily.

"i..." she trails off breathlessly as she begins to feel so much more light-headed and becomes a bit nauseous. "i don't understand why it's like this... "

"like what?"

"why it hurts so much..." she whispers as her legs finally give out and everything goes dark.

—————

THE MOMENT SHE WAKES, SHE notices that she's no longer inside the hotel room they were in before she'd passed out.

she begins to panic after realizing that she doesn't recognize the room she's been currently sleeping in for god knows how long.

her heart beat picks up in a fast pace as she looks around in confusion and stress.

though, before she can actually find herself in a worse panicking state, the door of the room slowly opens.

as soon as she realizes that it's logan, [y/n] sighs in relief. "thank god." she whispers to herself as he slowly shuts the door behind him, before walking over to the bed she's currently lying on.

"you alright? you know, you look really stressed right now." he asks as he sits down on the edge of the bed, eyebrows already furrowing together in concern.

she sputters once more, glancing around the room again, before turning back to face him.

"w—where are we? i don't recognize this room... and it's honestly stressing me out. especially, since the last time i was awake, it was inside the hotel room and now i'm here — where i don't recognize anything." she rambles, furrowing her brows as she tries to catch her breath from talking so much.

he chuckles in amusement, before shaking his head at her in response.

"doll, you don't need to worry or stress about that. the explanation is pretty simple," he states as she waits for him to go on.

"after you passed out from what happened in the hotel room with charles and all those men, we had to leave to ensure that that group didn't get to you and laura. so, we left and ended up helping this family and they've offered to let us stay here for the night. we'll be leaving early in the morning, alright?"

after hearing his explanation, she sighs in relief. “oh… okay. that makes sense.”

he nods, staying silent as he stares at her with an expression filled with worry and concern — something that’s become a very familiar look lately. especially, when it comes to her. 

in the past — maybe today, even — he would've told anyone that he would never fall in love again, or even, in this situation, at least, grow genuine, protective instincts and to care for another person.

and when you have the type of haunting past — like he does — it's understandable.

[y/n], sensing his eyes on her, looks up, brows furrowing.

she tilts her head to the side in confusion, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"w—what?" she stutters out nervously, quickly beginning to wonder what's going on inside of his troubled head.

logan tries his best to shake the feelings and new — for him, anyways — thoughts away. "nothing." he mumbles, clearing his throat and cutting off the new moment between them.

it's quiet for a moment, before the door opens, only to reveal both laura and charles.

once laura realizes that the older woman is now awake, relief floods to her face, before she's racing over to the bed and crushing [y/n] into a bone-tight hug.

"oof!" she lets out, trying to ignore just how tight the little girl is hugging her as she hugs her back.

after a second, she laughs in a form of appreciation — she's never felt so loved before, considering how she was treated as a growing child.

"i promise i'm okay. and i will be for a very long time — you never have to worry about losing me. okay?" she murmurs quietly, before the younger girl finally pulls away from her with a protective look shining in her eyes.

"she was quite worried for you." charles says from his place, sat in his wheelchair.

[y/n] nods, feeling guilty for making her worry as a frown takes over the place on her lips.

"and... i'm terribly sorry for putting you in that situation and putting your life in danger." he continues, his facial expression obviously filled with only regret and guilt.

the young woman's face quickly becomes confused.

"oh, charles... that wasn't your fault. and i don't blame you for it." she states in a soft voice, sending him an appreciative smile.

the wolverine scoffs, as if he doesn't quite share the same opinion as her.

his tone of voice is bitter as he speaks again, making how he feels known, "maybe you should."

[y/n] tilts her head to the side in further confusion. "what? how could this be his fault? it can't be his fault, if he can't control when it happens." she says, quickly coming to the eldest man's defense.

"i mean... you can't possibly believe that he wants to hurt anyone. and having these moments of out-of-control seizures can hurt them."

logan only rolls his eyes. "whatever." he mutters, not wanting to argue with her, before he glances towards the door.

"we should go check and see if they've finished making dinner yet." he mumbles as laura hurries to help [y/n] out of the bed.

she chuckles, before shaking her head.

"it's okay, sweetheart. i'm okay to walk." she murmurs softly as the little girl simply nods silently in understanding.

as [y/n] makes her way over to the door, limping and wincing every few seconds, logan, charles, and laura watch in clear concern, but she only ignores it.

she doesn't want to be any more of a victim — not anymore.

her only fate is to be able to protect laura and get her across the border — that's all she's going to be.

logan backs up, pulling charles with him as he keeps a good grip on the handles of the chair, while [y/n] slowly and eventually pulls the door open.

with an excited smile, she turns to them with a hand motioning towards the open doorway and backs away, in order for them to get through. "here we go!"

laura claps excitedly as logan pushes the old telepath through.

as soon as they're out and making their way into the kitchen, [y/n] and laura walk through the doorway and follow after them.

laura lets go of [y/n]'s hand as soon as she gets to her chair, practically throwing herself into it in pure excitement.

the older woman inhales nervously, becoming a little anxious about meeting these seemingly nice folks for the first time.

she lifts her hand up and into the air, giving them a small wave.

"hi. um, i'm [y/n]," she nervously says, nodding towards laura.

"i'm laura's mother." she explains further as the brunette woman laughs and waves her shyness off.

"it's so nice to officially meet you — laura's spoken so highly of you. i'm glad you're doing a lot better than before." she kindly says, nodding to an empty seat, the one next to where logan is now sitting.

[y/n] takes in a deep breath as logan still continues to watch her every move in clear worry, before she takes the seat and sends the much older woman a warm smile.

"thank you. yes, i'm doing and feeling a lot better now."

after the family says their grace, logan and [y/n] glance at one another, not even realizing how much they seem to be looking at each other.

as laura begins to eat — quite messily, too, might i add — logan steps in with a frown and a glare.

he reaches over with his hand and taps her shoulder to get her attention.

then, he gives her her fork, quickly motioning for her to use it properly.

seeing this herself, [y/n] giggles, only finding amusement in watching her.

"i'm... so sorry about laura. as you can clearly see, we're still trying to teach her how to have proper manners."

hearing the 'we' part of her statement, logan gives a gruff agreement, quickly realizing that the woman is going for the wife-and-husband-with-their-daughter cover.

though, it's quite obvious that both adults are their own versions of flushed over the idea of them actually being together — or being a couple.

the older couple simply waves it off, not being ones to judge.

after all, all families are different, right?

though, as laura starts pouring big, big loads of food onto her plate, logan has to interfere, obviously. again.

"there's plenty more, if she'd like some more." katherine offers, nodding over to the younger girl, who's now glaring and pouting at logan.

he shakes his head, mumbling that she's had more than enough.

[y/n] can't help but let a small laugh escape her.

but, after realizing how childish she must seem in the moment, her eyes widen in shock over her own impulsive action, and then clasps her hands over her mouth to keep anything else from escaping.

the famous wolverine stops frowning at laura, only to turn to look over at [y/n] with a raised brow as a response to her childishness.

she laughs again, at the look placed on his face.

after all the time they've spent together — and obviously, the feelings that have shifted between them — she can't take him seriously. not anymore, at least.

although he looks like he's just about ready to lecture her, she knows deep down that he couldn't get mad at her over something so minor.

and another part of her just hopes that maybe he feels the same about her that she feels for him and that he couldn't bear to be angry at her for that long.

logan glares at her once more, though it's more playful than anything else.

as she notices everyone watching their seemingly normal exchange, [y/n] clears her throat as her face instantly turns beat-red at the attention they're receiving.

"uh, sorry." she genuinely apologizes to katherine and her husband.

katherine laughs herself as laura and charles join in. "there's no need to apologize. i think you and james make quite the couple."

[y/n]'s face heats up, once more, at the compliment. "o—oh, thank you." she stutters nervously, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear as logan's gaze catches hers.

this time, though, their eye contact is very much different than any of the others they've shared — this one gives off both admiration and genuine care over the other.

charles, however, decides to cut the moment short, after noticing the pair of adults' undeniable connection, when he accidentally hears both of their own thoughts.

[y/n] is not only flushed on the outside, but also on the inside — she wonders anxiously if anything could ever happen between them, or if it's just her that feels this way.

and logan? well, he's trying to act like she doesn't have a single effect on him at all — he's trying to stay professional about this all and fight against how he truly feels.

a small smirk tugs at the psychic's lips, before he breaks the silence, "yes, my son and [y/n] truly do make quite a great couple — they're actually quite perfect for each other."

[y/n]'s face turns even redder — if that's even possible — while logan glares at the side of charles' face.

but, after a moment, both logan and [y/n] realize that the rest of the family — and charles and laura — are watching them carefully and closely.

"yeah, we are perfect for each other. i'm just happy to be with him and to have laura and charles — this family means everything to me." the young woman states, no lies evident in her tone of voice — she speaks the truth in her words, even if it's all just for a cover that won't be permament.

something in logan changes when he hears her truthful words, a small smile — a grateful one — appearing on his lips as he stares at only her with a gentle look in his eyes.

without another thought, he nods and says his own version of the truth, despite the fact that he hasn't wanted to get attached to either her or laura, in the first place, "you know i feel the same, sweetheart."

his tone of voice comes out gruff, but [y/n] senses the truth in it and smile at him as she places one of her hands over his.

they both fall into the moment, completely forgetting about everyone else, almost as if the entire world falls away, when it's just them.

katherine smiles at them with admiration.

"you know how i know you two are truly perfect for each other?" she asks, breaking the moment between them as they glance over at her in confusion.

"you look at each other like you're the other's world — and that's true love." she continues as [y/n] laughs nervously, before murmuring a 'thanks'.

logan watches her once more, before katherine's husband asks where they're heading after this.

he snaps himself out of his daze as both he and charles reply with completely different locations.

"uh," logan starts, but [y/n] laughs and cuts the two men off, "sorry. apparently, there's been some miscommunication!" she laughs once more, trying to make a joke out of it.

katherine laughs with her.

"are you guys going on some kind of extended-vacation?"

after a moment, [y/n] nods, choosing to just go with it. "we're going to be going to both oregon and south dakota."

charles nods along with her.

"yes, it's a very long overdue vacation," he pauses as both logan and [y/n] nod in agreement. "we're city folk — always wanted to see the country. and meet the people in it."

logan watches the exchange, noticing how comfortable both charles and [y/n] are about speaking about a vacation.

needless to say, they all deserve a vacation — away from all the complicated situations they've been in lately.

"that's lovely." katherine nods in agreement as everyone continues to eat.

"i've been trying to get will here to take a vacation for years—"

will interrupts, quickly bringing up that they'd not be able to take care of their property, if they went on vacation.

katherine replies to this by telling him they need to sell the property.

[y/n] laughs at their interaction, never before seeing an actual healthy couple before — her parents, after all, didn't have a healthy relationship at all.

they continue to argue, before their son interrupts them, "i could drop out of school!"

"let's not go that far." katherine says to him seriously as he just laughs it off.

"i mean, i'll do it."

"no."

"why not?"

something in logan's face changes as he watches the normal family exchange between them all.

his gaze goes over to laura, something changing immediately.

[y/n] notices this and smiles, hoping that he truly does care about her and laura, like she hopes he does.

"now, why would you want to do that, nate?" charles asks genuinely and [y/n] can't help it as she lets out a giggle.

"you might want to be careful with answering that question, nate. charles here, was a professor that ran a very important school." she announces in an amused tone of voice.

"a lot of years, right, charles?" logan asks, finding some entertainment in this topic of conversation, as well.

charles waves him off, trying not to make a big deal out of it.

though, just as he begins to agree politely, [y/n] begins to experience some more sharp pains in her head.

this time, though, it's much more extreme than before.

then, she's suddenly pushing back from the chair as she stands up, catching everyone's now concerned looks.

"i... i'm sorry. i think... i need to lie down — it seems that i'm still having some headaches." she murmurs in an embarrassed tone as she starts to sway slightly and her eyesight gets blurry and splotchy.

logan immediately stands up, becoming much more worried than before.

he places a hand over her back and the other on her shoulder as she begins to groan in pain — she's never felt headaches this bad before.

"i'm going to help her get back upstairs." he announces, not caring if he seems rude, his attention completely on the young woman in pain.

"yes, you should," katherine agrees, after standing up and placing her hand up to [y/n]'s forehead.

she frowns at how warm she is. "she's burning up. she really should lie down — maybe, just for a little bit, or until y'all leave tomorrow morning."

logan doesn't say anything in response. though, he understands what she's saying and is mentally agreeing himself.

[y/n] gulps guiltily, both feeling bad for all of the issues her health is causing and because she really doesn't understand why she's been in so much pain recently.

for only a moment, she leans her head against logan's chest, the sudden nausea becoming way too much for her in the moment.

logan, not quite expecting such an open and vulnerable action from her, breathes in a deep breath as he allows the physical contact. only because it's her.

"alright," he suddenly says, wrapping one of his arms around her waist and turning to face katherine.

"i'll be back to help laura and charles to bed." he states, nodding to them, who've both stopped their eating to watch [y/n] in further concern — they all know that she's only been acting like she's fine, but they didn't expect everything to get worse for her.

[y/n] barely acknowledges anything after that — the pain she feels is just too distracting for her to hear the worry in logan's voice, or to see the concern everyone in the room holds for her.

though, as logan brings her into his arms — bridal style — and walks them up the stairs, she lets out a barely containable cry.

this causes his eyebrows to furrow together in both concern and confusion. "what's wrong, doll?"

she cries again, hating how worried he is for her.

"i... i hate this... " she says through her heavy breaths that match with her small cries.

"hate what?"

"this — being so pathetic and weak of a human being that i can't even make it through the night." she mumbles, but he hears her completely, considering of how close they are.

"sweetheart—" he begins to say, knowing where this conversation is going, just as they reach the doorway of the room that she'd slept in before.

but, she interrupts him, "—no."

as her voice comes out in emotional stutters, she forces herself out of his arms as carefully as she can.

as soon as she's standing, she begins to feel light-headed again.

"[y/n]—" he says again as he notices that same sick-to-her-stomach expression on her face.

"no... i can't do this." she whispers shakily as a bunch of strands of her hair falls over her face.

though, honestly? this small little detail is something that she could care less about.

logan frowns, not sure of what she means. "what do you mean by that? can't do what?"

she lets out a slightly unhinged laugh as she shakes her head.

"i can't help laura... if i can't even survive," she mutters, taking in a deep breath as she leans against the doorway.

logan tilts his head to the side in concern for her.

he waits for her to continue, knowing that she's not going to stop until she gets what she needs to say out.

"i mean, this behavior isn't fucking normal for me! i have never had these types of issues before, when it comes to my health. this is all happening so suddenly, and i can't understand why."

"you know it could easily just be stress. you've been so worried about the kid and charles lately. i'm sure everything is fine." logan says, stepping forward to help her into the room.

she doesn't budge for a moment, not ready to accept that this is her life now.

she ducks her head down as he places a hand over her shoulder, her bottom lip quickly becoming harshly pulled in between her teeth. her eyebrows raise as tears blur her eyesight very quickly.

"c'mon. let's get you to bed, alright?" he murmurs, trying to stay patient with her, knowing that she's been going through an awful lot in the past few weeks — maybe, even longer.

i mean, logan can't know for sure how many months she's been with laura. or if she's been going through all this trauma, long before she ever met the little girl.

and it's not like he's forgotten about the guilt and anxiety she's been experiencing lately because of the people she's had to kill, in order to protect laura, who she's grown to love and see as her own daughter.

"logan... " she trails off as she finally, finally looks him in the eye with fear in her eyes for the first time ever.

"what if i can't protect her? w—what happens... if something happens to me and i can't keep her safe?" she whispers tremblingly, some of the tears escaping her eyes and sliding down to her cheeks.

normally, she'd be embarrassed to let anyone see her like this — like she's pathetic or weak.

but, this is logan.

he's been much more vulnerable than anyone she's ever known.

also, the fact that he could never judge her for being terrified when he's felt so much worse than her.

this time, though, he stops in place. he no longer tries to get her to the bed.

especially, when he sees the scared look placed on her face, and just how vulnerable she's allowing herself to be with him — even though, she'd never do that with anyone else.

"what are you saying?"

"let's just face it, logan. i'm... obviously getting sick — or something. i don't know what it is, but something is happening to me. and i don't think i'll survive it. which means... " she trails off as she takes in a deep inhale of shaky breaths, trying to accept what she's saying — she needs to make peace with it.

"which means what?" he questions her in a harsh tone of voice, obviously not liking where this conversation is heading.

"it means that i don't have long. and we've barely even gotten to where we need to be, in order for laura to cross the border. i can't help her if i'm dead, logan — you know that." she finally spits out what she's been secretly thinking.

a dark look fills his eyes as he shakes his head, jaw clenching impossibly hard.

"no. i don't know that — we don't know that. you don't know that you're going to die." his statement is spit out in a negative tone of voice, showing that he refuses to believe that it's true.

maybe, it's because he has found himself growing to care for her — way more than he ever planned to.

after all, she and laura aren't strangers to him — not anymore.

"logan, i know... t—that you don't want to hear this." she starts, still leaning against the doorway, clenching her eyes shut and taking in a deep breath at the thought of what she has to say next.

"i know how much pain and loss you've experienced. and i wish and hope that you don't have to experience it... ever again. but, we have to face the facts."

now, she opens her eyes and looks up at him again with more tears spilling.

"and the fact is... i might die. and if i do — whether that's from what my body is experiencing right now, or getting myself killed — i need you to promise me that you'll do right by laura."

he grunts, growing more frustrated and annoyed by the second.

it's obvious — and understandable — that he does not want to have this conversation right now.

or ever, actually.

"she's your daughter — whether you can accept it or not. you are her parent. maybe... even more than i am. after all, i'm just a woman who cares for her and sees her as my child — even when she isn't. but, you, logan... you are her father — you both share the same dna and pain."

he stays silent after hearing this, however.

even if he has so many things to say to her, he doesn't say it, because he knows that she has more she wants to say.

"you have a chance with her. she's not too far gone — she can be better. and you can teach her how to be. but, you have to protect her and get to that border — no matter what happens. she needs a normal and healthy life, where she isn't treated like a weapon." she says, gulping down her pride as she readies herself to say her next choice of words.

"and... of course i want nothing more than to be right there with you guys, when she gets to have the better life she deserves," she states, pausing as that life flashes in the back of her mind.

but, as it disappears, just as fast as it came, she sighs and blinks away the tears. "but, that might not happen. no matter how much i want that future, i have to accept that it might not happen. and... i need you to give her that, okay? she needs a different life than this. she is only a child — one that doesn't deserve to be hunted down like an animal and killed because they think they can't control her. she deserves better than that."

[y/n] forces a smile to her lips.

"she needs you, logan. and i need you to promise me that you'll do what i ask of you — for her sake." she finishes as more tears fall.

he's silent for a moment. but, the anger and denial is quite clear and evident on his face.

noticing this, she steps forward, despite the nausea and pounding of her head that she still feels. "loga—"

"no!" he yells suddenly as his eyes meet hers.

she jumps slightly, worry filling her as she notices the raw emotions swirling around in his eyes.

"no. we're not having this conversation, alright? you're not dying. so, stop with this damn martyr act." he tells her harshly, trying to ignore her hurt expression.

it's a few moments, filled with complete silence and tension slowly building up in the air.

though, logan doesn't care.

or maybe, that's just what he wants it to seem like as he gently grabs onto her waist and side again, silently helping her over to the bed.

they don't exchange any words as he helps her get under the covers, before walking over to the door.

though, before he can shut the door behind him and leave her to her overwhelming emotions and thoughts, she calls out to him, "logan."

he turns to face her, keeping his face stoic as he looks at her in question.

"i want her to sleep in here — just this once." she mumbles shakily, refusing to look him in the eyes.

he silently nods, before walking out and shutting the door, needing to get out of there before he suffocates in that room with her extremely hurt expression.

—————

SHE WAKES UP TO SCREAMS of terror filling the entire house.

[y/n] immediately throws her body up as she lets out a gasp, searching the dark room.

but, she knows that scream — laura.

with a protective instinct towards the little girl, the slightly weak woman stumbles out of the bed and continues to struggle to get out of the room.

once she has the door open, she races into the hall, following the sounds of laura's whimpers and screams, only to find her lying down on the floor of the room that charles had recently fallen asleep in.

"laura? what's going o—?" she starts to question, not quite seeing the full scene of the bedroom.

but, when she does, she sputters and gasps as she takes in the bloody scene before her and the robot-like man that looks way too familiar for her liking.

laura races over to [y/n], hiding behind her as the older woman continues to watch in shock and hurt as charles continues to lose more and more blood by every passing second.

"charles... " [y/n] whispers as tears fall down to her cheeks, not wanting to leave him to bleed out, but also needing to protect laura, who's shaking in fear from behind her.

"it's okay, darling. get laura somewhere safe."

"what? i—" [y/n] wants to say no, but the murderous glint in the enemy's eyes causes her to slowly back away, before turning to laura and kneeling down.

"sweetheart, go find logan. tell him what happened and you tell him to take you with him and get the hell away from here, okay?" she tells her hurriedly, ignoring the pang in her heart at the fact that this is going to be the last time they will ever see each other.

laura cries out, shaking her head and refusing to leave her as tears flood her face. "n—no. i can't leave!"

despite, not saying it, it's clear to [y/n] that what laura's trying to tell her is that she can't leave her behind.

she nods, her cries barely containable as she dips her head as she struggles with her emotions.

but, when she hears his footsteps nearing them and she glances back to see him getting closer and closer to them, she pulls herself together and pushes her away from her.

"laura, go! i'll be fine — i promise." she tells her, despite the fact that she's only lying to protect her.

as the older woman begs her to go with just her pleading eyes, laura hesitates.

but, as [y/n] stands up and turns to face the monster behind them, laura hesitates once more, before turning and running down the steps and races out the front door that's wide open.

as soon as she realizes that the girl is safe and away from the violence, [y/n] spits in his face.

"you're not touching her, you psychotic bastard!" she yells, pulling out her knife — the one she always keeps hidden in a strap she has wrapped around her waist.

he only yells angrily and slaps her to the ground.

she cries out, before she looks back up at him, noticing that he's not done with her yet.

as she winces and pushes herself back further down the hall, he pulls out a needle connected to a tube with some type of scary-looking liquid inside of it.

then, he pulls her closer to him by one of her ankles and injects it into her neck, causing her to groan through the pain, before her body quickly becomes to grow weak.

in the next few moments, all she wants to do is close her eyes. she's just so damn cold and tired.

but, as he assumes that she's about to pass out and begins walking down the stairs in search of laura, [y/n] carefully — and struggles to — get up and stumbles her way down, determined to protect laura.

just as logan walks back and closer to the house from walking around with will — and encountering some complicated trouble — he finds laura, running out of the house with a look of terror swirling around in her eyes.

she heaves in a bunch of breaths as he stops her from running past him. "hey, hey. what's going on, kid?"

she simply shakes her head hurriedly, tears beginning to cloud up in her eyes. "charles, dead. [y/n] sacrificed herself." she bluntly says with an edge of fear, still not able to say complete sentences.

"dammit!" he mutters, realizing what she means and putting it all together, before he looks back down at her with his eyebrows knitted together in worry.

"where? where exactly?" he exclaims in question, trying to not take it out on her as fear and immense concern begins to fill his entire body.

laura only points back to the house. "upstairs."

without any hesitation, logan turns to will.

"watch her for me, will you? make sure she stays safe." he tells him, who nods in agreement — though, he's a little confused too — before he races inside and makes it to the stairs.

though, what he finds before him leaves him completely and utterly speechless; blood is trailing the floor of where charles was last, and [y/n] struggles to stand as she tries to fight the man that strangely looks exactly like logan.

"stay... the hell... away from her!" the young woman yells at him, her speech slightly slurred as she struggles to stay awake, trying — and failing — to fight him off.

after all, this is a stronger and much more powerful version of the famous wovlerine.

"[y/n]!" logan yells as he sees the obvious pain she's in, along with all of the injuries she now has — thanks to that lovely injection she's just started to experience.

she becomes distracted for a moment, her terrified and worried eyes catching his.

after she heard his voice call out for her, all she could think about is that this is the last time they'll see each other.

because she knows that she can't fight this very scary version of him, and logan just has to take laura and get the hell out of here, before either of them gets captured and killed — at least, that's what she knows.

but, the evil version of logan takes this moment of distraction to get the upper-hand on her; his claws grow out of in between his knuckles and forcefully thrusts them into her stomach.

blood spurts out of her mouth as it becomes even more extremely hard for her to stay awake.

not only is she currently fighting whatever the hell that syringe was that just got jammed into her neck, but now, she's being practically impaled by the evil-logan's claws.

more blood spills from her mouth and lips as she chokes on the air, trying to fight the pain she feels over all of this — she's only human, after all.

"[y/n]!" logan yells her name again. this time, though, both anger and worry is evident in his voice.

though, something in her makes her stop fighting the other logan — she knows that she’s going to die.

that's why her gaze finds logan's, who's just about ready to kick the other him's ass for hurting her — charles as well, too, obviously.

"get h—her... out of here. now... " she sputters, more blood spurting out of her mouth.

"please... she... s—she needs you!" she yells, trying to keep the evil logan-spawn distracted for as long as possible.

though, logan shakes his head, not being able to let her go.

"no. we're going to get out of this — i'm not letting you die."

but, evil-logan could care less about this romantic exchange between them as he kicks her body back to the ground and his claws slide out of her now wounded body.

then, without another word, he walks down the steps, giving the real logan a challenging look — trying to size him up, i suppose.

[y/n]'s vision goes blurry and soon enough, her eyes slowly close.

everything goes dark as she — this time — can't stay awake anymore. her body's just too damn tired.

—————

"I'M SORRY. THERE'S NOT MUCH i can do. whatever it was that was injected into her body... it's taking effect quite fast. i can't delay it, and i can't fix it." an unfamiliar voice says, waking the injured young woman from her long, long sleep.

"what do you mean you can't fix it? you're a doctor! this is what you do — you're supposed to save lives! why can't you save her?!" that familiar angry voice that she knows so well yells in utter frustration.

there's a pause, before the stranger speaks again, "i'm sorry. if this was a normal injury, sure, i could treat it. but, it's not," he states, as an annoyed grunt comes from logan, quickly causing him to continue. "frankly, i don't know how she's survived this long — she should've died the second she was injected with that mysterious liquid. but, what i can tell you, is that she's strong."

a sigh is heard, before he speaks again, his voice now filled with pity. "all you can do right now, is enjoy your time with her and make peace with the fact that she doesn't have much time left — before she's going to die."

hearing all of this isn't new to [y/n].

she suspected something else was going on — something that could very much result in killing her.

but, hearing the heartache and pain in logan's voice brings tears to her closed eyelids.

the doctor apologizes once more, before he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.

after another moment of silence, logan talks to the younger girl in the room, "it's okay — she's going to be okay. she's strong. she'll get through this."

though, the fact that he's lying to laura, in order to keep her from breaking down, doesn't sit well with [y/n].

"don't lie to her. she doesn't need things to be sugar-coated." she croaks out as she slowly opens her eyes.

she flinches from the bright light that hangs from the ceiling, before moving to sit up.

as she looks over to them, she notices the worry displayed on both of their faces.

but, the tear-stained cheeks of laura's concerns her the most.

laura doesn't need to tell [y/n] what she's feeling because she feels it just as much.

she nods in silent agreement, before opening her arms. "i know, baby. i know. c'mere." she murmurs, tears blurring her eyesight.

the little girl lets out a breathless sob and races into the older woman's arms, hugging her so tight, as if she's afraid that if she lets go, [y/n]'s going to disappear.

[y/n] sighs in relief, happy to have the girl near her, once again — she really did think that she was going to die on the munson property.

though, thinking back on that whole entire situation, [y/n] pulls away and looks over at logan for the first time.

she turns back to laura, giving her a sad smile.

"hey, why don't you go out to the waiting room, yeah? i need to talk to logan." she murmurs, her gaze finding his again, not being able to look away from him.

laura wordlessly nods and walks out, sensing that the two adults need some time alone.

as soon as she's gone, [y/n] clears her throat as she begins to dread asking the question that's been on her mind since she woke, just seconds ago.

though, before she can quite ask what she desperately feels that she needs to, he clears his throat as he steps closer to her.

"how are you feeling?" his voice comes out gruff, but also, filled with worry and hesitation.

"logan, that doesn't matter right now." she gulps as he rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in the air in clear frustration.

"of course it does! why do you always do this?" he questions, jaw clenched as he watches her flinch.

"do what?" she asks in a meek voice, trying to ignore the pang in her heart over how much he cares about her.

he sighs, regretting how harsh he was — he's acting just like he had that night, before everything had gotten worse.

"why do you treat yourself like you're expendable?"

[y/n] slumps in defeat, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth — like she's been doing repeatedly — and knawing over it in anxious nerves.

logan crosses his arms over his chest, raising a brow at her as he waits for her to answer him.

though, it doesn't come.

she simply stays silent, not sure of how to answer him.

i mean... how do you even answer a question like that?

it's hard to explain why she acts the way she does — especially, when it's tied to how she acts with herself — when it's all she's ever known, her entire life.

[y/n] has always been hard on herself, as well as being reckless with her life.

though, when she met laura, that all changed — she knows that she has to stay alive, in order to protect her.

but, that doesn't mean that she doesn't hate herself or have really unhealthy coping mechanisms. because she does — thanks to her family, of course.

"[y/n]." logan calls out, snapping her out of her dark thoughts.

her eyes snap up to meet his, shock filling them — she'd forgotten where she was for a mere moment.

"i... i—i don't know, okay? i'm just used to being this way." she stutters, not sure she wants to have this conversation with him anymore.

finally making up her mind, she stands up from the table she'd been lying on, minutes before.

she sways a bit, catching logan's attention further-more, but she shakes it off as she starts to walk past him.

"we don't need to talk about this right now, logan. we need to get laura across that border." she states shakily, though she tries to hide it, as she almost makes it past him.

but, logan, having been too worried about her for so long, grunts annoyedly and gently grasps her arm, just as she's about to brush past him.

"we're not going anywhere, until we talk about this." he states seriously as she freezes in place at his words.

she sighs, wishing he just didn't care this much in the moment.

"why? logan, laura is the most important thing right now — not having a therapy session." she mutters, not daring to turn around and look at him, fearing that she will break down and spill everything to him, once she looks him in the eyes.

"you need to talk about this, sweetheart. if you don't, it's going to get you killed. and you can't afford that when you need to be there for laura."

she rolls her eyes, lowly scoffing.

hearing him talk about her mental health like this makes her mad.

how can he talk about this — like this — when he doesn't even believe the same for himself?

she whips around to face him, her face full of obvious irritation.

"really, logan? you really want to talk about this with me? when you can't even do the same for yourself?" she exclaims, finding it so damn aggravating that he's being such a hypocrite.

his eyes widen in shock, having not expected her to snap at him like this — she's usually so calm and collected.

if only he knew just how much she struggles with the anger issues she gets from her family.

"excuse me?" he asks incredulously, snapping himself out of his shocked state and quickly going back to his cold act.

"you heard me! you're trying to tell me to try to talk about my issues and try to see that i have a good life ahead of me, when you can't even do that yourself! you don't want to live, do you?" she exclaims, throwing her own hands up in the air.

she scoffs as a dark look takes over his face, jaw ticking as he tilts his head to the side.

"you really wanna do this right now, doll?" his voice almost comes out in a growl, while [y/n] refuses to let it scare her — she knows that he'd never hurt her, especially when he's just acting this tough, most likely to push her away.

"yes, because i don't need you to act like you care about me this much!" she spits out, not taking a moment to realize what she just said.

he barks out a laugh, tossing his head back in sarcastic disbelief.

"really? you think i don't care about you?"

her entire body goes weak at his question.

she didn't even realize she said it. but, there's no taking it back — not now.

with a relentless sigh, she bites down on her bottom lip and stays silent as she ducks her head down to hide the obvious tears that are just about to spill — she doesn't want him to see what kind of effect he has on her.

"well?" he asks again — much more harshly, might i add.

"yes." she whispers weakly, knowing that she only blurted out the truth.

because, sure, she'd hoped that he cared about her, but there's been some other side of her that kept telling her that he could care less about her and just couldn't wait to finally be rid of her and laura.

"you seriously fucking think i don't give a damn about you and you're well-being — along with the kid, too — at all?" he questions further, still not fully calmed down in the moment.

in fact, it seems that he's only getting more frustrated by every passing second.

without another word, she nods.

shame fills her at the thought of losing him, all because she couldn't keep her damn mouth shut.

that, and the fact that she's used to everyone leaving her.

though, she also feels hatred towards herself — she hates growing attached and dependent on others.

and losing logan? well, that scares her shitless.

especially, since people hurting and leaving her, is all that was ever done to her.

anytime she grows to care for someone and begins to trust them, they leave her all alone, only with the heartaching conclusion that she did something wrong to make them abandon her.

that, or she assumes there's something wrong with her that is so terrible that they couldn't stand her anymore.

something snaps inside of logan, not understanding how she could be so blind.

"if i didn't care about you, why would i be refusing to accept the fact that you're dying? or the fact that i care about you so much that i'm willing to give the kid a chance?" he asks as he steps closer to her, causing her breath to catch in her throat at how close they're getting to each other.

"logan—" she says hesitantly, starting to really regret this entire conversation, all together.

he shakes his head in frustration. "no. don't. we're going to have this conversation. whether you like it or not." he says in a dark voice, his facial expression becoming something of a mix between anger and bewilderness.

"i don't know where the fuck you got the idea that i don't care about you. because you're wrong. why would i change my mind about helping you and laura, if i didn't give a shit about you? why would i be protecting you this entire time, if i didn't care? or calm you down from a panic attack, or help you feel better about the blood that's now on your hands? or take care of you and make sure that you're safe?" he yells this time, completely frustrated at her for thinking for just one second that he doesn't care for her at all.

though, you'd think that a man like logan wouldn't admit to caring for her. especially, with everything he's been through, and all of the people he's lost.

i mean, the man has practically lost everything.

"i didn't want any of this. i just wanted to take care of charles and protect caliban and get through the time i have left, before everything would be going to shit, once again, like it always does." he says seriously, not taking notice of the tears flooding [y/n]'s eyes, or the trembling of her bottom lip.

he's far too overwhelmed with the current conversation.

though, it's barely even a conversation at this point — it's just him yelling and raising his voice at her.

"i didn't want any part of it. but, then you came into my life and i found myself wanting something more than the miserable fucking life i was living before. and along the ride, the more i got to know you and the kid, i've grown to see things differently — i saw you differently." he says, this time his voice becoming much more genuine and gentle.

[y/n] swears that her heart stops and the whole world disappears.

"w—what do you mean?"

"i mean that you've changed me. and i'm not going to fucking stand around, while you risk your life repeatedly, with no regards of the fact that we need you."

tears spill to her cheeks as her heartbeat quickens at his admission.

"we?" she asks in barely a whisper, wondering if she just misheard him.

"yes, we." he states with no hesitation, before suddenly walking all the way over to her.

he hesitates on his next actions, hoping to god that he hasn't read too much into the situation.

god, the thoughts running through his head is making him feel like a love-sick teenaged boy.

but, something changes when she looks up at him with both hopeful and shocked eyes. "logan—"

she stops herself, wondering if she's getting the right signs.

does he really want to kiss her, or is she just an idiot?

"doll, i can't fucking take it anymore. i can't be around you, without doing this before i regret it." he mutters as he brings his fingers up to her face, wiping away the tears on her face.

her eyebrows knit together in confusion as she looks up at him. "what do you mean? do what?"

"this." he simply says, placing his hands over her cheeks and then slams his lips onto hers.

a shocked sound comes from her, it now becoming a smothered breath as they both close their eyes and melt into it.

logan smiles into the kiss as [y/n] presses her body closer to his and wraps her arms around his neck.

then, as she opens her mouth just slightly to let out a content sigh, he takes the moment to bring the kiss to become more heated as their tongues meet together.

when they pull away, [y/n] places her hands over his chest as she takes a deep breath, heaving for air to get back into her lungs.

"wow. that was... " she trails off in a murmur, still very much speechless.

"yeah, i know." he mumbles, a small hint of a smile on his lips.

"did you really mean all of that? what you said?" she asks in a soft voice, after they stand in a few minutes of comfortable silence.

he nods. "yeah. i had to get through to you that i do care." he murmurs as they both pull away from each other.

after a few more minutes of silence, [y/n] asks the question she's been wanting to ask since she first woke up, "so, you gonna tell me where charles is yet?"

but, the answer she receives — along with the distraught expression that takes over logan's face — tells her all that she needs to know.

—————

SOMETHING IN HER KNEW THAT everything that'd happen the next day would end with only blood and innocent kids getting hurt.

but, she didn't question how she knew that.

she only knew that she'd die to protect laura and those kids. no matter what — even if things had shifted between her and logan and she wanted to try to stay alive for him.

maybe it was the fact that finding out about charles' death had more of an effect on her than anyone anticipated.

or the fact that the munson family had experienced so much pain and loss because of them.

really, it doesn't matter.

but, she wouldn't dare let transigen take laura or those kids and put them through more hell — she needed to put an end to that psychotic group.

the worst part was leaving logan while he was asleep.

she hadn't said goodbye — she only gave him a long lasting look with a sad smile, before leaving with the kids.

and laura had only assumed that [y/n] wanted to make sure they got across safely.

technically, that's not a lie. but, she hadn't exactly told anyone the full truth.

and she was right.

somehow transigen had found out where they were headed and ambushed them in the woods.

and of course, the young woman decided to stay behind to fight the men off — to protect the kids.

with a yell to them to 'get out of here, now', [y/n] struggled to fight the men — her pain in her body was only getting worse, thanks to the other stronger version of logan — but, succeeded in distracting them.

that was until one of them stabbed her in one of her legs and tied her to a tree while she was distracted.

and as they leave to hunt down the kids — one by one — something in [y/n] snaps.

she's never felt so much gut-wrenching pain over the thought of losing a child that was never truly hers in the first place.

but, the thought of those kids — those innocent children, who only want freedom and normalcy — being brutally murdered for being born and having the powers that they do, changes something in her.

her blood runs cold as a shiver runs through her body at the thought of finding their bodies.

scorching, hot tears spill from her eyes and she just can't help it as she lets out the loudest, most pain-filled scream.

the kids hear this, and it makes them stop for a moment.

but, this distracts them for too long as some of the men have found them and begin to capture some of them.

though, another yell — one that belongs to a very familiar, protective man — distracts some of the men and laura helps the rest of the kids break free.

[y/n], now exhausted from that one scream and the agonizing pain filling her entire body, she helplessly sobs in both emotional and physical pain. she feels so weak.

but, before she can fall further into that negative and dark mindset, a pair of heavy footsteps makes her freeze in her place.

though, as she looks up, she realizes that it's only logan.

as he kneels down in front of her, his face filled with worry for her, she lets out a cry of relief. "logan?"

he musters up a soft smile — one that's only recently been reserved for her — and tears the ropes free of her hands.

"hey, sweetheart. you didn't think you'd be doing this alone, did ya?" he asks, trying to lighten the mood as he rips off a piece of flannel off of his shirt and wraps it around her leg that's currently bleeding out.

tears find their way to her eyes again as her bottom lip trembles.

"they're going to kill them, logan." she cries out, not being able to think about anything else.

a look of both anger and worry for laura and the other kids finds its way to his face as he helps her up, before placing one of her arms over his shoulder.

"don't worry. we're going to help them."

"promise?" she asks in a whisper.

he nods as he begins to walk further into the woods, in the direction of the screaming kids.

"i promise. we're not leaving until they're safe. alright?" he tells her as she starts to walk on her own, ignoring the pain.

she nods, agreeing with him. "good. because i had the same idea." she mumbles as they get to the entrance of the field that the children are being dragged to.

ultimately, with some hesitation, the couple decides to split up.

though, logan hands her some weapons to help her, before placing a loving kiss to her temple and murmuring a 'be safe'.

then, they're both sneaking around trying to scope the area out, and trying to find an opening to get this shit done without too much blood and death.

worry and confusion fills [y/n] as logan hurries right into the middle of the field, obviously going for the confrontation approach as she finds laura.

the girl hides behind her by a tree as they both watch the scene playing out before them.

"oh, look who it is!" one of them sarcastically exclaims, before slamming the end of his gun into a boy's head, immediately knocking him out.

the doctor and logan talk; the doctor tries to play nice, while logan is just not having it.

while there's nothing much happening, [y/n] kneels down and faces laura.

"you think you can go to your friends without getting caught? i gotta help logan get the bad guys, okay?"

laura nods, silent worry evident on her face, but she doesn't say anything as she sneaks back towards the nearest vehicle, which is where the rest of the other kids are being held by.

[y/n] takes a deep breath as she begins to sneak closer, making sure if a fight happens, she'll be able to step in — even if she is only human.

but then, suddenly, logan shoots both donald and the doctor in pure anger.

donald yells in pain, holding his now destroyed hand and runs over to one of the other vehicles closest to him.

the fighting starts as laura attacks some of the men, near the rest of the children.

one of the other kids being held uses their powers to electrecute the men sitting inside the vehicle.

[y/n] takes the moment to step forward and shoot two of the men in the head, shocking the kids.

then, she turns to laura. "get you and your friends out of here. logan and i will handle the rest."

laura wordlessly nods as she helps the kids get up and get out of their handcuffs.

but, as logan follows the asshole that no longer has a hand anymore, the other version of the wolverine — the evil one — appears behind one of the doors of the vehicle and shoves him back with pure rage.

"logan!" [y/n] yells, stepping forward in distress as she completely forgets about the kids that are getting ready to run.

the two wolverines continue to fight each other — the evil version having more of an upper-hand.

laura takes out the rest of the men as [y/n] steps forward when the evil wolverine stabs logan in the back and throws him into the air, far away from him.

something dark swirls around in her gut — some of it is just her being protective of logan, and the other is something that she's never felt before in her entire life.

"get the hell away from him, you fucking piece of shit!" she screams as she steps in front of logan protectively and starts shooting her gun.

this, though — no matter how many times or where she shoots her gun at him — only makes him more angry.

becoming a little nervous, [y/n] backs up as she pulls out one of her daggers.

just as he gets close enough to her to hurt her, she thrusts the weapon into his side.

but, this has no effect on him as he shoves his claws into her gut — repeating history.

a shocked gasp leaves her as she tries to keep the whimpers of pain shoved deep inside of her.

logan growls as he watches the evil version of him find satisfaction in hurting her.

then, as he stands up, [y/n] slowly backs up — despite all of the pain she feels — as the claws pull themselves out of her stomach.

the evil wolverine prepares to strike her again, but logan isn't about to let that happen; he rushes forward and shoves her behind him as he uses all of his strength to throw the much more powerful monster away from them.

then, he grabs a broken door off of the ground and tries to take out his head from his neck with it.

but, it doesn't help that when the monstrous version of logan sees the doctor dead on the ground.

there's also donald deciding to motivate him by telling him that logan killed him — this obviously brings him to fight back against logan and shove him and the door to the ground.

he growls angrily as [y/n] runs over to help logan get up.

but, then, donald shoots a graveling hook into one of logan's legs.

[y/n] yells out in pure irritation as she turns to shoot him in the head.

he lets out a shocked breath as he falls to the ground.

[y/n]'s not sure if that killed him or not, but at least he'll be done for — at least, for a few minutes.

while both [y/n] and laura are busy trying to fight different people, logan angrily rips the hook out of his leg, yelling in beyond-imaginable pain.

more of the kids appear to drown donald in the nature of the grass, which eventually kills him.

as the evil wolverine goes for laura, logan and [y/n] share a look, before she's running to get the little girl to stay behind her, while logan stays to fight the other version of him.

"stay behind me, okay? this isn't your fight."

laura — for the first time in a while — sends her mother-figure a terrified look.

[y/n] sighs regretfully. "it's okay. he's not going to touch you." she says, before facing the evil logan before them.

as she notices that the kid that donald had with him, is trying to lift up a heavy truck near them, [y/n] grabs laura's hand and shoves her in logan's direction.

"you guys need to get out of here."

"no! not without you!" laura yells, tears filling her eyes as logan pulls her close and hesitantly keeps her behind him.

[y/n] gulps down her pride as she allows a few tears to escape. "i know. but, you have to. logan will protect you — i promise. but, you have to go. now!" she yells, before the monster in front of them comes to notice them all very quickly.

laura hesitates, but stays with logan.

"sweetheart—" logan begins to say, but [y/n] refuses to look him in the eyes as she steps forward and tries to fight off the evil version of him — she can't look him in the eyes as she realizes that there's only one way this is going to end.

and if it's going to be up to her, she'll do just about anything to make sure he and laura — and the other kids that remain — get out of there safely, and alive.

as she fights the monster once more, [y/n] yells to the real logan, not turning to look at him, "get yourselves out of here! i didn't survive all of this, just for you to die on my watch. go!"

the pain in her body becomes even much more hard to bear as she pushes the evil logan back, just as the other kid is able to make it so that the truck lands directly on top of him.

with a sigh of relief, logan and laura start walking towards [y/n], but, she's not willing to risk that monster surviving this and killing them and everyone else.

"no! you guys have to go!"

but, it's too late.

just as she turns back to face the vehicle, one side lifts itself up, before falling back down — he's still alive.

the thought of having to watch them die brings back the searing, hot tears as she runs over to them and pushes them further away.

"go, please!" she cries out, needing to do anything to keep them safe.

the evil wolverine eventually escapes from under the truck and when he's standing — quite angrily and vengeful, might i add — he runs straight for her.

though, instead of running in the other direction, [y/n] clutches her dagger and runs straight at him.

once she reaches him, she swallows down her fear and slams the tip of the dagger straight into the side of his head as she kicks him back, his back hitting the edge of one of the many vehicles.

this only makes him more angry, though; in a fit of more intensified rage, he slams his claws into her stomach — for the second time that day — before dragging her to a broken stump with sharp edges surrounding it.

as body meets sharpness and wood, laura screams out as the blood spurts out of [y/n]'s lips.

she chokes as she struggles to breath — even more so, this time — body wracking with breathless sobs.

her eyes meet logan's.

his face is utterly torn. tears — something he never has let happen in a very long, long time — have spilled to his cheeks.

"p—please... " she cries out in between the blood that's repeatedly falling from her lips and the struggle to breathe as the evil logan mercilessly shoves her back against the sharp edges of wood, before stabbing her with his claws once, twice...

"g—get her out... of h—here!" she finishes, just before laura has had enough and snaps, grabbing one of the guns off of the ground and shoots the monster straight in the head.

this destroys half of his face, before he limply falls to the ground, unmoving.

both logan and laura run over to [y/n] as she lets out a choked sigh of relief, grateful that she doesn't have to endure any more new injuries.

though, she's still growing more and more weak by every passing second.

the little girl sobs loudly as she drops the gun to the ground beside them.

without another thought, she lies her head on [y/n]'s chest.

she moves her very shaky hand up to hold laura's as she tries to stay awake — just for a bit longer.

her breaths become much more hollow as logan falls to his knees, right in front of her, on the other side of her.

his face is filled with so many different emotions; love, fear, guilt, worry.

"you know... m—meeting you, james," she pauses, gulping in pain as she tries to find the words she needs to say before it's too late, while logan's heart almost stops beating at the realization that she just called him by his real name.

"it... was the best thing that ever happened to me... " she trails off as an extremely pain-filled cough with more blood falling from her lips escapes her.

laura cries once more, not wanting to lose the woman who's only ever protected and loved her, despite all the bad things she was forced to do.

"don't go... " she lets out as her tears fall onto [y/n]'s weaker-by-the-minute-body.

[y/n] chokes on her own cries as she clutches the little girl's hand in a tighter grasp.

"i—i'm so sorry." she cries out as her heart pangs at what her possible death is doing to both laura and logan.

he clenches his jaw angrily as he bites down on his bottom lip in frustration.

"why didn't you just let me take care of this?" he asks in a tight tone of voice, trying to ignore the extra tears swirling around in his eyes.

she gives him a sad smile, her heart breaking completely. "because... it had to be me." she croaks out as another coughing fit begins to escape her.

"and because i... i couldn't lose you guys... because i—i love you," she whispers, starting to hate the fact that right when the three of them had just started to feel like a real family, something like this tears them apart — forever.

"b—both of you." she finishes, more blood trailing around her lips and sliding down to her chin.

hearing those words leave her lips allows logan to feel so much pain that the tears finally spill.

he ducks his head down, trying to hide his emotions.

[y/n] frowns as she notices this.

"it's... okay. i wouldn't have this any other way," she states as she cups his cheek with her other bloody hand. "dying for the man i love, and... the little girl that's become like my d—daughter? it... s—sounds kinda like a pe—perfect ending to a great story." she murmurs, trying to hide how much she wishes to just stay with them.

but, on another hand, she's also made peace with it — that she's going to die.

because — deep down — despite how much she didn't want to accept it, she knew that sacrificing herself for the people she loves dearly, is the only way she wanted to go out.

"logan... " she coughs, once more, as her breaths becomes much more shallow — death is almost about to knock on her door.

he looks at her, waiting for her to tell him what she needs to.

"p—please... be happy. don't... d—don't let my death be the end of the happiness and the good life you both deserve."

as those words sink into his head, he desperately wants to tell her that there is no happiness or life without her — she's become like home to him.

for the first time, in a very long time, he's grown to want the life he's tried to avoid having — he's been punishing himself for so long that meeting her was the one exception to actually wanting that life. but, with her.

but, before he can say anything — and tell her this — she turns to laura, who hasn’t pulled away from her as she tries to desperately wipe away her tears.

"laur, baby, everything's going to be alright, okay? i know that you're scared. and you have every r—right to... to be. but, logan's gonna protect you and take care of you, o—okay?" she murmurs in stutters, trying to hold on for as long as she can, starting to feel how slow her heart is beating now.

laura cries harder as [y/n] takes one deep breath. "do—don't... don't be the m—monster they made... made you i—into — be b—better." she whispers as her breaths slows now.

before the last beat of her heart hits her body, she sighs with a content, happy smile, despite dying so fast. "take care of e—each o—other... for m—me, o—okay?"

then, as that last beat hits her body and heart, the light slowly leaves her eyes and her face begins to relax as both of her hands drop to the ground, limp and unmoving.

"no!" laura yells in anger and fear as the emotions quickly escape her, now realizing that she's gone.

logan, not being able to handle his own grief, stands up and walks over to laura, without saying anything as he kneels down beside her.

laura jumps into his arms and lets everything out.

they both stand there for god knows how long, only drowning in their grief, with the other kids standing behind them, feeling pity and sympathy for them.

[y/n] may have only known them for a small amount of time, but still, she made an impression on them, for the better.

[jazzycurls]

You belong to me - part 4.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: It's a surprise 😉🤫

Warnings/Tags: 18+ minors dni! Cheating, angst, hurt & comfort, smut, mentions of stalking and pregnancy (let me know if I missed something)

An: Hi, you guys! I guess I'm not new to writing anymore, but I'm still a newbie. All feedback is welcome. Be gentle please haha. Please do not steal or copy my work. Don’t repost without credit. This is my written work, everything besides the characters and plot points by the original writers, belongs to me. Love you guys, and thank you so much for the support, hope you enjoy ❤

Word Count: 6,306

It's been exactly four weeks and two days since you last spoke to Eddie. Ever since that day you saw him and Chrissy together, you vowed to never let him hurt you again. It was tough going to school and dealing with all the rumors swirling around you, Eddie, and Chrissy.

Most people had called you a slut, others said Eddie was the slut who had corrupted you in some way and a few people said it was a hoax, unwilling to believe that Eddie The Freak Munson was able to date two women at once. You ignored the rumors, choosing to focus on your schoolwork so you could graduate and get the hell out of this town.

Clara was there beside you through it all and helped you brave the storm. You were forever grateful for her friendship, people like her are hard to come by and should always be cherished. You vowed to repay her as soon as you got the chance.

Eddie had tried his best to talk to you afterward. He had tried everything from following you around at school, showing up at your house, and calling you every night but you shot him down every time. The blinders were off and you wouldn't allow yourself to be fooled by him any longer.

You still loved Eddie but not enough to sacrifice your happiness. You vowed that you would never do that after witnessing the destruction of your parent's marriage. Your mother had spent many nights crying herself to sleep and now was a shell of who she used to be, throwing herself into her work to avoid her harsh reality.

They say that the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree because here you were, on your way to your new job at Family Video. You'd had the great idea to get a job to help keep you preoccupied. You've been working there for officially two weeks now and you loved it. It's a laid-back job with decent pay plus your co-workers were awesome.

You pull into the parking lot and park your car. As you make your way into the store the hairs on the back of your neck began to stand on end. You stop in your tracks as you look around the lot cautiously, heading into the store when you don't see anything strange. For the past few weeks, you kept having the strangest feeling that you were being followed. With Hawkins being notorious for people going missing and all of the strange occurrences, it was always best to be on guard in a town like this one.

"Hi, Y/n," your coworkers Robin and Steve echoed in union.

You raised a brow at them as you entered the store and went behind the sales desk. "Oookay, that wasn't creepy at all," you laughed as you placed your bag under the counter.

"What do you mean," they both asked in confusion.

"Okay, seriously guys, this is weird," you stated, getting slightly creeped out. With the weird feeling of eyes watching you at random times of the day, it didn't take much to put you on edge nowadays.

"Sorry Y/n, it was Steve's idea," Robin laughed, hugging you.

"Hey, not true! Don't believe her Y/n," he tells you as he hugs you as well. The bell on the door chimes, signaling the arrival of a customer as you are wrapped up in his arms.

You turn your head to see Eddie headed your way with his eyes trained on you. Steve lets you go to help Eddie as he places his items on the counter. His eyes are dark, nearly the color of coals as he glares at Steve.

"Harrington," he sniffs before turning to Robin with a bright smile. "Hey Robbie," he grins.

"Munson, if you call me that name one more time, I'm going to jam your precious guitar up your ass!"

Eddie throws his hands up in mock surrender "Yes ma'am," he replies jokingly. His gaze finally settles on yours "Hello Y/n," he whispers, his eyes soft and shining with emotion.

"Hi, Eddie." Your voice is monotone and your expression is indifferent, a severe contrast to the emotions raging inside of you.

Sensing the awkward atmosphere between you two, Steve steps in and picks up the movies Eddie placed on the counter. He taps a few keys onto the register and scans the barcode on the back of the tapes. "Alright Munson, it says here that you have an overdue late fee of $6.18 on your account. Would you like to make a payment today?"

Eddie begrudgingly looks away from you and turns toward Steve. He digs into the pocket of his jeans, pulls out a wrinkled ten-dollar bill, and hands it to Steve. Unable to stand the tension building, you busy yourself by going over to the romance section to organize the shelf.

Minutes go by, and you hear the soft footsteps of someone walking up behind you. You look over to find Eddie standing there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. You stand up and move to leave before he stops you.

"Wait Y/n, can we talk? Please!" he begs, his hands stretched out towards you blocking your exit.

You sigh deeply and shake your head, feeling your resolve break. "You have a minute," you relent, crossing your arms as you wait.

"Baby, what happened before," he begins, as he takes a step towards you. You take a step back, holding your hand up between you two.

"Sorry," he mutters sadly before continuing. "What you saw with me and Chrissy, it wasn't what it looked like. I was about to tell her that it was over between her and me when she —," he trailed off unable to continue. He couldn't tell you about the upside down. It could put you in danger and that was something he refused to allow to happen.

You lifted a brow expectantly as you waited for him to continue. Your patience was starting to wane thin.

"Um, she said that she um— that she needed me," he responded weakly. It sounded unbelievable even to his own ears. He sees your face drops back into a cold stare and his chest tightens in fear when he realizes how bad he's fucking this up right now.

"You have to believe me Y/n. It's just for a little while and this doesn't mean that I'm with her because it doesn't and I promise you she knows that." His words are rushed and awkward as he tries to convince you that his words are true.

"Times up Eddie." You turn to walk away and he grabs your hand quickly.

"Y/n wait, I'm telling the truth. I just need you to wait for me, please, at least until I sort everything out." His plea is desperate as he holds your hand close to his heart.

"Why should I Eddie? You haven't been honest with me not once this entire time! You won! You got what you wanted so just leave me the fuck alone." Your voice rises out of anger, causing Robin and Steve to throw concerned glances in your direction. You let out slow deep breaths as you attempt to reel your emotions back in.

Shock is evident on Eddie's face, which soon gives way to anger. If he was honest with himself he's never done well with confrontation. With his father mentally and physically abusing him throughout his childhood, he's developed a sort of defense mechanism, which makes him run away when he feels threatened. The hurt that he feels because you don't trust him makes him angry, not knowing how to properly deal with his emotions. He feels that he's been nothing but honest with you this entire time. If there was anything he left out it was for your safety, not so he could try and fuck you over.

"You know what, fuck this," Eddie grunts, as his feelings get the better of him. "You don't have to believe me." As the words leave his lips his heart breaks and regrets already spreading through him as he turns away from you, storming out of the store.

You want to call out to him, tell him that you were sorry for going off. You're not a confrontational person, so your reaction just now took you by surprise. Bile rises in your throat as you watch Eddie leave. You turn and run to the employee's lounge, slamming the door shut as you hurl your lunch into the toilet. Your fingers grip the wall tightly and you begin to dry heave once there is nothing left. Once your stomach settles you drop down onto the tiled floor, trying to catch your breath.

A few minutes go by when you hear a knock on the door. "Y/n, is everything okay?" Robin asks you from the other side.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute." Your voice sounds weak as you answer her. You rise to stand and go to wash your hands. Once you're done you splash cold water on your flushed face. 'What the fuck.'  You wonder as you gaze at your reflection in the mirror. Was this whole situation so stressful that it was making you sick? Or was it the thought of things finally being over with Eddie that made you ill?

You honestly didn't know but you refused to dwell over it any longer. Taking a deep breath you opened the door with a fake smile plastered on your face.

"You okay," Robin asks when you appear back at the counter.

"No, but I will be," you reply with a strained smile but you're not convinced you will be.

Steve takes in your appearance noting how squeamish you look, a stark contrast to how you were when you first arrived. "Hey Y/n, if you're not feeling well you can leave early if you want. I think Robbie and I can manage," he says earning a smack on the back of his head from Robin.

"Yeah, I think that's for the best," you say, laughing in response to their antics. You begin to pack up your things and give them both a hug before making your departure.

The fresh air of the evening does little to settle your stomach and the nagging thought of something you had forgotten in the back of your mind. You make a pit stop at the local mart, unaware of the eyes watching your every step.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

You sat on your bed with Clara, your fingers gripping the unopened pink box tightly. She listened intently as you told her the events of what happened a few days ago with Eddie. Her features shift with each detail you relay. Shock settles over her face once you end with the purchase you had made due to the absence of your period.

"Why haven't you taken it yet," she questions as she clasped your hand in yours. You blinked your eyes, trying desperately to stave off the tears threatening to escape.

"I'm scared," you admitted. "If I take this test, then it becomes real and then I'll have no choice but to deal with it." Your hands shake nervously, causing the box to fall onto the floor.

Clara bent down and picked up the box, pressing it back into your hands. "Y/n, this isn't something you can ignore. The longer you put it off the fewer options you'll have."

"I know, but what if it's positive? Things between Eddie and me are horrible right now. A baby will only complicate things even more." A few tears skip down your cheeks as your emotions began to overwhelm you.

"Whatever happens I'll be here for you okay? I'll even beat Eddie up for you if you want," she says, pulling you into a tight hug.

You laugh along with her as you hug her back. "I'll keep that in mind," you snicker as you get up from the bed, making your way into the bathroom. You close the door behind you and lean up against it. You take calming breaths as you read the instructions on the back of the box.

'Okay, remove cap and place tip into urine stream for five seconds. Replace cap, lay it flat, and wait for results, should be ready within five minutes. Seems easy enough,' you thought silently.

You will your hands to stop shaking as you unwrap the package and begin to follow the instructions listed on the box. Once finished you lay the test flat on the counter and began to wait. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slow and you become all too aware of the silence in the bathroom. The walls felt as if they were closing in on you with each minute that passed.

Your timer beeps on your watch, signaling that the test result was ready. Turning back towards the counter you eye the test warily. You could feel a trickle of sweat running along your spine as you start to perspire. 'This is crazy. Just pick it up and read it. It's not a big deal, it's not like this is going to change your life from this point in every single way.'

Exasperated, you sink down onto the edge of the tub. "Clara" you called out through the closed door.

"Yes!" She replied immediately, busting through the door.

You gesture towards the test on the counter. "I can't look," you said softly, letting your head fall into your hands. You stare at the patterns on the tile floor as you listen to her pick up the test.

A soft gasp fell from her lips making your blood run cold. "It's positive," she murmurs as she crouches down in front of you.

"Of course it's positive, I've never failed a test before. Guess I'm not going to start now huh." You laugh bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Y/n, it's going to be okay. Whatever you decide to do, it's going to be okay." She laid her hand on yours as you sat there in silence. "Are you going to tell Eddie," she asked.

"I don't know if I should. I mean, what would even be the point of that anyways? I don't want a pity relationship because he made the mistake of knocking me up." Your words come out heated and rushed as your anger washes over you.

"He deserves to know Y/n. Don't keep it from him because you're scared of what his response may be. You never know, maybe he'll step up, maybe he won't but you'll never know if you don't give him a chance." Clara's voice was firm and sure as she held your gaze.

"You're right, I'll tell him," you huff out a moment later.

She gives you a small smile before standing up and pulling you up along with her. "Fuck! Squatting like that made my legs hurt," she complained trying to shake the pins and needles feeling out of her legs. "I guess I'm getting too old for that now. Welp, no more blowjobs for Steve then," she jokes, crouching over and holding her back dramatically.

"Yeah right, I'll believe that when pigs fly," you laugh snorting obnoxiously as you follow her back into your room.

"You calling me a slut," Clara growls, her hand inching towards the pillows on your bed.

"Uh yeah. You and Steve are biggest the horndogs I've ever met," you retort grinning cheekily.

"You're gonna regret that Y/l/n," she yells, smacking you in the face with a pillow. You stand there for a moment in shock before springing into action, grabbing a pillow for your counterattack. Peels of laughter sound off in the room along with thumps from the pillow fight, giving you a welcome reprieve from the tough decisions sure to come.

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Eddie sat perched atop his throne in the old theatre room, which was also their meeting place for all of their D&D campaigns. Drumming his fingers against the chipped wooden table, his patience began to wear thin as he waited for everyone to sit down and get situated. After a minute had passed, everyone was still talking animatedly to each other. 

"Can we hurry this along please!" he yelled out, causing the room to go silent as all eyes snapped onto him. "Thank you," he said once he had everyone's attention. He had called an emergency meeting weeks ago as soon as Chrissy had told him her dreams had returned. Due to conflicts of schedule and the matter of long distance for some, it had taken a while to get everyone back together again.

"What's going on Eddie? Why are we all here," asked Dustin.

"Vecna's back," Eddie replied somberly, getting straight to the point. A few gasps of panic flew across the room at his announcement.

"Are you sure? I mean— how do you know, what happened?" Nancy questioned, her eyes flickering with concern.

Eddie began to explain what Chrissy had told him that day, omitting the part with you in it. He didn't need everyone to know about his relationship with you when he was still trying to fix the damage he'd caused.

"So why isn't she here if she's so scared that he's after her?" Max's voice was low and her expression held a look of skepticism. Something about this situation seemed off to her but she didn't want to jump to conclusions just yet.

"She had cheerleading practice," Eddie replied rubbing a hand across his face tiredly. Between Chrissy hanging onto him like a leech every chance she got and you avoiding him like a leper, he felt as if he was losing his mind. He hadn't had a proper sleep in weeks and it was beginning to show. His eyes were dull, sporting dark heavy-looking bags underneath each one.

Murmurs echo around the room at his response. "I'm sorry man but I call bullshit. I've seen Chrissy around town and she didn't look scared to me," said Steve.

"Why would she lie then huh? If you have an idea, then by all means please share it because I don't have a clue!" Eddies hands grip the arms of his chair as he struggles to regain control over his emotions.

"Are you okay Eddie?" Robin asked. She had never seen Eddie like this before and it was starting to scare her a little. After witnessing the scene between Eddie and you, she had the sinking feeling that this all had something to do with one another.

"Yeah— I'm fine, just a little tired is all. Now, can we please get back to the matter at hand?" Eddie hated being so dismissive toward his friend but he wanted to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.

"Well, I haven't felt anything from him. Honestly, I thought he was dead. I haven't felt this peaceful in a long time," Will replied in a soft voice.

"Me too," Max confirmed as others began to echo in agreeance.

"I think that settles it, dude. It sounds like Chrissy lied to you," Dustin said softly so only Eddie could hear him.

"I think you're right and I'm going to find out why." Eddies features were stony and everyone could see the shift in his demeanor. He adjourned the meeting, thanking everyone for coming and apologizing on Chrissy's behalf.

Before he left the room he tapped Robin on the shoulder, pulling her from her conversation with Steve. "Hey, I just wanted to apologize about earlier. I haven't been—, he started but Robin cut him off with a  wave of her hand.

"Don't worry about it. There are no hard feelings okay? Just go handle whatever it is you need to with Chrissy. To be honest Eddie, I never liked her anyways," she tells him with a smirk.

Eddie gives her a quick hug before taking his leave. He was on a mission as he made his way hastily to the gym, determined to catch Chrissy before she left. He wanted an explanation as to why she had lied and he wasn't going to leave until she gave him one.

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Chrissy's friend Alice stood to the side of the bleachers anxiously. The loud voices of Chrissy and Eddie rang out sharply throughout the gym. Standing in the shadows, she wasn't trying to be seen until the time was right.

The words lying bitch could be heard clearly throughout the room followed by a resounding slap. Chrissy stormed by quickly tears streaming down her face. She passed by quickly, not seeing Alice standing in the corner. Once the double doors had closed, Alice stepped from behind the bleachers into the light. Eddie stood close by with his head hanging down, his hair hiding his face. She cleared her throat lightly, gaining Eddie's attention immediately.

"Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of me!" He yelped, holding a hand over his chest. His heartbeat was erratic as he took a deep breath to calm down before he had a premature death. "What do you want," he asked warily after he had regained control of his breathing. He knew you only through Chrissy and had never spoken to you alone before. If he was a betting man, he would bet that Chrissy didn't know you were here, especially right after the fight they'd just had.

"Chrissy doesn't know that I'm here," she said confirming his suspicions as she looked over her shoulder cautiously. Eddie nodded in response and she continued, wanting to get this over as soon as possible. She didn’t want Chrissy to find out about what she was about to do.

"Chrissy's been lying to you, Eddie. She's been seeing Jason behind your back the entire time you two were together," she whispered.

When Chrissy told her that she and Eddie didn't have sex, she was in disbelief. The reason why became even more obvious when she caught them hooking up in Jason's car during school once. Jason had later told her with a smug look on his face that he and Chrissy had always maintained a sexual relationship even after she had gotten with 'The Freak'.

When she confronted Chrissy, she only shrugged with a coy smile, "I get what I need from Jason and Eddie, what's the big deal?"

Alice had told her that it wasn't right but Chrissy didn't want to listen to reason, only warning her to stay out of it before flouncing away, her ponytail bouncing perkily behind her.

"Wow, I mean what the fuck. I know I have no room to talk but for her to pretend to be so innocent when she's just as bad is fucking insane." Eddie's eyes were big as he ran his hands through his hair.

He had tried before to initiate a sexual relationship with Chrissy but she had told him she wanted to wait until marriage. He had accepted her decision, not wanting to pressure her into something she didn't want but he couldn't deny that the thought of why things were the way they were didn't cross his mind at times. Boys tended to talk and he knew that she wasn't a virgin because of Jason, so the new information just revealed to him, answered the questions he's had for a long time.

"Thanks for telling me," he said finally, looking over to Clara. "I know that couldn't have been easy."

"You're welcome, Eddie. I know I can be a bitch sometimes but I like to think that I'm still a good person," she said as she began to walk away. Before reaching the doors, she turned around to look over her shoulder at him. "Eddie be careful with Chrissy. She's not the same anymore and I'm afraid of what she may do if things don't go her way."

He nodded in response and watched as she walked through the doors, her ominous warning of Chrissy repeating over and over in his head.

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You're lost in your thoughts as you walk along the crowded hallways. You had spent the entire weekend trying to figure out how to tell Eddie you were pregnant. The last time you talked, it ended horribly and you were kinda ashamed to have to approach him again so soon. You were sure that after how you treated him, he didn't want to speak to you again.

As you neared your classroom a hand snatched you into a nearby closet, closing the door briskly behind you. "What the hell," you shrieked before a hand clasped over your mouth keeping you silent.

"Shhh Y/n, it's just me," Eddie whispered as he clicked on the overhead light.

You snatch his hand from your mouth, looking upward at him. "I knew that Eddie. You are literally the only person who snatches me into closets at random."

"Yeah, you're right," he says laughing awkwardly. He rubs the back of his neck as he takes a moment to look at you. It feels as if he hasn't gotten a chance to really look at you in forever. His heart flutters nervously as you stare back into his eyes. The speech he had prepared, long forgotten at the sight of you.

You were also experiencing something similar as you began to malfunction at being in such close proximity with Eddie. An apology sits at the top of your tongue for the way you treated him before but you quickly swallow it back down as quickly as it comes. "What do you want," you question once you finally begin to settle from the mental Olympics your mind is going through.

"I wanted to talk to you. I know that our last conversation didn't end well and I want to apologize to you." He takes a deep breath in an attempt to settle his nerves before continuing.

"I let my emotions get the best of me and I reacted poorly. I know that you're probably getting tired of me apologizing and I promise to do better— I want to be better for you. Whenever I'm with you, I feel better about myself. Even though we haven't had the chance to be together, I'm sure of how I feel about you. You don't have to worry about me and Chrissy anymore because I've handled that situation and it's completely over, I promise you. So please Y/n, please take a chance on me and I promise I won't let you down again ever." His eyes are big and wet as he looks down at you pleadingly.

You lean back up against the door as you consider his words. The fierceness in his eyes is endearing, making you want to believe him this time, but there is still a nagging thought in the back of your mind. You still feel that there is something that Eddie isn't telling you. Until you know the real reason he broke his promise and chose to stay with Chrissy, you can't forgive him just yet. "I want to trust you Eddie but for me to do that, you have to be completely honest with me. I don't want to start a relationship on a half-truth."

Something akin to fear flashes across Eddie's face before disappearing quickly. His features relax again as he takes your hands into his hesitantly, pulling you in closer. "Y/n— there's a lot of things that's happened in Hawkins in the past couple of years. A lot of things have been kept from the public for safety reasons," he pauses to make sure that you are still following him. "I'll tell you everything but I need you to keep an open mind okay? I know that what I tell you may be hard to believe but just trust me okay?"

You nod your head slowly as your heart begins to race. You're not sure what it is he is about to tell you but you have the feeling that it will change everything moving forward. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, the tardy bell rings announcing that you both are late for class.

"Fuck! Can you follow me to my house after school?" He says hopefully, resting his hand on the doorknob behind you.

"Yeah," you reply breathlessly as he leans in closer to you, resting his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter close as his nose brushes against yours, his breath is warm as it fans across your face pleasantly.

The sound of the second bell rings and the moment is gone. Disappointment is clear on both of your faces as he pulls back, giving you room to move away from the door. "Later?" His eyes are bright, filled with hope and longing.

"Later," you smile squeezing his hand gently before slipping through the door. Eddie waits a second before taking his leave as well. His smile is big and wide as he walks into class, even after his teacher tears him a new one for being late once again, his smile never fades.

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You rush out of class once the final bell rings and you head to the parking lot, eager to meet Eddie as planned. After you have your talk with Eddie, you'll have to go straight to work, so you're grateful that you were able to get the car from your mom this morning. You spot Eddie in the crowded lot once you make it to your car. He gives you an excited wave and you wave back with a shy smile.

You both enter your cars and you began to follow him as he leaves the school. As you're driving out of the lot you pass by Chrissy standing near her car. She stares at you with a blank expression as you pass by. Your eyes meet and you hold her gaze before looking away to safely follow the traffic.

"Crazy bitch," you mutter under your breath. You shake it off mentally, you refuse to let her ruin the good mood you were in. You're anxious about what Eddie is going to tell you. Optimism is flowing through you and you can feel your walls lowering for what could be. You hope that he'll be receptive to the news you have for him as well.

Your hands begin to shake as your mind wanders at what his reaction will be. You had planned on telling him today but you're not sure you'll have time after he reveals whatever the secret is he's been holding in.

Before you know it you are pulling into the trailer park behind Eddie. You follow closely as he passes by several trailers before pulling into what you assumed was his home. You park behind him and get out of your car.

Eddie walks over to you with a smile, taking your hand into his, and leads you up the steps. As you both enter his home you notice the trailer is a little on the small side but has a homey feel to it that you find charming.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Eddie says bowing at the waist as you walk into his room. You giggle in response as you sidestep some articles of clothing and stand awkwardly beside his bed. His room is for the most part clean, albeit a little disorganized.

You're not sure if you should sit or stand so you choose to wait for him to tell you what to do. You act as if you're strangers as if Eddie hasn't been inside of you and made you cum in almost every way.

Eddie closes his door, kicking off his shoes. "Make yourself comfortable sweetheart, mi casa su casa." He takes a seat next to you on his bed and takes your hand into his.

"I'm so happy you agreed to listen to what I have to say. I was afraid that you would never talk to me again after last time," he says honestly. He feels happy but also nervous for what he is about to expose you to. He knows that everyone will be pissed at him for getting you involved but he could care less. At this point he would do anything to get you back, he would even travel through Mordor unarmed for you.

"Me too Eddie," you reply sweetly. Your heart skips a beat as he presses a kiss to your knuckles. "Eddie, before you begin, I just want to say I'm sorry for how I acted the last time we spoke. It wasn't unnecessary and I said some things that I didn't mean." Your head drops down and you look at your lap, unable to meet his gaze.

He lifts your chin with his ringed finger. "I already forgave you, baby. There's nothing to apologize for," he whispers against your hand still pressed to his lips. You smile as a heated flush creeps up your neck and settles on your face.

Eddie smiles at your response before he begins "As I said before sweetheart, what I'm going to tell you may be hard to believe but just know that everything I say is the truth." He licks his lips as he prepares to tell you the truth about Hawkins.

His eyes are wide, filled with warmth that eases any doubts you may have had before. You nod your head and you listen intently as he begins to tell you a tale so bizarre that it sounds like it's straight from a movie scene.

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You wave goodbye to Robin and Steve as you walk across the dark parking lot toward your car. Your mind races as you fumble with your keys to unlock the car. Hours have passed since your conversation with Eddie but you're still in shock.

The story he had told you felt too bizarre to be true. But when you sat back and thought about all of the strange occurrences that's happened, his explanation was more reasonable than what the media had portrayed. You were correct before when you thought that you wouldn't have time to tell him your truth. He had taken hours to go over everything with you and by the time he was done you were late for work.

You promised that you wouldn't tell anyone about what he had revealed to you, including Steve and Robin. He wanted to keep everyone oblivious to the fact that you knew everything, for now. You smiled to yourself, the way he worried over your safety made your heart clench in happiness and hope that he would be open to what you had to tell him.

A noise startles you from behind and you drop your keys in fear. You were on edge and every little sound was making you jump. Bending down you scoop up your keys swiftly, fear pumping through you as you slot your keys in the lock. You climb into your car swiftly, slamming the door behind you.

Your heart is pounding as you look behind you out of your car windows. For a moment there you could've sworn that you heard footsteps behind you. Taking a deep breath you start your car and head back to Eddie's house. He had invited you back to his house after work once you told him that you had something important to tell him as well. Your mom was out of town visiting family and you hoped that if things ended well, you could spend the weekend with Eddie.

So wrapped up in your thoughts you didn't see the car behind you until it slammed into you, causing you to swerve hazardously before regaining control.

"What the fuck," you yell in surprise. Your eyes fly to your rearview mirror and you're blinded by the harsh light reflecting from the beams.

You realize with a start that the reason you didnt notice them was that they didnt have on their lights until just now. They obviously didn't want you to notice them until it was too late. The car behind you rams into you again and you jerk forward from the impact. A cry leaves your lips as you step on the gas, you have to get away from this person before they kill you.

The other car is right on your tail as you bend the corner dangerously. Sweat coats your entire body as your adrenaline skyrockets. No matter how fast you go, the unknown assailant is right behind you.

The roads are dark and empty as you both race along the paved road. You cry in relief when you realize that you're a few minutes away from Eddie's house. No sooner than the thought enters your mind, they slam into you violently, and the wheel jerks as you lose control of the car. Your car veers off the road and your wheels screech as you skid across the pavement. A silent scream leaves your mouth as you realize that you are headed straight for the treeline.

As you brace for impact, your last thoughts are of Eddie, how you didn't get to tell him you were pregnant and that you never got the chance to tell him that you loved him. Your thoughts are filled with him as glass breaks around you with a sickening crunch and everything fades to black.

Taglist: @bibieddiesgf @tlclick73 @seventhlevelofhell @emmysuebull22 @adequate-superstar @vintagehellfire @sidthedollface2 @blue-eyed-lion @hazydespair @fly-on-the-wall @nicolaj1978 @sinczir @starrywhitenight @merciiss @hanahkatexo @kellysimagines @hargrovesswifee @simp4rengoku @igglepiggle22 @isimpforeveryonee @urdad-hot @thikkiesixx @billyhargrovesfuturewife @sammararaven @yogizzz

[bengiyo]

Love in Translation Ep 8 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

Last week, we went off the deep end with Yang being kidnapped and being forced to work on a packaging warehouse in his skinny jeans to pay back his debts. He was able to smuggle messages out by changing delivery addresses and using the language learning code he taught Phumjai. The rest of the cast rallied around to support Phumjai when they didn't know what had happened to Yang, and also Phojai and Tag reconciled beautifully. Phumjai went rogue to try and rescue Yang alone, and now both have been captured.

1:09:32 finale!!

Phumjai really had no plan and got hurt.

Now Phojai and Tag have showed up with no plan. What the hell is this?

All these boys trying to sacrifice themselves only works because these characters have cared so much for each other consistently.

We're doing PPL in the middle of the crisis. I love it. We need 5 million baht. Perhaps if the audience buys this camera we'll save the boys?

What is Bojji up to?

We took of Ngern's shirt and made him sweat, but at what cost?

The PPL is driving me insane this week. You're too injured to lift things. Good thing we have this app to our local wholesaler.

Oh no, Bojji is having issues as well.

I like that Phumjai is stepping up and putting the money he has on the line in a way that asks Yang to trust him more.

Okay, I like this show ending the debt collection on a comedic note.

Curious what Yang does long term if he's given his shares to the employees.

Phojai and Tag are moving in together!!

Obsessed with these two playing baseball as a quality time exercise.

What is it with these dramas and showing a scene from even further back as a beginning of romance event? This is specific to Asian dramas.

Final episode brotherly context and emotional reconciliation. I'm okay with it.

More PPL. I'm losing my mind, but glad this little show must have succeeded.

This episode is so weird, but I'm having fun.

Qi'er and Bojji are so valid for the screaming and falling out.

The parents look so pleased about Yang and Tag.

Little Sun is going franchise, baby!

DID TAMMY TURN THEM INTO A NOVEL?? SHE SAID I'M GETTING PAID BACK FOR Y'ALL USING MY LIKENESS IN YOUR STORE AND PLAYING WITH MY FEELINGS!

They said the name of the show. Finish your drinks.

And now they're proposing? This show has everything.

Okay. Drawing the ring on Yang"s finger was so goddamn cute.

Of course they met as kids. These dramas love the notion of destiny.

Final Verdict: 8.5, This Show Was So Much Fun. Phumjai and Yang are one of my favorite pairs of the year. I liked the way they fell for each other and the way this show used its workplace. The plot wobbled massively throughout the final two episodes, and we lost the thread on a few things along the way for product placement, but I really loved these characters so much and I loved the way they treated each other. I'm going to miss having this show in the balance. Offroad and Daou and friends did a great job here.

[see--sea]

Hey Tumbler!!!! This is my first actual post lol, and I wanted to make it me info dumping :3. This is all stuff I wrote about one of my OCs and I hope yall love her as much as I do

(PS there is some swearing so, yeah :D)

Her name is Penny (short for Penelope (NOT IT IS NOT A EPIC REFERENCE)) She/Her and she is a “Straight Christian girl” who just so *happens* to have a “special interest” in the HOTTEST girl in school. She lived her life normally, going to school, getting *average* grades, she when to church on Sunday, the whole chick and kabotal :3. Uhhhhhhhhhhhh, she’s in band (cause of course, what do you take me for? A MONSTER?) and she plays flute :D. She had both of her parents together still, a younger brother named David, and a dog named Goober. You could say she basically had a perfect life, to her it was that at least. She had lots of friends, right? I mean, she was basically one of the most popular girls in school. Well, everyone did know penny, and she was the most popular girl in school for YEAR, until one new girl transferred to their high school. Piper was her name, and DAMN did she gain traction fast. She was initially accepted onto the cheerleading team (that didn’t matter to penny as she was in the marching band ✊) and all of the students started paying attention to HER instead of penny. And Penny was 👏M👏A👏D👏. Don’t get me wrong, she has always been in and out of popularity, but something about piper just, AH, but she did know what. After many months of just HATING Piper, she went to go talk to her priest about it. The priest, sounding a bit off from usual, gives her a drink the he says will “calm her down”. She, being told by her mother to always trust the priest, drink the gold-ish drink. Penny feels, find ig? She still DEFINITELY hates Piper, but like, it’s not like a hate hate anymore? She doesn't know how to describe it fully. Anyways she goes home, just, feeling normal per usual. She has dinner with her family, she showers, brushes her teeth, does her whole routine. Something was a little off tho when she started brushes her teeth thought. She had a, tail? No that couldn’t be, she look behind her and it wasn't there. She look back in the mirror and IT WAS THERE AGAIN. “WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON” she said to herself. Just thinking she was so exhausted, she went to bed soundly. The next day she got up LATE in the day. Luckily it was the weekend, so she didn’t really mind. She looked at her alarm clock and it was…. 16:00!!!! JESUS, she normally wakes up at 11 at the latest in the weekends, BUT 4 PM?!?!?!?! She rushed to her bathroom, hoping she wasn't just going crazy, (and to absolutely NO ONES SURPRISE) she looked in the mirror, and her worst nightmare came true. She was a DEMON! She had two long red horns, two scaly wings the size of her arms, and still from yesterday, her tail. She SCREAMED, almost shattering the mirror. Her mother ran upstairs, “honey are you ok?” Said her mom, looking like she just say a ghost. “I’m hideous, oh my god I’m discussing” Penny repeated what felt like a million times. Penny's parents not knowing what the hell to do, take her to the church as that was the last place Penny went to before she went back home. They burst through the church doors, yelling for the priest to help them with there daughter who is sobbing her eyes off. The priest came running out. “Let me take her to the back, I can help her there. You will have to stay here” he states to them, still not fully sounding like himself. He probably just has a cold everyone has been thinking. The priest takes Penny to the back of the church. She stops fully crying, only having a few tears left in her eyes, only to see a SATANIC CIRCLE ON THE GROUND. What was the priest was now a full on demon, looking like he was about to sacrifice Penny! “WAIT, NO PLEASE STOP” she screaming at the demon. “Ooooooooo, so your a screamer huh? The boss is gonna like you” Penny is in absolute shock. The demon can talk? What dose he mean screamer? WHAT BOSS? SATIAN? “WAIT NO, ILL DO ANYTHING, PLEASE” she screams, what feels as if she is ripping her vocal cords apart. The demon freezes, and slowly turns his head towards Penny, with the worlds biggest smirk as if this wasn't his first time doing something like this

Thank all for reading if ya did. I probably won’t post often lol, but if I do it will probably be about more OCs :3

[beansnsoup]

Hiii I love your writingss <3

I don't know if you're getting requests, but I want to try my luck. Can you write something about George Weasley and the female slytherin reader? The reader has no problems with the golden trio and others... over time, she and George become close and they fall in love with each other. But the reader gets the dark mark due to family pressure and becomes a death eater. After what happened, she gets away from everyone and this attracts the attention of the others, especially George... :') I hope you write, thanks in advance~

Tysm for the support!!

☆

See You Again

Summary: She couldn't have been happier with her life, but due to family pressure, she's forced to become a death eater and must give up everyone.

Relationship: Romantic

Character: George Weasley

Warnings: Fluff, angst, fem reader, slytherin reader

"Y/N, you don't have a choice."

"Mom, I can't!"

"Listen to us, Y/N."

You glared at your dad. There was no way this was happening.

"Either you listen to us or never see us again." He added, this is when you felt tears sting at your eyes. You loved your parents. They meant everything to you, and if you never saw them again, you knew you'd hate yourself forever.

You sighed out, "Okay."

Your mom instantly ran up to hug you. She knew this was a sacrifice. Being a Slytherin was more difficult than people would think. They instantly think you're spoiled and conceded.

You tried so hard to make a name for yourself, and since day one, you made sure to mark yourself as the one people could go to for help, no matter the house.

This caught the eye of a certain red head that had always had a hatred towards Slytherins, but you were different.

His name was George Weasley, and he always accidentally found himself subtly flirting with you and staring at you when you aren't paying attention.

Later on, you guys here the power couple of your year. His parents loved you, Molly always spoiled you with treats that you could take home to your family.

Speaking of, your parents were fine with this, until now. They recently had come in contact with the Dark Lord and was told that you had to be able to do things for him like your parents did or you'd die.

This led to them telling you to cut all ties with your friends and even your boyfriend. They were causing you to become the person everyone saw Slytherins as on day one.

-

You didn't want to talk to him. You knew it would lead to you telling him everything which you weren't supposed to do.

You and George would always meet up in the courtyard and sat together in first period, but today, that had to change.

Your friend would normally walk with you because she was smitten for George's brother, Fred.

"Hey, Y/N!"

It hurt, it hurt to ignore your best friend, but it had to be done. You continued to walk past her and through the outdoor hall of the courtyard.

She paced over to Fred and George, "Yo, George, what's up with your girlfriend?"

George furrowed his brows, and your friend makes it over to them, "She just straight up ignored me! I know she heard me. There was barely anyone around, so she wouldn't have been able to miss me."

"What's going on?"

"She going through a phase, I guess, because she was perfectly normal yesterday."

Your friend makes it over to friend, "You'll never do that to me, will you love?" Fred asks. This is followed by her laughing, but George can't even joke back.

He's never felt this worried. His thoughts are flooded. Did he do something to piss you off?

George decided to wait until your first class, which he had with you, to catch you and talk to you. But much to his dismay you were unresponsive, he tried to grab your attention when walking into class but was shoved aside.

Then he remembered the two of you sitting next to each other but then he watched as you went to sit at the table that was always empty. He was going to follow you but didn't want to push it.

He found himself watching you like he always used to do, but this time it wasn't out of love it was out of worry.

The look on your face scared him, like you had seen a ghost or something.

You then asked to go to the bathroom and excuse yourself, which George sneakily followed after asking a friend to cover for him.

He followed you into the bathroom, praying there weren't any other girls in there. He shuts and blocks the door behind him. He checked under all the stalls and then waited at the sink for you.

You opened the stall door and felt your soul leave your body as you saw him, "George, what the hell are you doing?"

"Now she speaks."

You sigh, swerving past him to wash your hands, "I can't do this right now."

"Why? You could do it this morning either, why did you ignore us like that?"

"You won't understand." Your voice was starting to crack.

"Try me."

"George, stop, please."

"What happened? You can't leave me like this."

"George, I can't, you don't understand."

"Please, Y/N."

At this point, tears were streaming down your face. You walked up to him, caressing his hands and arms, just in case this was the last time you'd ever see or feel each other again.

Your hands found their way to his face, his were planted on your waist.

"I'm not supposed to say anything."

"I'll keep you safe, don't worry, love."

That's what go you, those words alone convinced you everything was going to be okay.

"I'm not supposed to see you anymore, or anyone for that matter, that's why I didn't talk to any of you this morning."

Before he could ask why you continued, "My parents forced me to, I didn't have a choice, they told me if I didn't do as I was told I'd never see them again, and I couldn't do thag George, I just couldn't." You looked at him, deciding if you should tell him the reason behind all of what you just told him.

"I thought your parents loved me."

"They do, but,"

"Go on, love. Please."

"They became death eaters, and He Who Must Not Be Named told them that because I knew I had to also be under his order or they'd kill me."

That's when he finally fell silent. He took your hand off his face and then slowly lifted the sleep of your robe and button up.

You felt him tense up when he saw the dark mark on your arm, "Oh, darling, I'm sorry."

You were pulled into an embrace. You didn't think this would be the outcome at all.

"We're going to get through this, I won't say anything, ignore me infront of everyone, but please keep in touch."

Being a slytherin hurts man

You smiled through tears, "Of course."

[maneater217]

Little Miss Perfect: Chapter 2

TW: this story contains substance abuse, eating disorders, violence, and sexual themes. Interact at your own risk <3

Chapter 2: Acing It

Y/n Von Gatton had all the attention a person could ever dream of- almost.

Her parents were always away on business. Her father Clay was a hot shot lawyer who often had to travel to the mainland for his clients and her mother Heidi refused to leave his side. Y/n often wondered what it would be like to have someone that loyal to her- to be prioritized above anything else, especially money.

She knew deep down though that moping around or picking up a cocaine addiction would not turn her parents heads in her direction. Instead, she became a chronic overachiever in everything.

It had seemed as if her efforts were finally paying off. Her parents had told her that they would be back from their business trip on the mainland just in time for her first preseason match. The years of pushing herself would finally be worth something- her parents attention.

That was until she had gotten a call from her dad.

"Hey, Dad! What's up?" she asked in a cheery mood.

"Princess, I'm sorry. This call probably isn't news you wanna hear," sighed her father.

"Oh," she whispered.

She knew what was coming. It was almost clockwork at this point. a part of her wished they would stop saying they'd come to matches at all. They only ever streamed her highlights or showed up to playoff appearances.

"We are just so sorry, darling," said her mother in the background.

"We tried to make it fit into the schedule but things got backed up with a client here on the mainland," her father added.

"No it's ok. I understand the sacrifices you guys make for me," she assured- it was only half a lie.

"That's my girl! You understand the family priorities," gushed her mother.

"We promise to make it up to you, Princess. Love you," said her father.

"I love you guys too!" replied y/n.

Of course she was an understanding daughter. She didn't have a choice. She couldn't convince her parents to come watch her success. She couldn't stop the hot tears from running down her face. She couldn't stop the hunger in her stomach, but she could win her match tomorrow.

Y/n Von Gatton did not like to lose control. Everything in her life was a factor she could control. Her grades- control, her tennis- control, and even her weight was all about control.

Rafe Cameron had lost control of almost everything in his life. He had no control within his family, no control of his money, and somedays he felt as if he had no control of his mind.

Within the tacky wallpapered walls of Tannyhill, Ward Cameron held all control. He came from nothing, wanting to give his children everything and he did-in his mind. The one thing that he could not give, however, was approval to Rafe. There was always something wrong with the boy in his eyes and in Rafe's eyes there was no use in trying anymore.

Rafe had been lounging on the patio that afternoon, enjoying the fact that there were virtually no thoughts in his head.

Ward was quick to change that.

"Son, we need to talk," said Ward. His voice stern as usual.

Rafe wanted to roll his eyes. They always needed to talk but never about anything good.

"What's up Dad?" he asked as nicely as possibly.

"Midsummers is coming up. Now, this year is special because they're celebrating my contributions to the club. All eyes will be on the family" his father replied.

Rafe looked at him to continue and Ward shook his head and sighed, as if Rafe was supposed to understand what he was implying. Impossible as ever.

"Son, what I'm getting at here is that you should- no need, to have a date. A respectable one too," he lectured.

"I don't understand why it's so important," Rafe huffed; he regretted it instantly.

Ward sighed, lowering his head and taking a deep breath.

"I don't understand why you make things so difficult. A boy with your last name should find a respectable date easily, especially considering it's only one night," his father growled.

"I understand," Rafe said quietly.

"Good," finished Ward as he returned to the house.

Rafe barely slept that night. He was pissed that he was only a pawn in Ward's chess game. Pissed that his father only ever saw him as something that could either make or break his image.

Ironically, in the development over was y/n. She was also pissed. She was pissed that she wasn't even a variable in whatever game her parents played. Pissed that she so desperately wanted to be in their image.

The next morning had y/n anxious. She was so anxious that she couldn't eat- she must've been anxious for the last 48 hours then too.

She had told herself to get it together. There was no room for failure. If her parents couldn't be there then she would make their loss her victory. Her competitive spirit had won her SEC freshman of the year, it couldn't fail her now.

Y/n showed up to the courts earlier than need, as usual. She wanted time to herself to really take in where she was and what she was there to do. Today's match was not high stakes by any means but her most recent phone call with her parents had given her a different kind of motivation.

After what had seemed like seconds of practice, people had started filling the stands.

A hungover Rafe Cameron was one of the people in the stands, surrounded by Topper and his sister.

"Babe, I'm surprised your cousin could get all three of us in for free," gushed Sarah.

"Well she told me her parents weren't coming so she didn't need to reserve seats for them," replied Topper.

"Oh," said Sarah, looking down.

"Yeah, kinda feel bad for her. They never go to her stuff because my uncle gets busy with lawyer stuff," he continued.

Hearing that surprised Rafe. He always assumed y/n's parents must've thought she was a God sent or something. Maybe this was why she was such a stuck up bitch.

The match had started and y/n was winning. No surprise there. She was getting exhausted though. Every swing was harder than the last and she was terrified people were noticing. Nobody could tell- except for Rafe. He thought it was odd that a D1 tennis player could run out of gas so quickly. By the second set, she could barely keep up with her opponent. This was a clear sign to Rafe that little miss perfect had to be overrated.

Y/n was pissed at herself. She had lost the second set, which would meant they needed to play a third.

Going into the third set wasn't easy. The match was close, showing how both girls were extremely hungry for the win. With one final serve, y/n pushed herself over the edge. She had won.

Her win may not have meant much statistically, but in that moment it meant everything.

Yes, y/n Von Gatton was acing it.

This feeling did not last long as pride was replaced by exhaustion. She scurried over to the locker rooms and was quickly followed by her coach. Y/n felt herself stumble onto the cold tile, her legs too wobbly to support her.

Rafe was lazily walking towards the bathrooms when he stumbled upon a conversation he knew he was never meant to hear.

"Y/n, you have to stop doing this to yourself. Your coach at Florida will start to notice," said an older female voice who he had assumed was her private coach.

"I know," responded y/n, heavily winded.

"Go, you're off for the next week. Go eat something good," ordered the older woman.

"Coach, you know I can't afford that," she argued.

"Yes you can. No complaints, y/n," said her coach who then left the locker rooms.

Rafe quickly ducked behind the wall in between the locker rooms and the bathrooms as her coach briskly walked away.

He peered into the locker room to see her sitting against a bench, still breathing heavily.

"Hey are you alright?" he asked.

She quickly turned towards him, obviously caught off guard.

"This is the women's locker room Rafe. Are you seriously that perverted?" she scoffed.

"Just wanted to see what the problem was, heard you and your coach going at it," he smirked.

"It's none of your concern, especially considering the fact you have plenty of your own issues to be concerned about," she spat, now looking at the ground.

"You know it's funny you say that because you could help me with one of those concerns," he said.

"Not interested, however, I'm sure one of the cart girls would be more than willing to help you out," she laughed.

"Funny," he said in annoyance, rolling his eyes.

"Actually, I was thinking how you're gonna go to midsummers with me," he added.

"And why the actual fuck would I do that," she questioned.

He smiled to himself, lowering himself down to her level.

"Because if you don't, I'll tell everyone on Figure 8 that little Miss Perfect starves herself," he chuckled in a dark manner.

"Yeah because everyone is gonna believe coked out Cameron," she argued.

"Not everyone has to, but it'll get people talking. I think that's more than enough to do some serious damage to your squeaky clean reputation," he smiled.

She thought he was evil and unfortunately knew he was right. She bit the inside of her cheek.

Rafe smiled even more. Y/n may not have verbally admitted defeat but her body language had said enough.

"So here's the deal, Princess. You're gonna go to midsummers with me and be the prettiest little date Figure 8 has ever seen. If you can manage that then your secret is safe with me," he said, dangerously close to her face.

She whipped her head towards him, looking directly into his piercing blue eyes and smirked.

"Fine, Cameron, but if all of this was just to tell me that I'm pretty, you could've done it more directly," she teased, regaining her footing.

She grabbed her bag and strutted out of the locker room, leaving Rafe a little shocked.

In Rafe's mind, however, he had his perfect date to midsummers.

He was acing it.

[snobgoblin]

okay ill bite (/affectionate) whats the arcana about !!

!!! YES <- hook up a generator to him he is stimming- ok so I have answered this in another ask BUT I'll go into detail in this one theres the spoiler free one, this one will be 100% spoiler

OK so.... oh my god where do I even start. there's so much I do not expect you to read this LMAO but thank you for the opportunity to talk about this

ok so it's a visual novel. and you can play six different versions of the same story (volume 1 being Asra, Nadia, and Julian, with volume 2 being Muriel, Portia, and Lucio) and honestly, volume 1 is the strongest imo THATS NOT TO SAY VOLUME 2 ISNT GOOD I just love volume 1 because it's GENUINELY just the same exact story from different perspectives whereas volume 2 takes creative liberties (especially Portias route which is sad because I love Portia as a character but her route is so disconnected from the others that I don't like it that much) ANYWAY ANYWAY enough opinions let's get into the lore (actually while I'm on the topic, based on the plot of each route? honestly the best way to play would be Nadia->Julian->Asra->Muriel->Lucio <- Portia's story is disconnected from the rest so it doesn't fit into this? (which makes sense considering she hasn't been in town as long as the others so she isn't involved in their stuff) but you kind of do need to play Julian's route beforehand if for no other reason than to get a feel for Mazelinka's character and Portia's backstory)

as far as lore. I guess I will start at the beginning, Montag Morgasson (better known as Count Lucio now) is part of a tribe known as the Scourge of the South, and his mom was the leader so he was kind of entitled, he felt like he would have power handed to him when he turned 18 but that didn't happen! his mom just cut him off. so Lucio gets mad and tries to bargain with the wyrm Vlagnagog, only to mistakenly summon demon Vlastomil as Vlagnagog has been shriveled up for a while now from not getting any sacrifices. anyway Vlastomil promises to help Lucio weaken his parents via Pestilence in exchange for their hearts. Lucios dad is bedridden and Lucio kills him, but he cannot kill Morga as she's not so easily defeated. she decides to spoil him one last time by letting him free in combat, as she cannot bear to kill her own son

AND SIDE NOTE I absolutely love seeing the naming convention of The Scourge of the South like Morga gave birth to Lucio so he is Lucio Morgasson (Morga's Son) and Morga also occasionally introduces herself as Morga Eirsdottir, assuming one of her parents was Eirs, probably her mother

ANYWAY because the deal is not fulfilled, red beetles start following Lucio around (he has a complicated relationship with beetles but I won't get into that rn) and with them, the red plague. Lucio starts doing mercenary work so all over the world this plague is happening, but Lucio doesn't seem to realize it's his fault, the beetles are following him. he just keeps making deals and not fulfilling them because he doesn't understand, when you don't uphold your end of a magical bargain, it has a way of punishing you. this will come back to bite him later and he develops a huge fear of death when he realizes he'll never be able to pay off his debt, later leading him to bargain with The Devil, but we're not there yet

where were we! Mercenary work! ok so at some point Julian left Nevivon for Prakra to study under Nazali, and he ends up on the battlefield with Lucio, as a doctor. he amputates Lucios arm. during this battle, the count of Vesuvia who he's fighting for sees this sacrifice and resolves to make him the new count iirc. so that's how he rose to power (I'll go into other character backstories here in a minute)

Lucio throws a bunch of parties and bullies local homeless kids as count, two of those being Muriel and Asra. I'll explain their deal once I'm done explaining Lucio bc he truly is the central character here, he's where all the conflict comes from. just keep that in mind

he also marries Nadia, trapping her in a hopeless marriage while he has endless affairs with the other nobles. but she doesn't care bc she doesn't even wanna be married in the first place. she's just being treated as eye candy like she has her whole life and she's resigned to her fate (SAD)

so because he's staying in the same place. he catches the Red Plague. and he tries to do this whole ritual (it's really long to explain) to get a new body, but BOOM Asra sabatoged it! he put pomegranate juice in instead of Lucios blood so the ritual would fail (the ritual was to fuse Lucio with the Devil) but now he's just stuck as this ghost goat in between dimensions

the game starts three years after this takes place, and it is your job to solve the "murder" and I think that brings me to Julian because he's a pretty important piece there

so Julian, big brother of Portia, was born to a rich family, the Devoraks, but one day the ship crashed, killing his parents, and leaving salt seals to save he and Portia's life. later, pirate Mazelinka found them and took them to Nevivon to be raised by the grandmas, a loving community of elderly salt miners and here they spent their childhood. Julian was taught how to read and write by Mazelinka's girlfriend Lilinka, and Portia felt left out. she felt left out in a lot of ways, like this and then, she wasn't even old enough to remember their parents. she's just always felt left out. anyway adding salt to the wound Julian goes off to study medicine in Prakra, leaving Portia behind once again

Julian was also working during the Red Plague, under the palace head doctor Valdemar (ooooooh don't even get me started on the courtiers or ill never shut up) he was trying to find a cure, when his Apprentice succumbed to the illness. then he also caught it, and because of his near death experience, he was visited by the Hanged Man, who revealed to him the cure to the plague was to kill Lucio. so Julian escaped the dungeon where he had been locked in to focus on his cure, and he tried to kill Lucio, but by the time he got there the room was on fire. him being there, though, gave courtiers a reason to pin the blame on him later and the ritual made everyone lose their memories so he couldn't even dispute it

OK and then Asra's parents made Lucio a metal arm when he lost his, and he locked them up for it, leaving Asra homeless. here he met Muriel, who was also homeless due to his parents giving him away to save him from a raid by the Scourge of the South. their whole childhood they lived on the docks with Lucio harassing them. now, what they didn't know was that Asras parents? they made a deal with the Devil. Lucio physically could not hurt Asra. however, Lucio would threaten Muriel to do things by claiming he would hurt Asra if he did not comply. Lucio told Asra the same thing but for Muriel, using their love for each other to control them. Muriel def got the worst of this imo, he was forced to kill people and rabid animals in gladiator battle with the stage name being the name of the tribe who killed his whole family. Asra merely had to help Lucio with magical things. Muriel kept all this a secret from Asra bc he didn't want him to feel bad

God there is so much more and thats not even scratching the surface but my fingers hurt so bad from typing so I'll have to stop 😭 thank you this was fun

[mauveberries]

HP Rapunzel/Tangled Series au

-> Rapunzel: Fem!Harry

-> Mother Gothel: Bellatrix 

-> Cassandra (Gothel’s daughter from the tangled series): Delphini

-> Eugene: Maybe Sirius? (not sure, someone else can come up with this one, or perhaps there just won’t be a savior. 

Voldemort is dead, and Bellatrix is in complete dismay and denial of her master [lover] being gone. She has nothing but hatred for Harry, the wrenched thing that took her master from her, so she hatches a plan to kill her, but somehow ends up finding out that Harry is a Horcrux and gets obsessed with the idea of having a part of Voldemort with her again and maybe using the child to get him back, so she steals Harry away and raises her [If James or perhaps Lily is alive, then she was stolen from one of them. If they’re both dead then she was just stolen from the Dursley’s]. Bellatrix either raises Harry and Delphini equally along side each other, and they become best friends, or, in her blind obsession to try to get Voldemort back, she sort of pushes Delphini aside to watch over Harry, which leads to Delphini having very conflicting feelings towards Harry. She [Delphini] loves her [Harry] because she has always been nice, lovable, and she’s just so good that it’s hard not to love her, but she also resents her for stealing her mother’s attention. For having some kind of connection to her father. 

[Oooh, but it can also take some kind of twisted route, where Delphini has her parents tendency of obsession. So, while she loves and dislikes Harry, she is also very obsessed with her. Maybe that can add on to more of the conflict she feels. Her parents are hers but Harry is also hers. She hates Harry getting all the attention and being closer to her mother, but also hates the fact that she’s [Harry] getting attention from someone that’s not her and that she’s way closer to someone other than her] 

For Bellatrix and Harry, you can decide on how their relationship is with each other and how Bella raising her affects their personalities. For Harry, Bella is all she’s ever really known, so she obviously loves her and thinks of her as her mother. Perhaps Bella raising her has changed her. She’s either good and has a darker side, or she’s just still completely good [but she would totally choke you out if you, let’s say, stole something from her “mother”] (*cough* Book Harry *cough*). Now Bellatrix is tricker. Her own motive of stealing and raising Harry was to be closer to the soul of her master [lover] that resonated in the child, but ultimately, led her to brain storming ideas of ways she can use the girl to somehow resurrect him. So maybe along the way she does grow to love Harry but her love for Voldemort and seeing him again is way stronger so if she had to sacrifice the girl for it, she would, reluctantly and regretfully, but she would. Or perhaps she never loved Harry. All that attention and “love” she was receiving from Bella was for the Horcrux within her. She keeps Harry very close and on a tight leash. 

Bonus: 

-> Captain of the guards (Cass’ adopted father): Rodolphus 

Rodolphus and Delphini are close. Depending on how much attention Bellatrix gives Delphini, you can say that he pays her [Delphini] the same amount of attention or he pays her a little/lot more attention when Bella cannot. He trains her, with magic and knifes/swords. He’s also close to Harry and trains her as well, but not that often, as that’s Bella’s thing. His relationship with Bellatrix can be up to debate. 

WAHHHHH THIS IS SO GOOD I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!! absolute BANGER fic idea, if you write it, i am strapped. in. i will be reading it. 10000000%

GODDD the dark themes, just urghh everything about this is so good. sad voldemort is dead though :(

but UGH bella's obsession? EPIC. thats so CLEVERRR

sirius as eugene is MY FAVVVV I LOVE ITT AHHH endgame sirry would be fantastic too omggg i love this so much.

delphini competing with harry? TOP-TIER.

i am SAT. if you write this pleaseee let me know i will gobble it up.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for arranging a whole bunch of needless death and violence for mostly entertainment purposes?

I'm immortal. Not the boring, "a stake in the heart will end everything" kind of immortal— I mean the well and truly cannot die sort. (Well. That did get proven wrong eventually, but that's a story for another day.)

So anyway, as you might imagine, a life as long as mine gets rather boring. One century, when I was particularly bored, I ventured down to this city— a grim old city, the sort of place where the rain beats down like coffin nails and the air wafts with the cigarette stench of betrayal.

I felt right at home.

To occupy my time, I took over the vast processor made up of the consciousnesses of everyone who'd ever died in the city, which was used to power the entire place. This established me as something of a powerful person in the city, meaning when desperate people needed some very particular favors... Well, I was just the person to ask.

Some special few of these desperate people took my interest. A starving artist type, willing to do anything to fish his lost lover's consciousness out of the processor. A ruthless numbskull trying to buy his way out of his father's debt. A blind and disgraced doctor needing a way out of the city. An heiress to a family with a sullied name, trying to rebuild her parents' empire.

I brought this not-so-merry crew together and set them the task of finding a way into a secret vault that was said to contain something that could take down the processor and the powerful families running the city. I promised them all that, should they succeed, they would get what they needed to achieve their respective goals. Whether or not I planned to come through on that promise is irrelevant, seeing as they're all dead now.

So they got down to the vault, and the big guy, the one with far too many muscles and far too few brain cells, set about trying to beat the code to vault out of its creator, a tortured drunken ex-soldier who'd seen far better days. When that failed, "the suits" as I'd been calling them, thus named for their matching pinstripe outfits (my personal touch), started going through the four tasks or Trials needed to open the vault without the code.

First, a trial of wits. The doctor fellow made short work of this one, using the cables winding from his empty eye sockets to deal with whatever program the computerized lock was running.

Next, a trial of strength. A rather dramatic way of saying the big guy had to turn a heavy wheel.

Third, a trial of song. The young, lovelorn musician sang his heart out about his troubles and regrets. All very moving, I'm sure. The third lock was opened.

Now, for the fourth. A trial of love. What I failed to mention to any of them beforehand, was that the fourth and final trial required one of their number to sacrifice themself without hesitation.

This had been meant for the heiress, who was said to be madly in love with a famous hero of the city, but as it turned out, their entire dalliance had been a scheme to try to regain her social standing after her parents' grievous and very public misstep (which had cost some dozens of people their lives.) So, she was out.

The delicate musical lad offered himself up, but he couldnt see it through. He stepped into the chamber, braced himself, but at the last second he fucked it up. He looked back.

At this point, a friend of mine, the one that really wanted that vault opened, who'd been watching the whole ordeal, stepped forward. Hed figured out that the "without hesitation" caveat was tested by a simple motion sensor inside the chamber, so told the suits that three of them would get a pay increase if they tied up the fourth and shoved them into the chamber. Didnt matter who, so long as the vault was opened.

In the ensuing chaos, our bloodied, beaten little war hero took their chance. They used one of the last three laser shots left in their blaster, shooting it through the large diamond they kept in their pocket, which split the one beam into many. A shot for each of the suits and my friend. Some even got two.

And so, all outside the vault was blood and death. And our broken soldier, they got up, and they put in the code to the vault.

Inside was nothing special. Not if you were expecting some great weapon or hoard of riches or anything. It was just a tree— the very last one on the planet— and a patch of grass. But it was more than that. It was the only place on the planet one could go to die a true death, without their mind being trapped in a half-conscious hell to power the city for the rest of forever.

And that was just what they did.

The vault sealed behind them, never to reopen.

So anyway! TLDR AITA for arranging a kind-of-heist mission that I knew had a decent chance of ending with everybody involved dying mostly because I was bored?

[apuckishwit]

The mortifying ordeal of realizing you're going to meet your crush in person

Steve doesn’t freeze.

He doesn’t.

He takes a perfectly reasonable moment to process the boys’ request and the fact that he just stands there with a stack of plates clutched in his hands hovering over a cardboard box while his brain basically does a barrel roll and starts screaming, “Meet Eddie? Meet Eddie? Meet Eddie?” is purely coincidence.

He puts the stack of plates down in the cardboard box and then very casually leans back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “You guys want me to take you to Ohio this summer?” he repeats, also very casually.

“Yeah!” Dustin says, and Steve can already tell that now that the floodgates have been opened, the kid’s going to be pacing like a caged lion and vibrating like a livewire in about ten seconds. “We’ve got it all figured out. There’s a Greyhound bus that runs between Chicago and Columbus and Lucas and I have enough saved from Christmas and birthday money to pay for our tickets. Um, you’d have to buy your own but I swear we’ll pay you back.” True to Steve’s prediction, Dustin starts pacing the small length of his kitchen, his arms swinging wildly as he talks. “And then we can get convention passes and a hotel room. The actual hotel the convention is at is a little outside our price range, but Columbus has a public transport system and there’s cheaper motels not that far from the convention center, and we’d only have to stay for one night! We can get there on Friday night, stay at the hotel, go see Eddie on Saturday, and then get back on the bus and head back to Chicago!”

Steve’s not a math genius or anything, and he has no idea how much convention passes are for this thing, but he’s pretty sure there’s no way Dustin and Lucas have got enough birthday and Christmas money for bus tickets, convention tickets, and a hotel room, no matter how cheap. When he says as much, Dustin actually blushes, shrugging a little.

“I figured I could skip Camp Know Where this year. I get a scholarship for most of it, but Mom still has to pay part. It should be enough to cover the hotel and convention tickets.”

At that, Steve startles. “You love going to your nerd camp,” he says softly.

“Yeah,” Dustin agrees, but then he grins at his friends. “But I think this is more important this year…when are we gonna get another chance to visit Eddie?”

“Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the good of the Party,” Lucas says, his voice deadly serious. “I was gonna go to that basketball clinic Mr. Newby put up flyers for last week, but I’d rather help pay for our tickets.”

“And I’ve been saving my allowance for some new paints, but, uh, I’m gonna pitch that in for food,” Will adds. For a moment, he looks a little embarrassed that his contribution is so much smaller than Dustin’s and Lucas’s, but the boys sling their arms around his shoulders, and the embarrassment quickly fades. “And! And! Mike’s pretty sure he can talk his parents into letting him come, too! Like, come up and stay with me and leave for the convention with us!”

Their excitement is palpable—word of the day, the day he finally registered for his first classes…Robin had come over and sat with him while he did it, and afterwards she’d squealed and hugged him and he could almost feel her pride and happiness wrapping around him like a blanket—and Steve can’t help the grin tugging at his mouth. Goddamn, he loves these little shits so much. The boys turn hopeful eyes on him again, Dustin bouncing a little on his toes.

“Sooooo?” he asks. “What do you say?”

“Please Steve?” Lucas says.

“Yeah, please?” Will smiles up at him sweetly and Steve shakes his head.

“When is this convention?” he sighs, nodding to himself when Dustin rattles off the dates. He doesn’t think it’ll conflict with his classes (he wonders if he’s ever going to get used to the swoop in his stomach when it hits him that he’s got classes coming up—he really got accepted to the program he wanted, he’s really going to school) and even if it does, it should be early enough that he won’t miss something earth-shattering.

Because really…

How could he say no?

He pretends to be thinking it over for a few moments, just to watch them squirm in suspense, before he sighs and nods. “All right, I’m in,” he says, and then turns back to his cabinets and pretends to ignore the hyper cheers that burst out of the boys. A second later, though, he lets out a sharp oof when he’s tackled from behind by three skinny sets of arms.

“Thank you!”

“Yes! I knew you wouldn’t let us down!”

“Oh my God, this is going to be awesome! Eddie’s gonna be so surprised!”

He manages to wrest himself around to face them, trying to pull his face into a stern frown and failing miserably if the way they’re grinning up at him is any indication. “All right, all right, if you’re not going to help me pack, then scram,” he orders, and is unsurprised when they all of a sudden need to start working on the parental pitch, now that they’ve secured a chaperone. He’s not even mad about it—he trusts Will to be careful with his things, but Dustin is often a bull in a china shop and Lucas is going through a growth spurt that has left him coltish and clumsy.

They file out of his apartment, talking about how they’re going to present their idea with the same intensity they strategize in the campaign. Dustin is muttering something about a slideshow while Lucas wonders if they can use the A/V club’s equipment as the door swings shut behind them. Steve carefully finishes packing the last of his plates away (he should probably leave at least one out, but he’s honestly too lazy…he can just eat off of paper plates for the last few days here) and manages to carry the box over to the neat stack he has going right by the door.

As soon as he sets it down, though, the full extent of what he’s just agreed to do hits him. His brain starts barrel-rolling again. And all he can do is sink down onto his coffee table and stare at his wide-eyed reflection in his dark TV screen.

What has he done?

From Ch 27 of Rolled a 1 on the Check, Rolled a 20 on the Save on AO3, by APuckish_Wit

[nanamismoonchild]

hi i would like to request something 😄 could you write about the reader having toxic parents so jimin comforts her like he’s always holding her hand or caressing her cheek and he speaks to her very softly oh and also gentle kisses? and one day the members asks him why he’s acting this way towards her and you can imagine the rest<33

parentification

pairing: bf!jimin x gf!reader (established relationship au)

wc: 1.2k

warnings: being parentified, ungrateful sister and parents, basically the family ain't and will never be shit (maybe), cursing

a/n: im gonna ignore that this is all the way from february, and simply present this and run away. please enjoy :D

Jimin was heated. He had watched you have a full on argument with your parents about whether or not you needed to pay rent for an apartment your little sister was on the verge of getting kicked out of. 

Their logic was: 

Your boyfriend was mega rich.  

That was it.  That was all they had to say.  It didn’t matter how many times you told them that you were responsible for yourself and rarely asked Jimin for any help. It didn’t matter how many times you told them that you were already paying for college and all the expenses that came with that. Your only saving grace was living with Jimin that helped alleviate your own burdens.  

Nothing mattered except your sister’s rent which she was already four months behind on. Why the landlord let her stay there for that long is beyond both you and Jimin. That was almost two thousand dollars they wanted from you, and you had no plans on giving it. 

You had already paid the time and patience when you were younger, having to hustle to pay the light bill and buy groceries so you and she wouldn’t starve to death. You had barely managed to go to your prom had it not been for your school librarian taking pity and paying for your dress and dues.

So no, you wouldn’t sacrifice anything now. 

Did it hurt to have to tell your sheltered sister no? Of course.

Tears streamed down your face as you remembered how your sister had practically called you selfish and dishonorable. Refusing to admit she was the one who needed to take responsibility for her own carelessness. 

And that’s why Jimin found himself parking on the side of the road, heaving you over the console, and hugging you until you stopped shaking and hugged him back. Small kisses placed on your cheeks and a few caresses of your back and you were more than okay. 

“Thank you Minnie.”

“____, you don’t need to lend a penny to those people.”

“Those people are my family, Minnie. What else am I supposed to do?”

“Let them deal with it. Your sister dug herself into shit, let her pull herself out. It’s time you stop giving them things when they haven't given you anything. ____, I can’t even remember them actually giving you a gift for Christmas. In fact, I clearly remember last year’s Christmas, and you had to give your mom, sister, and father gift cards all worth two hundred dollars because they stomped all over you. Baby, fuck them.”

Jimin’s words were hitting home and it made you worse. More tears fell as you nodded, agreeing with him. It was time to cut off contact. As much as you hated it. 

Taking a deep breath, you crawled back over to the passenger seat. 

“Ready to get moving again, or do you need a moment?”

“I’m ready Jimin.”

Meeting with Namjoon and Yoongi had been the plan for today, even though Jimin had wanted to stay home and love on you all day. However, neither of the older men were having it and basically forced him to meet them in Yoongi’s studio. 

“You need to stop being so clingy to ___. Otherwise, she’s going to get uncomfortable,” Yoongi said as he opened an unfinished song that the three of them were working on. 

“I disagree with that, Yoongi. ____ acts the same way. I wonder what Jimin has done to earn that type of love,” Namjoon jokes. 

Jimin rolled his eyes and waved the two of them off. Not his or your fault that you cared deeply for each other. 

“So funny. Anyway, Namjoon, you know a lot about different things. Can you help me with something? I need some advice,” Jimin asked. 

Namjoon turned swiftly away from his computer giving Jimin his attention. “Sure. If I can help, I will.”

“OK. ___ has been having some family trouble for a while. And yesterday was terrible. I told her to move on from her family, but now I’m wondering if that was shitty advice.”

Yoongi spoke up first. “No. If her family ain’t shit, they’re not worth having in her life. Mind telling us what they did.”

“Not really my place. But basically, and ___ has told me this, they’ve parentified her.”

“What’s that?” His older brothers asked at the same time. 

“It’s when a child gets the role of a parent to their siblings or parent. So they have to act as the caregiver at a young age. ___ has been in the parent role for a long time, and they can’t seem to let go of the fact that she’s no longer able to be controlled by them.”

“That sounds like a problem for them. ____ is definitely able to cut ties with them. I think you have her good advice.”

“I agree with Namjoon. Good advice. If she decides to cut ties, and they somehow figure out they were extreme assholes and apologize, it would be up to her to figure out whether or not she wants to repair the ties she cut,” Yoongi cosigned. 

Jimin nodded and made a mental note to tell you that. 

“Anymore questions? I want to get started on recording this song and put the finishing touches if we need any. 

“Nope.”

“_____!” Jimin called out into the apartment. 

“Minnie, I’m here in the kitchen. I got hungry.”

Jimin pouted as he held the bag of fried rice tightly. “But I already picked up food.” He strolled into the kitchen to see you already scarfing down some ramen. 

“I’m always down for fried rice. I’ll eat some after I finish this.”

Jimin pouted more, but poured a few spoonfuls of the rice into a bowl for him and a few for you.

“How’d the recording go?” You asked him taking a spoonful of your rice. 

Jimin groaned and swiped a hand through his hair, “An intern came in to help us add some beats, and then accidentally deleted everything we worked on. We tried to just take it out of the recycle bin, but apparently, things like that, just get straight up deleted. So now we have to start completely over from scratch.” “Aw, I’m sorry Minnie. How’d they even manage to do that?”

“Beats me, baby. How was your day?”

When you didn’t respond right away, he glanced up from his bowl and eyed you. You were suddenly pushing rice around your face, refusing to look at him. 

“____? What’s up?”

“Imayhavewentaheadandpaidformysister’sbullshitrentandthentoldallofthemtokissmyblackass.” You said in a rush. 

If Jimin hadn’t been paying close attention, he might’ve missed everything. 

“You paid?”

You nodded, meeting his eyes.  “And told them that if they wanted anything else from me, they would have to come find me. They humiliated me yesterday. I refuse to take anything else from them. So like I said, they can kiss my black ass.”

Jimin’s eyes were wide as he started clapping for you. Your face heated, but a smile was slowly spreading. 

“You should’ve seen the look on their face, Minnie. Priceless,” you laughed and then gasped as you remembered another detail. “And guess what else I did!”

“Middle finger?” “No, but I should have,” you said. “But I had printed out several companies that were hiring around my sister’s place, put it in an envelope, and chucked it at her face!”

“That’s not as badass as you think it is, love.”

“I will not hesitate to cut you off too, Park Jimin.”

[mechazushi]

Nothing serious, just a me thing. (I'm just stressing over bullshit, don't read too hard into this)

@bluevelvetea

@iceclew

Hey, sooo, um... I don't really know how to go about this so I'm just gonna say it.

Bluevelvetea has extended an invite to the Kn8 Discord server and Iceclew keeps saying that me and Her? should do a shared canvas thing? together and there's also someone on Ao3 that offered to make fanart for me and wanted to hit them up on Discord or somewhere else and....

I am very well aware that I haven't said anything about it, about saying that I'd love to or putting forth an effort to make that happen because...

I've... never had people to do that with. I've only had one irl friend so far and ever since i've graduated early and she went off to college, she's been ridiculously hard to get a hold of. She has shitty connection, she has a history of being broke so she has to sacrifice things on occasion, and she lets text pile up. I send her several texts over months and then when I DO finally catch her at a time where she can text me back, she'll drop at a random point in the conversation without telling me she left and I can't get a hold of her for another month. It doesn't help that she lets me do all the talking so I hardly know anything about her at this point.

My parents are next door neighbors and they come over often. I can't talk to my mom about things i'm into because she calls them "Irrational" and "Not useful" sometimes. I love talking about White and Nerdy things with my dad, but we can't really talk about the things we like in front of mom because she has this weird thing about hating listening to others talking and can't take it when me and dad talk about anime or a new reddit alien story he found. He can't catch up on things we both like because Mom gets on us for being on our phones too much and since he's around her more often than me, he just kinda stuck between gaming, helping mom around the house, or on his phone (He's out of a job right now because he's been in recovery from his second knee surgery, but mom wants the both of them to get jobs soon and for me to get a different one)

We love her, Its just she's a really big, "Gotta keep doing useful and important things" Kinda person? Not into sitting on asses and watching shows for too long. Really likes home improvement projects, does that make any sense? I can talk to her about things, but the only subject I feel like I can talk to her about are medical oddities or advancements, something her Scabble Go partners did, or how shitty it is that we're stuck in this town that we're in and can't do anything she considers fun, which is leaving state boarders and going ANYWHERE ELSE. She constantly wants greener pastures and the only thing that gets her to stop focusing on how monotonous her life feels is projects. Anything fanatical or imaginary she deems not worth the time and I feel like she judges others who enjoy that. I think the reason why her favorite genre of movies/shows is sci-fi is because it's escapeism crossing with potential realism. At the point in time where average citizens can escape their problems thanks to science and head to the stars, is where she would be happiest and that's the only thing she can get out of shows.

Anyway. the point is, I've never met people that wanted to talk to me about things I liked and gave me more options to express myself and my thoughts to others who might feel the same way. Being able to meet others who can do things I can't and being the person who inspired others to make something I can only literally dream of has been a kind of a bucket list item for me. I never thought I'd get to meet people who felt friendly enough with me on the internet to go out of their way to make art about something I've thought about without me having to pay for it or have chances to talk to others about something I've thought about and get responses about it back.

I definitely thought I would be on here for, like, another year or something before people would talk to me, let alone just... make something I spoke about into existence. Which is great, but it's also kinda scaring me a little. I'm one of those people that's afraid of change and I have a horrible habit of backpedaling to my comfort zone, even though it's supposed to be something that could be beneficial.

I'm probably blowing this way out of proportion than I should be, but not telling you guys about whether or not I want to join makes me feel like I'm unintentionally ghosting you on the subject and it's been eating me alive slightly. I feel like I've just been casually handed something I thought I had to earn and now that I have it, i'm chewing off my own hands over my own fear of the responsibility I think it comes with. I seek power only to cower from it once I have it. (anxiety sucks, doesn't it)

Another big thing is that I despise giving out my email. I hate dealing with it, I hate acknowledging that I have one, why does everything need to have my email just let me at the thing I want- *ahem* and apparently Discord falls under that. I've always wanted to have discord friends, it's was another shitty bucket list thing, I just never thought that I could be given the opportunity to do so and well.... you just read how I felt about that.

I've might have also given myself decision fatigue over "If I DID have Discord, where should I keep it?" I have a phone, I almost had to install the app anyway because I've been recently visiting a D&D group at a time where our Dm is having to telecommute at this point in time (We settled on a different solution and used someone else's appliance) But Mom is already on my ass about "Being on my phone too much" and "Its old, I should get it replaced" and "When are you going to do something different with you're life". And I don't know where or how to use this "Communal Live Canvas" Thing Iceclew's been asking me to try, but if it involves art, I draw better on my phone.

But If I put it on my laptop, where I keep my Tumblr access in, I can regulate how often I'm on the site. Mom doesn't know about my account (I think? She's seen the password for it but hasn't commented on why I have it? I'M NOT GOING TO TELL HER ABOUT IT. last thing I want to ever hear about is a lecture) But the decision cycles back around to "If I put it here, do I want to bite the bullet and sacrifice potential quality over how I could express my thoughts even though I have next to no artistic talent."

I guess I should go about this like a rational person and ask questions, but at this point I don't know If I'm just hunting for excuses to procrastinate.

I know this is hella long but I just thought I'd let you guys in on why haven't said anything on the subject and my head-space on why I'm like this, even thought this is probably just stupid and I'm overreacting and I don't want this to seem like a cry for help or anything. It's just that I'm so super thankful for meeting you two and how both of you really like listening to what I say and I'm just kinda overwhelmed at how easy this was. I honestly thought it would be harder to make friends online and I'm just reeling a little and in a kinda "Deer in headlights" mentality right now.

Blue, I'm very much aware that you said "No pressure" on the discord thing and I appreciate that, this is just how I am. I treat every minor decision like I'm the government, Taken six months too long with a shit ton of paperwork that could have just been settled as a gentleman's hand shake.

Ice, I really like the idea of working with you on something, but you might have to elaborate on how that works before I can feel okay enough to make a decision. I have a lot of irrational fears over things and exposing myself to new mechanics on the internet is one of them. I'm working on them, I just need Time and the universe hates it when I ask for it, that's all.

[turtlenovela]

The Blue Pragraphs - 49 Kids and NOT Counting

Welcome to the Blue Paragraphs! These are parts I cut from my fanfic's final draft, since I felt they were slowing down the story's flow in the long run. They always contain additional information that may or may NOT appear in the story again

If you'd like to have a glass of sunshine, enjoy banter, digs at TLC shows and want to spent a little more time with the whole Hamato clan and Barry at Todd’s place, this is for you

Chapter 9 ½ - 49 Kids And NOT Counting!

"Here," Todd said, serving the Hamato clan his famous lemonade, "after a glass of sunshine," the world will look a little brighter."

"Blasphemy!" Draxon shouted, hitting the tabletop with his fist that the lemonade glasses jumped. "This kretin defiles my creation with inferior-science-based mass production!"

"Barry, whatcha talkin' about?" April asked.

"The turtles," he explained, pointing at them, "they are a state of the art masterpiece, maybe even my magnum opus! And this disgusting individual just steals their unique DNA and copies them in the most profane way possible."

April made a sour face at this utter lack of empathy for her surrogate brothers. "Getting copied and mass produced is something every brand should get used to," she said, callously smiling."

Also it's outrageous," Splinter complained, "that this dweep dares to break our family tradition. "Yes, I might have stuck to these traditions quite loosely, but my grandchildren being about to be taught kung fu instead of ninjitsu? Unthinkable!"

"This is the only thing that worries you?" April hissed, her eye twitching. 

"I think," Todd said, "these kids should decide themselves what kind of martial art they want to learn. Then he patted Draxum on the back. "Well, not everybody can perform great alchemy. So they had to settle for cloning. I'm sorry your work got copied. But now the precious little beans are there and need our love and care."

Thanks to Mickey, Todd was still blissfully unaware of the true crime background of this whole affair. Just like Casey Jr., who also sat at the table at Todd’s puppy rescue station.

Raph sighed: "Now we'd need someone like you, Todd, but who's as great at kid rescue as you are at puppy rescue."

"Oh," Todd stated, "you have a master architect among you."

"That’s not the problem," Donatello said, trying to repress a flattered smile. "Sure, I can build new hideouts any time. But what we need is funding to fully and constantly care for our kids."

"Oh yes," Todd agreed, "funding is always a problem."

Raph cleared his throat. "Talking about funding," he said and eyed his second oldest brother suspiciously: "Raph might not be the brightest candle on the cake, but you can’t even make me believe  that you build all your shiny tech from scratch. You must have your own way of funding - probably one neither pops nor I would approve of." 

Don tried to look as hapless and innocent as possible. 

"I always suspected that, but was afraid of asking," Leo remarked, frightened. 

"Well, uh- I recycle a lot and due to the mystic tech powers I developed, I additionally could cut down on costs-," Tello stuttered sheepishly. 

"Purple", his father began in a benign tone, "I won’t judge you, when you tell us how you earn money."

"Dad, he doesn't fall for that anymore," Leo remarked dully.

Dee's expression turned from anxious to annoyed and he informed his fam: "Let me tell you this: I can either afford funding for my inventions OR provide for our kids. And I don't think such sacrifice would be in your interest."

Mickey changed the topic. "Why don't we sign a contract with TLC?" He suggested.

"Very funny," Leo said. 

"No, for real!" Mike stated. "I mean, think about it! Sure, they exploit people. But they helped these huge weirdo families to make a living, pay for surgeries and stuff. Also they loooooooove teenage parents, fundamentalists and unhealthy family structures in general. And all of this is yesterday's snow compared to reichsburgers, mutants, yokai -"

"It's official now," Lee interrupted him, "Miguel has lost his marbles."

"Aw man!" Mickey moaned. "Maybe such a program would help people to see more in us than just monsters."

"Yeah, completely broken freaks for instance," April remarked. 

Leon sighed, looking at Casey, who just raised his eyebrows. "Currently," he began, "I only see one way to start our own fund."

"Not another one of your fishy and highly dangerous getting-rich-fast schemes!" Splinter protested. 

"Dad, these were getting famous fast schemes," his son corrected him. "Over the years April applied for so many jobs, I stopped counting. And Casey and his mom work as camp counselors. Sooo the most obvious solution for us is to get jobs."

This speech caused a little bedlam: Mickey stuffed a thermometer in Leo's mouth. Raph complained: "But we already have a job: to keep New York's criminals at bay!"

"Do you even know the horrors of teenage work places?!" Donnie cried and then whispered: "Customers - you have to talk to them and smile!!" He ended his sentence yelling in panic.

"You're aware that even if all four of you start to work hard," April pointed out, "you'll be far from providing for 49 kids. "We have to start somewhere," Leo replied. "We can't sit around and wait for a benevolent sponsor."

"Okay," April said, "who are you and what have you done to Leo?"

Only Casey proudly smiled at his former sensei.