#and she almost never offers me anything its all just for my brother and NO ONE ELSE

[thestamp3d3]

having a man baby for a brother is the worst thing that can happen to a girl

[2thestars-andbeyond]

Little Rabbit

Summary: Y/n is the youngest Archeron sister. While training with Rhysand, she winnows herself to the Autumn Court by mistake and finds someone she can't seem to get off her mind..

"Just close your eyes and try again." Rhysand told me, sternly. I'm sure he was getting pretty fed up with me and my training. Plus we'd been at this for a good three hours now. "Close your eyes and concentrate."

"That's what I've been doing Rhys! And its not working!" I took a deep breath trying not to lose my temper. "I just end up five feet from where i'm standing."

Winnowing was hard and learning how to use the power was draining. Taking a seat on a near by stump, I wiped away a stay tear that started to roll down my cheek.

"Winnowing is a power not all Fae have. It takes a good deal of concentration and strength. try again Y/N. Try to think of another spot in the woods."

All the woods looked the same. Every tree the same type of maple. Every blade of grass the same shade of green.

I rolled my eyes at Rhys. "I'm not sure why you have so much faith in me winnowing anyway. I'm obviously not that good at it so i'm not sure why it matters so much."

Rhys took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face. "Y/n, I know you can do this. Close your eyes and try again. Focus on the tree that Azriel is standing next to."

Az just nodded at me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I always loved being in the woods especially during autumn. All the colors and cool breezes. Soon, in my minds eye, the tree behind the Shadow Singer had vibrant orange leaves and a cool breeze blew my hair. I ripped my eyes open.

"You've got to be kidding me." I whispered in disbelief. I had done it. I had finally winnowed, right into the Autumn Court...

"I knew that asshole was up to something" Rhysand had been trying for the past week to get me to winnow. I hope he's happy now.

"I know you can do it" I mocked my brother in law as I walked through the unfamiliar forest of Autumn. I knew it was a matter of time before Beron's sentries found me. Rhysands "I know you can do it" is probably going to get beheaded or whatever they do to trespassers in this Court.

I heard shuffling in the nearby bushes. I stopped so abruptly I almost fell. "Please don't be a bear or a wolf."

I let out a sigh of relief as a squirrel jetted out of the bush.

"Are you lost little rabbit?"

I whirled around and bumped right into a red haired male.

"Shit." I murmured under my breath, finding it hard to find my voice.

He smirked. "You are far from home. Don't worry. I already informed Rhysand."

I had never met this male before. So how did he know who I was? He took a step around means continued down the path.

"I do have to say that it is pretty impressive that you winnowed this far away from Night. nearly four courts away. Come. We will meet your high lord somewhere safe. Beron has eyes and ears everywhere. Sometimes I fear the creatures are on his side as well."

I ran to catch up with him. "Wait so you aren't going to turn me in?"

He chuckled. "Why would I do that? Hmm?" His amber eyes met mine.

His gaze was intense and nearly took my breath away. "I-it's just that i'm trespassing, correct? I was sure that would be punishable in such a cutthroat Court?"

"Oh, it is. Usually anyway, but I told Beron i'd check out the breech in the border."

We walked for what seemed like forever. Passing by tree after tree, all of them different it seemed, unlike the forest back home. Every tree different shades of Autumn colors. More vibrant than I had ever seen back in the night Court or the human lands for that matter. Before I knew it we had reached a clearing.

"Take my hand" The male told me. "Rhysand waits for you in the clearing."

I gave him a skeptical look, "Ahh. I don't see anything inside the clearing"

"Just trust me." He replied offering me his hand.

"How do I know I can trust you? I don't even know you."

"I would never let any harm come to you, Y/n." I gasped as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his chest. The smell of crackling fire and spice engulfed me as he winnowed us into the clearing.

Rhysand, Feyre and Az appeared before me. Azriel, noting how close the male held me, drew his knife.

"Calm down Shadow Singer, she is unharmed. Aren't you little rabbit?" He asked, bringing my chin up so that my eyes met his again.

Azriel growled. but the male let me go. Taking one more look at his face, I ran into my older sisters arms. "I'm okay. " I assured them.

"Thank you Eris for keeping her safe." Rhys stated.

"It is strange though. That she winnowed so far from home." Eris mused. "Makes one wonder what drew her to a court she had never stepper foot into." With that, he disappeared.

Shocked was an understatement. The male that had saved me was the Heir of Autumn. the male every one talks so much shit about. And all I could think about was how his warm hand felt wrapped around my wrist. How his finger had gently raised my chin, how his amber eyes seemed to darken as they bore into mine.

[wileys-russo]

all i can picture in my mind is jealous bf less who KNOWS she shouldn’t be jealous, and she’s just gone quiet bc she doesn’t wanna say anything. and then that creates a whole thing with r who feels like maybe she’s don’t something wrong. and then it all blows up and leads to a guilt confession from less about why she was quiet

shut down II a.russo

"-well baby i think that was quite literally everyone. you have now met my entire family!" you smiled softly, having pulled your girlfriend away to a quiet corner of the back deck, your cousins wedding kicking off in full force behind you.

"i can't promise i remember half their names love i won't lie." alessia chuckled, hands finding yours as you played with her fingers. "i don't know half their names and to some of them i'm their husbands, sisters, best friends second half cousin on my dads side." you joked, coming from such a huge family did have its challenges.

"you look so beautiful tonight amore mio." the striker sighed, the way her eyes lovingly roamed your body making your cheeks flush red. "as do you baby, the matching colour scheme was a nice touch." you smiled, hands fussing with the suit vest which adorned her top half, the taller girl wearing a two piece vest and pants set that perfectly matched your dress.

"my favourite part about this dress will be watching it fall to the floor later." alessia almost purred, lips ghosting yours as you raised an eyebrow at her suggestive tone. "mm and my favourite part of those suit pants will be watching them fly across the room later, much later." you teased, leaning in as if to kiss her but pulling away at the last minute.

"come love, we should get back inside." you smiled knowingly at the look on her face, taking a few steps away and offering her your hand, wiggling your fingers. "just you wait." alessia warned with a smirk tugging at her lips, accepting your hand and allowing you to pull her back inside the venue.

as soon as the two of you stepped inside you were both whisked away into the hurry and flurry of the dance floor, twirled around by distant relatives as your heart warmed to watch alessia dance with your neice.

"well hello stranger." you jumped at a pair of hands landing on your waist. "oh my god ellie? hey!" you gasped at your childhood neighbour, pulling her into a tight hug, missing the way your girlfriends eyes instantly locked onto you from across the room.

alessia knew she shouldn't be jealous. you'd never given her any reason to be, you showered her with your love and attention whenever she wanted it and alessia knew you would never ever cheat, that's not who you were.

so then why she felt her eyes burn and her stomach tighten at the unfamiliar girls hands all over you, the way her eyes roamed your face and subtly dropped down to your exposed cleavage, the way she picked you up and twirled you round.

that was her job, you were her girl, only her hands could touch you like that and only her arms could wrap around you and protect you from the world.

but she was tugged from her jealous haze by a small hand pulling at her pants, your neice holding up her hands expectantly as alessia's face softened, twirling the little girl around who squealed happily, the noise catching your attention as you glanced over ellie's shoulder, face softening at the sight.

"come on! we have so much to catch up on." alessia glanced up to check on you, having made sure you were in her sights all night, so alarm bells rang in her head as she looked around the room trying to spot you.

"hey oli, save me a dance for later?" she knelt down and spoke to your neice who nodded happily before running off after her brother as alessia continued her search for you.

she finally found you sat at your seat on your assigned table, ellie sitting in alessia's place as the two of you chattered away without a care. "oh! here she is." you perked up as you spotted your girlfriend making her way over.

"so you're the infamous girlfriend. hi! i'm ellie." your friend stood in alessia's path toward you, pulling her into a surprisingly sudden hug as alessia returned the gesture though a little more awkwardly.

alessia was quick to sit down in her rightful seat, ellie moving to the vacant chair on your other side as the two of you resumed conversation, alessia's hand moving to rest somewhat protectively on your leg.

as the conversation continued the blonde found herself struggling more and more to ignore the unwarranted jealousy bubbling up inside her. ellie was absolutely lovely and alessia detested her for it because it even more so added to the fact that alessia had no right to feel this way.

and yet with every laugh she pulled from you, every little inside joke you two shared or funny memory you reflected on, every little subtle touch of your hand or your face as she’d grab at you with a grin, alessia’s stomach coiled further and her grip on her drink would tighten.

she felt isolated from you despite being sat right by your side, she wanted to be pressed up against you on the dancefloor, her making you laugh and her whispering sweet things in your ear as the two of you swayed and stole kisses inbetween each song.

but she wasn’t, and that’s not to say you were purposely excluding her from the conversation with your friend, quite the opposite actually if anything it was alessia who was isolating herself.

knowing she didn’t have the right to feel this way but unable to ignore or move past the reality that she did in fact feel this way, alessia shut down and switched off.

you’d continually try to pull her into the conversation, wether it be you highlighting her varied achievements both on and off the pitch, or recommending a new restaurant the two of you had recently been to.

you’d tried a multitude of different ways to get your girlfriend to engage and yet each time she would just smile politely or give an answer with no more than a few words, going back to sipping on her drink as her eyes avoided yours.

you didn’t fail to notice when her touch slipped away, her hand moving off your knee to rest in her lap, inching away as you tried to reach out for her again, a small frown painted on your features at the rejection.

at first you felt worried, trying to maintain conversation with ellie whilst also ticking over and over in your mind and memory if you’d done anything to upset the taller girl beside you who looked like she wished she was anywhere else but.

but then when your countless attempts to rope her in to engaging with you failed, your worry turned into frustration which was very close to boiling over into anger.

“im just going to go to the toilet and freshen upa bit. babe come with me?” you left her no choice, your voice seemingly sweet but your girlfriend instantly caught onto the slight tone of malice which lay beneath its initial layer.

apologising to ellie who waved you off and stood to go and mingle, you grabbed alessia’s hand and all but dragged her away from the table.

“what the hell was that? why are you being so rude?” you questioned once the two of you were safely locked inside the toilet, thankfully no one else in a single cubicle to interrupt the fast brewing argument.

“i wasn’t!” alessia shook her head, again avoiding your eyes as you huffed. “really? then why do you look like you’d be anywhere else but here with me?” your voice cracked slightly at the end, emotions betraying the tough facade you were trying to play into as your girlfriends eyes snapped to yours at the waver.

“baby i want nothing more than to be here with you, nothing makes me happier or prouder than having you on my arm and by my side both at events and in life, i promise.” the blondes hands were quick to settle themselves either side of your face, placing a reassuringly tender kiss to your lips.

“then why were you being so quiet and stand-offish at the table?” you frowned, the striker letting out a pensive sigh and dropping her hands from your face. “it doesn’t matter.” alessia sighed, dragging her hands down her face as you cocked your head curiously.

“it matters to me. did I do something wrong?” you asked quieter now, insecurity starting to hint it’s way through the fortress of your mind. “what? no amore mio i promise, it’s absolutely nothing you did.” she assured quickly as your frowned deepened.

“then talk to me, please.” you requested, the concerned look in your eyes enough to cause alessia’s heart to crack. “its really nothing, it’s silly.” alessia sighed, tilting her head back as you stayed quiet, urging her on with a pointed gaze.

“okay. i was jealous of ellie being round you and i knew i had absolutely no right to be and she was actually quite a lovely girl so I sort of just…shut up and shut down?” alessia winced at the admission, your face softening at her words.

“lessi. you’re right you have no reason at all to be jealous!” you assured, arms reaching up to loop around her neck as you stared up at the taller girl. “just seeing her hands on you and her making you laugh and all the little inside jokes, well it wound me up a little.” alessia muttered much quieter as again your smile grew.

“you really are the sweetest you know that right?” your nails traced lines on the back of her neck. “see this? i’m yours baby. yours and yours only!” you gestured to the small golden A necklace which had hung round your neck for months now.

“but its cute you got so worked up. next time just talk to me about it, after all you’re normally quite good with your mouth.” you teased, grinning as the look in the blondes eyes shifted slightly.

“you know mi bella ragazza, you did say i’d find that dress on the floor later…well would you look at that? it’s later.”

[stevie-petey]

episode four: the body

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal.  “Hey! Henderson!” “Jesus Christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you.  His unexpected shouting causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you.  “Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”

Summary: you basically have a "no babe don't cry over ur dead brother ur so sexy" moment with jonathan, hopper plays mr love doctor (cute date idea: coffin shopping), and somehow nancy wheeler makes you realize that you're a horrible babysitter and an even bigger idiot. meanwhile: steve harrington is frustratingly charming.

Rating: general but plenty of cursing as usual.

Warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

Words: 8k

Before you swing in: hello ! happy eve of a spending time with loved ones, however ya choose to celebrate or not celebrate and all that jazz. i hope y'all are well and doing okay :) a LOT happens in this chapter, so buckle up. so many feelings and revelations my god. also this chapter is one i really loved writing purely because i got to explore more of steve and reader so ,,, ya welcome ! (hopefully i was able to clear up jonathans thoughts and how he processes, i really want it to come across as someone hurt and overwhelmed rather than just him being cranky lmao). anyways, enjoy !!

-

It’s a quiet morning.

You roll over, the sunlight streaming through your curtains, and for a moment you forget. It’s a blissful moment, sweet naivety that strokes your cheek and coaxes your eyes open. As you throw your arms over your head and stretch, last night’s events haven’t caught up to you quite yet. 

Then you feel Jonathan’s body next to yours and for a moment you’re confused. He never sleeps in your bed whenever he spends the night, being ever the gentleman. No matter how many times you offer, he always insists on respecting your mother’s wishes and sleeping on the giant beanbag chair within your room, and it always makes your heart warm. 

Your mother had specifically bought the beanbag for Jonathan when you were thirteen. He had been spending more and more nights at your home, sneaking in through your window to avoid his parents fighting. At first he would simply fall asleep on your carpet, despite your many reassurances that he could sleep in your bed, so when your mom unexpectedly barged into your room one morning and saw him lying face down on the ground, she freaked. 

Once you had explained everything to her (with Jonathan’s permission), she had shoved you guys into her car, dropped him off at his house, and then found the beanbag at a garage sale for $10. 

“This way, he’ll have a place to sleep that’s soft and cozy, away from my young daughter,” she had said during the drive home. You had covered your face in embarrassment at her implication, but you were also incredibly proud to call her your mom at that moment. She may be overbearing at times, but she was the kindest woman you’ve ever met. 

You rub your eyes and glance at the bean bag that sits between your bed and wall, its dusty blue color almost glowing in the early morning light. Then you glance at Jonathan, who has woken up before you, and notice the redness in his eyes and the dark circles now darker than ever. 

Then it all comes rushing back to you. 

Will’s body in the quarry. 

Holding your brother as he mourned his friend. 

El, so quiet and shy and sweet, running away after your cruel dismissal. 

Jonathan showing up to your window hours later, broken and devastated. 

Then, late into the night, the two of you falling asleep, side by side in your bed, both needing each other more than ever before. 

The two of you get ready without saying anything. You hand Jonathan some spare clothes of his that you keep in a drawer before giving him some space as you go and take a shower. You spend longer than usual getting ready, but you pay no attention to the clock. There’s no way you’re going to school today. You’re not leaving Jonathan alone for even a second. 

Jonathan finishes getting ready before you do and waits in your room. Neither of you have said anything yet, last night being too fresh in your memories, but words aren’t needed between the two of you. 

You take his hand and lead him into your kitchen and wordlessly hand him a banana. He stares at you, and you stare back, silently challenging him to decline the food. He needs to eat. You’ve noticed how thin he’s gotten with everything happening. 

He sighs, knowing he won’t win this fight, and takes a bite out of the banana in a mocking manner, but you’re just relieved he’s eating. 

You grab your own breakfast before writing a note for your mom, informing her that you’ll be with Jonathan today and promising to make up any missed assignments as soon as you can. Then you quietly go into Dustin’s room to check up on him, but his bed is empty. You glance at his alarm clock and note the early hour, he doesn’t normally leave for school for another thirty minutes, which makes you frown. 

Where the hell did the kid run off to?

An uneasy feeling settles over you, but you don’t have time to question anything. Knowing Dustin, he ran off to school earlier than usual to see his friends and distract himself from last night. While your mom offered you both to stay home for the rest of the week due to Will’s death, neither of you have ever been good at staying put and dealing with your emotions.

Wherever your brother is, you know he needs his space.

Once everything is settled, you join Jonathan in his car and drive to his place. While he never explicitly asked you to this morning, you know that you’re going to his house with him to help him deal with his mother and the funeral preparations. 

He doesn’t have to ask, and you don’t have to tell him that you’ll help. 

You both just know. 

About halfway to his place, Jonathan finally speaks. 

“The cops say that Will crashed his bike and fell into the quarry,”

“Jonathan, we don’t have to talk about it right now-”

“My mom doesn’t believe that he’s dead. She-she insists that he’s in the walls, that he can speak through-through… Christmas lights.”

His voice shakes as he speaks, and you can’t tell if it’s due to grief or anger. 

“Will is dead and my mom chooses to believe that there’s some monster in our walls that took him.”

“A monster?” you think about El and her powers and the fear on the boys’ faces when she pulled out the Demogorgon piece. Then you remember the other night at the Byers’ home when Joyce came running outside as the lights were flickering wildly. Her fear had been genuine. 

“A fucking monster that’s hiding in our walls. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t listen, Y/N. I tried talking to her, to calm her down, but she just…” His words fade off, and he clenches his jaw as tightens his hands around the steering wheel. 

You’re not sure what to say. It’s a tough situation, a fucking heartbreaking one, and it’s all so unfair. Jonathan needs his mom, but his mom needs Will. 

You rest your hand behind his head and allow your fingers to rub circles against his skin. He leans into your touch, and for now this is all you can do. 

The state of the Byers’ home has only gotten worse since the last time you were there. There’s now letters painted on the wall and string lights placed all throughout the house. There’s also clothes in random corners and trash thrown around. 

Jonathan had been staying in this house alone, watching his mother spiral. Your stomach twists with guilt. 

You should’ve been there more for him, but instead you allowed your petty need to help everyone distract you from what’s important. 

Joyce is passed out on the couch with an ax clutched between her hands, which breaks your heart even more. Jonathan walks over to wake her up and you give the two of them some privacy as you head into the kitchen to make Joyce some breakfast. 

Their fridge is barren, but you aren’t surprised. You make do with the few eggs you find and get to work; it isn’t much, but it’ll have to do. As you prepare breakfast, you notice a stack of Will’s drawings on the kitchen table, which causes you to gag with remorse. 

There’s still so much of Will within these walls, his entire childhood still locked inside, untouched, and yet the house lacks his presence. 

He’s gone. 

– 

You wait with Hopper in the morgue waiting room, nervously tapping your foot and frantically trying to distract yourself with a comic. The words blur together in your head and the images float around. You can’t focus on anything. For once, Spidey’s quips and banter can’t distract you from reality. 

Not only are you incredibly worried for Joyce and Jonathan, but the thought of Will’s body being a wall away from you sends chills down your spine. You can’t imagine what’s happening behind the doors, and you’re secretly relieved that you’ll never know. 

“What’s taking so long?” Hopper’s voice breaks you from your thoughts.

You put your comic down and listen, figuring that it’s best if you’re caught up on everything so that you can store away any useful information for later. 

The front desk lady sighs. “Well, everything’s been a bit chaotic around here without Gary.”

This catches Hopper’s attention. “Without Gary?”

“I thought you knew. Those men from State, they… they sent Gary home last night.”

Now this catches your attention. Why would the State replace the town’s coroner? 

“So who did the autopsy?” 

“Someone from State.” 

Hopper looks at you, almost as if to ask if you’re also hearing this, and you give him a slight nod. It’s odd, really damn odd. 

“Why would they send someone for a little boy?” You ask Hopper, but he only shakes his head in response. 

In the back of your mind, you think about what El had warned you of. The bad men, the people she has to hide from… it didn’t make sense at the time, but now…

Your thoughts are cut off as Jonathan runs out the door, his hand over his mouth, and you immediately get up to help him outside. He throws up against the wall outside, and you wince at the smell. You’ve never been good with people getting sick, but Jonathan needs you right now, so you rub soothing circles on his back as he throws up. Once he’s done, you head back inside and wait for Joyce. 

You offer Jonathan a tissue before coaxing him to rest his head on your shoulder. Having nothing else to do, yet urgently wanting to help, you begin to read him some panels from your comic. He doesn’t say anything, so you take it as a sign to keep going. Your voice is hoarse from all your crying, but you read aloud anyways. 

Hopper watches your interaction with a small interest. You don’t notice his curious eyes and the way they seem to glint with sincerity. In his eyes, the two of you will get together soon enough. 

After a couple minutes, Hopper finally asks Jonathan how Joyce is holding up. The boy straightens up, but grabs your hand to steady himself, and responds as best as he can. He explains the lights, the letters on the wall, everything. 

“She’s had anxiety problems in the past, but this…? I don’t know.” He takes a shaky breath, and you draw reassuring patterns on the back of his hand. “I’m worried it could be… god, I don’t know.”

“She’s grieving,” you remind him, and he nods. 

“Yeah, she’s grieving, but she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay; my mom, she’s tough.”

“Like Spider-Man,” you say, though you don’t really mean to. You’re tired and the words just slip out, but Jonathan begins to laugh. 

“Yeah, like Spider-Man, you’re right. Thanks, bug.” 

“Anytime, bee.” 

Jonathan smiles at you, still softly laughing, and it’s then that you realize. He hasn’t laughed in days, he’s hardly even smiled, and yet here he is, smiling at the stupid nickname you gave him and laughing at the stupid joke you didn’t even mean to say; you realize you’d do anything to get him to laugh again, to give you that smile that he’s only ever reserved for you. He squeezes your hand and his eyes shine for a moment with a familiar warmness that has always made you weak. 

It hits you like a cold, cruel wave on a harsh winter day. 

You’re in love with Jonathan. 

Fuck.

It’s horrible timing, and you feel sick with guilt for realizing that you love your best friend merely hours after his brother has died, but now it’s all you can think about. 

You love him, you love him more than you’ve ever loved anything before, but you can’t tell him. It wouldn’t be fair, and you don’t have the time. 

You’re thankful when Hopper begins to talk again, reiterating that Joyce is tough, so that you have the time to process your newfound feelings. 

Then Joyce comes crashing through the door, screaming about how whatever is in the other room isn’t Will, ignoring everyone who tells her to calm down. Both you and Jonathan stand up to calm her down, your comic dropping to the ground in the process, but she doesn’t listen and instead runs outside. 

“Mom!” Jonathan follows after her. 

You sigh and tuck your hair behind your ears before picking up the comic. You know that Jonathan needs to be alone with Joyce right now, give them some privacy, it’s a personal matter. More personal than anything else, and yet you also selfishly don’t want to be near him for a few moments so you can collect yourself as well. 

As you’re gathering your things, Hopper clears his throat. 

“Do you love him?”

You freeze, having not expected such a personal question. You’ve only just realized your feelings for him, how the hell has Hopper already figured it out? “What does it matter? His brother is dead and his mom is losing it.”

Hopper rubs his hand over his face, giving you a warning look. “But do you love the kid?”

It’s the way he says it, like it means life or death, that has you respond, “I do.”

“Take care of him, then.” He looks you in the eyes as he says it, urging you to understand the weight of his words, and you do. 

You’ve heard about how his daughter had died and his wife divorced him soon after. They’d only ever been rumors to you, but now you know that they’re true. He’s telling you to take care of Jonathan, that your love for him means that you have to take care of him in a way that no one else can. 

In a way, you suppose that you and Hopper aren’t so different after all, and you gain a new sense of respect for the man. 

You swallow deeply and nod at him before excusing yourself to follow after Jonathan and Joyce. 

– 

The mother and son in question are a few blocks down the street, Joyce waving her son away as he follows her with the car. 

You sigh. 

This day definitely sucks. 

Running up to them is a pain in the ass, honestly. You get that you gave them some privacy, but damn. Did Jonathan seriously have to take the car as well? 

When you finally catch up, he’s parking. “Hey, what are you-” 

He doesn’t spare you a glance as he turns the engine off and runs after his mom. 

“Seriously?” You groan, clutching at a stitch in your side from running. Usually you’re a great runner, actually choosing to go for a run whenever you’re particularly stressed out or anxious. However with the shitshow that this week has been, you haven’t gone on your morning run in a while and you’re starting to feel the effects of being out of practice. 

Joyce, being surprisingly fast, is hard to catch up with, but you do your best as Jonathan sprints ahead of you. When he finally reaches her, he grabs at her jacket with a determined look in his eyes. 

You hang back, now regretting the fact that you left the coroner’s office in the first place. 

“Mom, stop!” 

“Just go home, Jonathan.”

“No, this is not an okay time for you to shut down.”

“Shut down… what-” The confusion in Joyce’s eyes is enough to make you feel Jonathan’s frustration as well. You feel for the woman, you really do, but she has another son to worry about. Jonathan is still here, he’s lost his own baby brother, he needs his mom now more than ever.

But Joyce, too lost in her own grief and desperation, can’t see that. 

“We have to deal with this, mom. We have to deal with the funeral!” You’ve never heard Jonathan raise his voice at his mom before, but after days of begging for her attention, you’re proud of him for defending himself.

The word “funeral” seems to snap Joyce out of her daze and once again she goes on her tangent about how Will’s body isn’t really back at the morgue, that he’s still alive, and Jonathan’s anger in his voice makes you ache. 

As he and his mom continue to yell at one another, a few nosy people in the town area stand and watch. They whisper to each other, no doubt about how Will’s death has made Joyce Byers crazy, and you kick a few rocks at them. 

“Fuck off! At least pretend that you aren’t a bunch of nosy assholes like most decent people do.” A woman sneers at you, but you wave your arms above your head, “Oh! Scary! Get fucked!” 

Eventually they do as they’re told and walk away from the screaming mother and son, which pleases you. 

You really hope that random lady wasn’t a patron of Bookstrordinary though. 

“Yeah, well, while you’re talking to the lights, Y/N and I will be planning a funeral for Will!” Jonathan’s voice is laced with bitterness as he screams at his mother, breaking your heart even more. “I’m not letting him sit in that freezer another day!” 

Joyce storms off, but you notice that her shoulders shake with tears as she leaves. 

It’s such a devastating situation, and while you’re also frustrated with the way she’s been treating Jonathan, you also know that maybe her craziness isn’t exactly “crazy”. El is still out there, even if you’re not sure where, and you think about how she was able to control the comic book and the game pieces. The static electricity you felt in the air when she used her powers, the same static you felt at the Byers’ home a few nights ago when Joyce came running outside with the lights flashing and Will’s song playing on the radio.

But then you think about how El promised that Will was alive. 

He isn’t; you see his dead body every time you close your eyes. 

So really, what is there to believe?

Lost in thought, you don’t notice Jonathan walking towards you until he grasps at your arm and flings you along back to the car with him. He’s breathing heavily and you notice that he’s shaking. He’s in no condition to drive. 

As you near the car you quickly reach around and grab his keys from his pocket before running over to the driver’s side and throwing yourself into the seat. Jonathan hates when you drive the car, not because you’re a bad driver, but because some part of him truly believes it’s impolite to make a girl drive. 

As cute as you think his chivalry is, today you couldn’t give more of a damn. 

Jonathan stands outside your door. “Y/N-”

“Nope, no time to argue, Byers. Get in.” 

“But-” 

“In.”

He does as he’s told, albeit with some attitude, but eventually the two of you are off. Without having to ask, you drive to the local funeral home. While you and Jonathan are similar in many ways, the one thing that pulls you together is planning. You both cling onto the stability that planning provides, and right now Jonathan is clinging onto his responsibilities for Will’s funeral.

Like he told his mom earlier, you and him have a funeral to plan. 

The funeral home is closer to the edge of Hawkins, so the drive is a longer one. Along the way Jonathan slowly begins to calm down, untensing his shoulders and releasing his clenched jaw. You let him take all the time he needs, thankful that for now you have some time to yourself to reflect over today’s revelation.

You love Jonathan. 

Those three words are heavy within your chest, and you almost don’t want to think about them, but you know that sooner or later you’ll have to. You glance at Jonathan, the late fall sun casts a warm glow on his face that for a brief moment brings back the boy you knew only a week ago, before everything changed. Then he turns to face you and you see the red in his eyes, his cheeks sunken in, and you know that you don’t have the time to unravel whatever you feel for him. 

He needs his best friend right now.

Jonathan’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, his voice cracking a bit from disuse. “Can we talk about yesterday?” 

You cast him a quick glance. “Yesterday?”

“Our… our fight, I guess.” 

“Oh,” you shift your hands on the steering wheel, now suddenly painfully aware of the silence within the car. “We don’t have to right now, bee. We should be focusing on the funeral arrangements.” 

Your voice catches on the word “funeral”, it still hasn’t sunk in yet that Will is really gone. 

“Bug, for the past eighteen hours all I’ve been thinking about is Will,” he takes a shaky breath and you gently place a hand on his, encouraging him to keep talking, “but when I’m not thinking about him… I’m thinking about you and what-what you said yesterday.” 

“I said a lot yesterday-” 

Jonathan gives you a pleading look. “Please just let me get this out, okay?”

You purse your lips but remain silent. 

“I will never, ever deserve you. This week and my actions have proven that. This isn’t some pathetic attempt to make you pity me, I was an asshole to you and I recognize that. You love people in a way that terrifies me, Y/N. You’re my best friend and I think I would actually die if I ever lost you.”

A snort escapes your lips, “you probably would.”

“I definitely would, but this isn’t about me. I’m so, so sorry for how I’ve been treating you lately and the fact that you’re driving me to a funeral home after watching my mom have a meltdown in the town square without even batting an eye is all the more proof that you’re too good for me.” 

“I wouldn’t say too good, but yeah. Close enough.”

“It’s more than enough, bug. That’s what terrifies me: I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to repay you for all that you’ve done for me, even before Will disappeared; you’ve been taking care of me since we were twelve.”

His words hang in the air as you allow them to wash over you. There’s so much you want to disagree with, namely the fact that he doesn't deserve you, but you know that he wouldn’t want to hear your arguments. 

Again you think about how similar the two of you are, and while you both give your all to the people that you love, your love comes freely while Jonathan has grown up believing that it comes with conditions. It’s never been a problem in your relationship until now, but you guess with how much you’ve been overcompensating for everything, the need to return it all has caught up with him. 

Finally, you speak. “You feel that you can’t accept my help because I’ve already done enough for you. Is that it?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan takes a deep breath. “I know it’s stupid, especially because I’m asking for your help right now with the funeral preparations, but…”

“I understand, but we’ll get through it,” you pull into the funeral home parking lot and turn the car off. “We always do, right?” 

“Right,” Jonathan’s smile is a weak one, but you accept it nonetheless. 

“Now, you ready to go look at children’s coffins like real men and women do?” 

He laughs at your poor attempt at a joke, but even he can admit that objectively the entire situation is morbid. “Only real best friends go coffin shopping together.” 

“My thoughts exactly, good sir.” Then, before you forget, you reach over and whack Jonathan’s head with the back of your hand. 

“Ow! What was that for?”

You shrug your shoulders, “ask Nancy.”

And with that, you unbuckle your seatbelt and head into the funeral home, trusting that Jonathan will follow eventually enough. Things aren’t exactly the same between the two of you, especially with your newfound feelings for him, but it’s a start. 

“I deserved that,” you hear Jonathan grumble, which makes you smile. 

You’ll take whatever you can get.

– 

You spot Nancy before Jonathan does. 

It wasn’t intentional, really, but the funeral home director was droning on and on about the different wood selections for coffins and finishes that you can customize and it all makes you want to throw up; the coffins before you are so small, you weren't really paying attention in the first place. 

She stands in the doorway and motions for you to get Jonathan’s attention, who is deeply focused on everything the old man is saying. A part of you wants to ignore the girl, but the scared look on her face tells you that this is something serious. 

You nudge your shoulder against Jonathan’s and point at Nancy; he excuses the two of you as you walk towards her. 

Jonathan shoves his hands in his pockets, a bit guarded. “Hey,”

“Hey, your mom, um… said you’d be here.” 

“You talked to Mrs. Byers?” You ask, feeling a sudden possessiveness over the woman. Sure, you were kind of okay sharing Jonathan with Nancy so long as she was with Harrington, but Joyce? She’s like a second mother to you.

It made you uneasy that Joyce even talked to her in the first place. 

Nancy tilts her head at you. “Yeah, it was only for a brief moment though. She seemed pretty… distracted.” 

“No shit. Her son died, Nancy.” 

The girl flinches a bit at your tone, which causes Jonathan to yank at your sleeve and shove you behind him. “Ignore her, we’ve had… Well, it’s been a long day.” 

You feel your shoulders drop and unclench your fists. “Sorry, is everything okay? Is it the boys?”

“No, they’re fine, I just,” Nancy’s eyes shoot towards you, uncertain, before directing them towards Jonathan. “Can we talk for a second?”

The photos Nancy shows you makes your blood run cold. They start with Barb sitting alone by the pool, but slowly she pulls out more and more pieces of the torn picture to create a terrifying image with a shadow-like figure looming over her friend. 

Jonathan tries to sum the shadow up to lens distortion, but you know that he’s wrong. Nancy asks more questions, trying to figure out exactly what has happened to Barb, but all you can think about is El. 

You check the time on your watch and curse. It’s late afternoon now, you’ve been gone with Jonathan since early this morning. Dustin hadn’t been in his room when you left and you stupidly assumed that he’d gone off to school. Now, seeing the picture of Barb and that thing… Something is so goddamn wrong. 

“The cops think that she ran away,” Nancy says. 

“Just like they did with Will,” you’re whispering more to yourself than to them, but Jonathan hears you anyway. 

“Maybe she did run away-” 

Nancy shakes her head. “No, she wouldn’t do that. They don’t know Barb. When I went back to Steve’s… I thought I saw something.”

Your head shoots up. “Nancy, what did you see?”

“Some weird man,” the urgence in your voice confuses the girl, but you silently push her to keep talking, “or… I don’t know what it was.”

Both you and Jonathan are quiet afterwards for very different reasons. 

He’s quiet because he probably thinks Nancy is crazy, just like his mom. 

You’re quiet because you’re currently afraid you’ve accidentally left your idiotic brother and his friends and El alone with very real monsters and possible bad men. The figure Nancy saw… El being terrified of bad people finding and hurting her…

Well shit. 

“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have come here today-”

You stop Nancy from leaving. “No, you should stay… I think,” you look at Jonathan, nervous for how he may react to what you’re about to say. “I think I might have an idea of what you saw last night. A lot has happened since Will disappeared, things that I’m still trying to understand, but I think I know where to start finding an explanation.” 

Jonathan turns to you. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Technically I did try telling you a few nights ago but then you yelled at me and threw a jacket at my face-” 

“You threw a jacket at Y/N?” Nancy asks, which you and Jonathan ignore. 

“But for now I can’t tell you anything else. I made a promise, and I’m not sure I’m right or even sane for considering it an explanation, but we need to leave. Now.”

“A promise? To who?” There’s an edge of hurt in Jonathan’s voice and you desperately wish you could explain more to him, but now isn’t the time. Not with Nancy sitting between you two and her own brother involved. You don’t want to cause any unnecessary worry for her; right now she needs to focus on Barb. You’ll wrangle in the boys, it’s your fault they’re even alone right now with El.

“I can’t exactly say who, but just trust me, okay? Again: I really hope I’m just insane and worried about nothing and that this will all be an embarrassing laugh for us later.”

“Y/N-”

“Jonathan, we need to go.” 

“‘We’?” Nancy now speaks up, seemingly fed up by your vague exchange with Jonathan.

You try to collect yourself and pretend like you have some amazing plan. “Yes, we. Jonathan will take you to the photo developing room at school and see if you can make the pictures clearer. On the way there, he’ll drop me off at home so I can grab my bike and head out.”

“And what will you be doing?” The boy asks.

“Tracking down my brother, unfortunately.” 

He gives you a doubtful look. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to just let you run off on your own without more of an explanation.” 

You know he’s right, but you just… you can’t tell him about El and the bad men yet. You can’t. Not until you know for sure what the hell is happening. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing… but just in case, I really need to find Dustin, okay?” 

I’m a really, really bad babysitter, you think. 

Jonathan opens his mouth again as if to argue, but you hold your hand up to silence him. You really don’t want to waste time fighting with him. He has to trust you on this, whether he likes it or not. 

He sighs with defeat, “Just be safe, please.”

You also really don’t want to put anyone else in danger. It’s bad enough that you allowed the boys to get dragged into this mess, but you refuse to drag your best friend in as well. But really, who knows? Maybe you’re just a regular idiot who believes in fairy tales and monsters, not some idiot who leaves three overly naive boys alone with a girl with superpowers. 

God you hope you’re just a regular idiot. 

However, if Joyce believes that Will is alive, even without the knowledge of El and her powers, then you’re sure that the boys also believe he’s alive and will inevitably go looking for him again. Alone. In the same woods Nancy saw that strange figure. 

You cast those thoughts out of your head and give Jonathan what you hope is a reassuring smile. “When am I not safe?”

You really, truly hope that you’re just an idiot, but if the photos that you just saw scare you. Before he can change his mind, you quickly reach over and snatch Jonathan’s keys from his jacket and give him a peck on the cheek before running out to his car.

“I call shotgun, Nancy!”

– 

Unsurprisingly, the drive with Nancy and Jonathan is an awkward one. Things are still a bit tense between you and him for reasons you’re not sure you can tell him about just yet, and now Nancy is in the backseat trying not to make any sound, so really it was a doomed car ride from the start. 

It’s not that you don’t like the girl, but there’s something about the way she acts around Jonathan that honestly makes you want to collapse. You know she’s with Harrington, but the tenderness Jonathan has shown her the few times they’ve interacted makes you uneasy. 

Yesterday you chalked the uneasiness to simply never sharing Jonathan before, but now you know the truth. 

You’re jealous because you’re in love with him. 

It’s a nauseating feeling. 

“So, how long have the two of you been friends?” Nancy’s question surprises you, mostly because she should already know the answer. You know she’s just trying to make conversation, but the question itself further reminds you of why the two of you had drifted apart in the first place. 

“I moved here when I was twelve, remember? Your family helped us move in.” 

“Oh, right. Sorry,” You see Nancy nervously playing with her fingers in the rearview mirror, which makes you feel bad. She’s trying, you know she is. 

“It’s fine,” you try to catch her eye, and when you do you give her a smile. “I know you probably don’t remember much from that day. It was the middle of the school year and our brothers immediately started being annoying together, so you had gone inside after only a couple minutes.” 

Nancy laughs, now remembering that day. “Didn’t Mike hold an initiation for Dustin that night?” 

“Yeah,” you laugh with her now. “That’s actually how Jonathan and I met. Remember, bee?” 

Jonathan’s smile is a soft one, a smile that makes you feel weak because you know you’re the reason it’s there. “Of course I do. We both showed up at the Wheeler’s house at the same time to pick up our brothers.” 

“And then-” 

“I answered the door.” Nancy finishes for you. 

“Yup. Ever since then, Jonathan hasn’t been able to get rid of me.” 

“It’s been horrible,” he says with a monotone voice, but it’s clear to everyone that he’s joking. 

You punch his shoulder. “You weren’t complaining when I saved you from those bullies later that week.” 

Jonathan gives you a pointed look and tries to subtly motion towards Nancy, clearly embarrassed that you've brought the bullies up in front of her. Like he wants her to think he’s someone cooler than he really is. 

Your smile vanishes. 

He wants to impress her. 

“Right, sorry,” you clear your throat and if Nancy notices your sudden mood change, she doesn’t say anything. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and remind yourself that what matters right now are the boys and El. They should be your priority, not petty boy drama. 

Luckily Jonathan pulls into your driveway not long after the abrupt conversation ending, which you’re thankful for. 

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face Nancy, and it takes everything in you to force a smile on your face. “Alright, well, this is my stop! Nancy, I’m trusting you to tell me whatever you and Jonathan find. I’d ask him to keep me updated, but I know he’ll inevitably forget.”

The girl nods at you. “You can trust me.” 

Can I?

Although you’re not exactly sure what it is that you don’t think you can trust her with. Then, your eyes drift to Jonathan and the way he’s staring at her from his own mirror, and you realize that maybe she’s not the one you should be worried about. 

“Good,” you turn to Jonathan now. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“And I’ll answer… probably.” 

“You’re so sweet to me.”

“I know, right?” 

You snort at the boy and wave goodbye to him and Nancy before getting out of the car. Your bike is in the shed, so you motion to Jonathan that he’s good to leave. When he’s sure you’re okay, he waves at you one last time and drives away. 

It feels like you’ve made a huge mistake as you watch Jonathan and Nancy leave, but you don’t have time to think about why. Dustin’s bike isn’t in the shed alongside yours, which you expected, and you have to find him. 

Your brother and his idiotic friends need you right now. 

– 

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal. 

“Henderson!”

“Jesus Christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you. 

His unexpected shouting from the other side of the road causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you. 

“Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?” 

You glare at the boy. “You are a man, I am a woman. It’s getting dark outside. What exactly made you think it’s a good idea to yell out at me?”

“Well, I mean, I called after you.” He says, so matter of factly that it makes you want to strangle him. 

You hate him. You really do.

A strand of hair has fallen in your face, so you blow it away before bothering to answer. “My apologies, you called after me and almost killed me in the process.”

Steve winks at you. “Apology accepted.” 

You stare at him, unamused and still in the middle of the damn road, and after a couple beats of silence you cock your head at the boy. “Are you going to tell me what you need or…?”

“Oh,” Steve coughs, as if startled by your question. “Honestly I didn’t really have a plan when I called after you. I just kinda did, so…” 

“Right, well.” You clench your jaw in annoyance. Why are you even surprised that Harrington has wasted your time? “This was fun, let’s never do it again sometime!”

You ride off on your bike, trying to quickly get up the hill so that you can get to the Wheeler’s before it gets too dark to see. The hill is brutal and it’s almost embarrassing how long it’s taking you to get up it, and as you’re huffing and dripping in sweat, headlights come up from behind you. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groan. 

Steve’s car is now right next to you, the fucker having done a complete u-turn to follow after you. His window is still rolled down and he has one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging out his window. 

“Hello again, Henderson.” 

“I never said hello back to you.” 

“C’mon, at least pretend to be happy to see me.”

You let out another groan as you continue to struggle up the hill. “I physically cannot do that, sorry.” 

Steve, ever the comedian, responds, “It doesn’t seem like you can physically get up this hill either.” 

You don’t give him the satisfaction of laughing, but you’re a bit annoyed that his quip was funny. What a jackass, honestly. 

“Henderson,” your silence doesn’t deter the boy, “just get in the damn car already.”

Once again you almost crash into the BMW, this time because of your complete shock at his request.

“What?”

He gives you a look as if you’re the insane one in this situation. “You’re sweatier than I am after basketball, and at the rate you’re going I’d say you’ll reach your destination in about three to five business days.”

You stare at him, speechless. 

He stares back at you with a smirk on his smug little face, knowing that he’s won the argument. “Get in the car and I’ll throw your bike in the back.” 

You do as he says, your mind completely blank and still taken aback. Sweatier than him after basketball? There’s no way that’s true, and also who says that to someone they barely even know? As if you’re really that sweaty-

You see your reflection in his car mirror and wince. 

Okay, so maybe you’re a little sweaty. 

Fuck Steve Harrington. 

The boy in question tosses your bike in the trunk as you hesitantly get in the car. He watches as you sit yourself down and laughs. “It’s a car, Henderson. It won’t bite.” 

“Yeah, but you might.” You slap a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the implications of your words. 

Steve raises an eyebrow at you as he turns the car back on. “Careful there, last I checked you’re a taken lady.”

The embarrassment you previously felt is gone, now replaced with your usual annoyance when it comes to Steve. You think about what he did yesterday to Jonathan’s camera, the cruelty in his eyes as he watched the thing shatter onto the ground. He didn’t show any remorse, and while you understand that he had been defending his girlfriend, he had taken it too far. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that Jonathan and I are just friends?” 

“Please,” Steve huffs with amusement, “the two of you have been inseparable for years. Besides, no way a guy like Byers can just be friends with a girl like you. Not scientifically possible.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “What’s ‘a girl like you’ supposed to mean?” Then another thought occurs to you, “Also, you didn’t even know my name until this week, so don’t go acting like you know my relationship with Jonathan.”

“Relax, Henderson. It was a compliment. All I meant is that you’re decently pretty, all things considered, so I wouldn’t blame Byers if he was in love with you. It’s human nature.”

“Okay, that’s just really sexist-”

“As for knowing your name only this week, you’re wrong.”

“I’m sorry?” You ask, confused. 

Steve places a hand over his chest, almost as if he’s reaching for his heart. “Apology accepted, it means a lot to me.”

“Ugh,” you scoff at him. “That wasn’t an apology and you know it. Can you just take me to the Wheeler’s, please?”

“Woah, slow down there. First I need you to tell me why you thought I didn’t know your name, then I’ll take you to my girlfriend’s house. Free of charge.” 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that you see some offense in Steve’s eyes for thinking he only recently learned your name, but why would he care? Besides, you know he’s never paid any attention to you before this week.

“It was literally this week that I had to tell you my name after you almost hit me with your car, Harrington.”

“Okay, hey,” the boy holds a finger up. “Actually, you almost hit me with your bike because you were too busy hysterically sobbing.”

He’s right, but you won’t tell him that. Minor details, honestly. You’re about to tell him as much before you realize what he’s said. “Wait, you knew I had been crying?”

Steve gives you a well, duh look. “Yeah, that’s why I pretended not to know your name. Figured you wouldn’t want to talk about it and the least I could do was make you laugh. And viola, I did.” 

He had willingly tried to make you laugh?

His words make you flush, which seems to only amuse him further as he chuckles at you. You wave your hand at him, now more annoyed than ever. “Okay, fine. Whatever, so you knew my name before this week, big whoop. Can you just drive now?”

“I’ll take that as an ‘I’m sorry Steve for assuming you’re an asshole who hadn’t noticed a girl you’ve known since you were thirteen’, then.” Steve takes the car out of park and begins to drive to the Wheeler’s which you’re relieved by. 

You feel uncomfortably warm after that conversation, regardless of the fact that you’re still overheated from your biking. There’s no way that Steve has seriously known about you since you were twelve and he was thirteen. No, you decide that he must be lying, playing up his usual boyish charm. He’s been this untouchable entity ever since you moved to Hawkins, so why would he have paid any attention to you?

Then your mind floats to his compliment, calling you “decently pretty”, but then again not even five minutes earlier he stated that you sweat more than he does after basketball, so really his words should mean nothing.  

And yet, after the week you’ve had and your fight with Jonathan and Will’s death and El’s mysterious powers… 

Steve’s words make you a bit giddy, embarrassingly enough. You hate that they do, because he’s Steve Harrington and he’s with Nancy who is beautiful and kind and everything you’re not. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you. 

You pick at your nails as he drives, the car silent, and you accidentally graze against the cut on your finger from yesterday. It’s scabbed over by now, but the pain is still fresh. 

“I know that what Jonathan did was wrong, I won’t excuse his actions. Standing up for Nancy was the right thing to do and I admire you for it, really,” Steve spares you a glance as he drives, nodding his head slightly to indicate that he’s listening. “But breaking Jonathan’s camera wasn’t.” 

He groans. “Nancy said the same thing, but what’s the big deal? The creep shouldn’t have access to a camera if he can’t use it properly.”

The slight warmth that Steve had somehow put in your chest dissipates at his words. “Jonathan isn’t a creep, but regardless of the situation, the big deal is this: not everyone can afford a fancy BMW and Raybans. Not everyone in Hawkins lives in a giant mansion with a pool. He worked so hard to afford that camera, it’s not something that he can just buy again on a whim.” 

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Henderson, you know I didn’t mean it like that-”

“I know, but it was still a shitty thing to do.”

The silence that settles in the car is a heavy one, and you almost feel bad for Steve. You know he hadn’t thought about the repercussions of his actions, but you suppose that the fact that he hadn’t considered the price of a camera was proof enough of his naivety. 

When you get to the Wheeler’s, Steve gets out of the car to help you with your bike. He doesn’t let you do a thing, so you stand there and awkwardly watch. You can tell that he’s trying to make up for his actions from yesterday, which you appreciate. 

“Thank you,” you say once he places the bike down. 

“All in a day’s work.” Steve responds, wiping his hands off on his jeans. 

As he turns to leave, you stop him. “And thank you for earlier this week, ya know, for making me laugh after falling off my bike. I, uh, appreciate it.” 

He seems surprised by your sincerity, but he smiles. “Again: all in a day’s work. And listen, I’m sorry about Byers’ camera,” Then he quickly adds, as if afraid he won’t have the nerve to later, “I’m sorry about Will, too. I figure you were close with him and now he’s…”

His words trail off, not wanting to say the word “dead”, which you can’t blame him for. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad person.” Steve turns to face you now, your words catching his undivided attention. “You just have the worst taste in friends, but when you aren’t around them… I guess you’re alright.” 

He laughs a bit, but there’s a certain emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite name; you have to stop yourself from leaning in closer to him. Suddenly the space between you feels too close and you take a step back, but as you move you feel Steve’s hand ruffle your hair. “I guess you’re ‘alright’ too, Henderson.” 

You watch as he leaves, standing in the Wheeler’s driveway for longer than necessary. You place your hand on your head and find yourself smiling, the warmth of his touch still faintly there.

-

⌑ series masterlist

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About You Pt6

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

A/N: okay so the draft did not save itself that's why i made a quick edit and just post this one. I hope you enjoy this

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @khaylin27 @0710khj @its-elias-world @vizzzashley @allisonwoods

2010, Interlagos

"Honey we have to stop meeting like this" Jenson grins as he opens his hotel room.

Y/N immediately wrapped her arms around the British driver. Media be damned but she was extremely worried about Jenson when she heard what happened. She couldn't stop messaging people to ask him if he was okay or what. Even Mark has been worried when she told him what happened.

"Are you okay? You aren't hurt or anything?" Y/N asked worriedly.

"I'm alive and well"Jenson said, closing the door "maybe a little bruised ego from not being able to compete for the championship"

"Oh championship be damned Jense, you almost got kidnapped"Y/N exclaimed

Jenson could only chuckle. He admits he was a bit spooked by what happened but it is what it is. However, he was extremely grateful that Y/N has been worried enough to check up on him and assures that he is okay.

"Just join me for a little drink and lets talk about our day"Jenson suggested "Wine, beer, whiskey?"

"Beer would be fine" Y/N answered.

For all the times that Jenson have gone drinking with Y/N, he knows that her preference was more on wine. He could never forget it because who else than Y/N orders a wine on a bar or a nightclub.

"Tough day?" Jenson wondered

"Not as bad as being kidnapped" Y/N drinks up.

"Touché"

The two friends conversed for the night. Jenson opened up how it felt for him that he isn't able to extend his championship streak. He was not at all disappointed because he performed well and he just missed it out with this race. Y/N is a good listener and became a good support for Jenson.

"What about you? You are in for the big race on Abu Dhabi"Jenson diverted the attention to the female Webber "The big question is who are you supporting"

"I'm neutral"

Jenson looked at her as if she grew two heads. He shook his head as he took a sip of his beer.

"Oh c'mon your brother might win and you are still neutral about it?" Jenson questioned

"Well if you must know my bestfriend is also competing, Lewis is also competing and Fernando is also there" Y/N stated

Jenson raises his eyebrows in a teasing manner. He is not blind and he does not fall for the lies that Y/N is not choosing a side because she is friends with everyone competing. Y/N refuses to take a side because of the 'bestfriend.'

"You know its going to be historic, four drivers vying for a championship" Jenson informs "I think this is the first time that this happened"

"A lot of pressure for those wanting to win" Y/N agrees.

"You are feeling it all Y/N?" Jenson asked.

Y/N could just give out a sigh as a response. She knows that she won't be sleeping well with the whole thing happening. Its bound to happen that someone will not be fast enough and lose. Then there is also the possibility that someone will win the race and be crowned as champion.

With everything down the wire, no one could predict what will happen.

"You have to make a choice you know" Jenson reminded "What if Mark wins, what if Sebastian wins?"

"We can't have them both as world champions?" Y/N joked

"Maybe for different seasons"Jenson offered.

It was impossible for either of the driver to secure that. Given how the things are in Red Bull. They will favor whoever brings them the first championship and then place the other as their second driver.

"Y/N its just going to be much more difficult after this"Jenson straightforwardness sobered Y/N up a little "You have to stay strong and pick a side"

"I don't want to pick a side Jense, they both deserve a championship"Y/N stays firm "They are both incredible and fantastic drivers. If one of them wins, I'll be happy but I know my heart also aches for the one who misses out that championship"

This was the thing that Jenson admired about Y/N. She is supportive and loyal like that, its quite rare in the field. He gave her a comforting hug as they continue drinking their woes away.

2010, Yas Marina

It was early morning of the qualifying day when Y/N received the email. She was very much surprised upon receiving the email because she had to blink a couple of times to make sure that she is reading it correctly.

From: McLaren Racing

Subject: Job vacancy.

"Oh I am so gonna kill you for this Jense"Y/N muttered.

One of the discussions during their drunk night in Brazil was that the possible solution to Y/N's problem is moving teams. Jenson suggested that there might be some vacant jobs in McLaren before the winter season begins.

And now this conveniently timed email that Y/N has been highly recommended by several employees for the position of Press Officer makes one think that Jenson took that advice seriously.

"Are you decent?" couple of knocks interrupted her "Can I come in?"

"Come on in Mark"

Mark has two cups of coffee in hand. He was already dressed and ready for his paddock appearance. Y/N could just chuckle at the role reversal because usually she was the one who is already dressed while Mark is the one begging for five more minutes to prepare.

"One brown sugar shaken espresso with 3 pumps of toffee nuts"Mark recited proudly.

"You remembered?"

Y/N was in glee as she takes in the cup of coffee. It was a kind of morning that really needs a coffee to help her throughout the day.

"No one drinks coffee as sugary like that, only you" Mark snickers.

"I just like my coffee sweet"Y/N defends.

Mark ends up sitting at one of the chairs. Y/N could read how his expression is a mix of confidence but deep down there is some kind of worry that he is trying to hide. It must be the championship nerves getting the best of him.

"You nervous?"Y/N asked her older brother.

"Its my only chance for a championship. It feels different" Mark answered.

Y/N wanted to say that its not true and there will be plenty of more chances in the start of a new season. However,she knew that this is the closest shot that Mark has to the championship ever since he entered Formula 1.

"I spoke to Sebastian last night" Mark brought it up.

The younger Webber immediately looked up with wide eyes. She knew that the two haven't been in speaking terms except when they have to or forced to talk with each other.

"We talked about you" Mark expanded.

"Me? Why am I even brought up into the conversation?"she was confused.

"Same question but it was Sebastian that first approached me" Mark explained "He talked about how win or lose, we should not put you into a bad spot because you are both important to us"

There Sebastian goes again making her heart skip a beat. Its these little things that mainly causes her to feel deeper and deeper for the German driver. Y/N felt really touched that despite the intense rivalry, he still cares.

"And I know I thought about it all night how I'm really making things difficult for you. So thanks for sticking up with me and I'll try to be much more easier to handle" Mark concludes.

"Oh brother" was all Y/N could say before hugging him.

It felt nice for the both of them that they have each other in the sports. Its the same reason why Y/N cannot answer the offer of Jenson to move into McLaren. If she leaves then how could she be there for her brother?

"Seb really cares a lot about you"Mark informs.

"He is just being a good....bestfriend" Y/N rebutted but she seems unconvinced with her own answer.

Mark knew that Sebastian has a big sense of pride. But whenever, Y/N comes to the picture then he will immediately melt. Mark could only chuckle because Y/N has no clue of the chokehold he has over Sebastian.

"Oh I think you are thinking too little about yourself"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Y/N wondered

It was not Mark's business to play cupid. If Sebastian had the balls then he would have asked her without his help. He just gave a grin as he exited the room.

"Don't be late"Mark teased

"MARK WHAT DOES IT MEAN?"

Meanwhile, Sebastian is early to arrive at the paddock to avoid the media asking plenty of questions. He wanted to be stress-free today since he needs to put all his focus to this race because this is his chance to win the championship. He will be damned if he lets this slip by.

At the moment, he is sitting at the cafeteria which seems to be deserted by the crowd. He was enjoying his peaceful breakfast when a man in orange sat next to him.

"How are you feeling buddy?" Jenson asked too energetically for Sebastian's opinion.

"For a man no longer fighting for the championship, you seem more excited than me" Sebastian joked.

"Oh don't tell me you are nervous" Jenson teased "The Sebastian Vettel is nervous?"

Sebastian rarely gets nervous but this is one of those instances that he really feels the nerves getting the best of him. He finds it really out of his character. There is this heavy feeling in his chest that he may emerge victorious or a complete failure after this race.

"Don't tell anyone but you have my vote of confidence" Jenson whispered.

It was a bit of a boost to hear it from the 2009 World Champion, Sebastian gave him a quick hug which Jenson accepts. It was due to this closeness that Jenson noticed the silver necklace hanging on his neck.

A mischievous grin replaced Jenson's face as he knows there was only one person in this paddock that has that necklace.

"That's Y/N, isn't it?" Jenson snickers.

Just like that, the feeling of embarrassment spread in Sebastian's face. He was not embarrassed by the gift but rather he feels a little shy about anyone seeing his little lucky charm. He tucks it inside safely inside of his shirt.

"It is" Sebastian answered,playing it cool "How did you know?"

Knowing the dating history of Y/N and Jenson, he can feel a little green monster forming at his shoulders. Jenson must have been well-acquainted with Y/N that he paid close attention to notice details such as her necklace.

"Mate, when are you going to ask her out? It's been ages" Jenson asked.

"Excuse me?"

Sebastian was not expecting that. He immediately downed a water to hide his surprise.

"Don't tell me you still haven't made a move even after everything?"Jenson asked.

Jenson knew that Sebastian was someone very dear to Y/N. He had spent enough time with Y/N o figure out that its always the Webber family, Sebastian Vettel, Red Bull, then everyone else. That was how the list of priority of Y/N goes.

"She doesn't like me like that" Sebastian lies even though everything from that drunk confession still replays in Sebastian's head.

"You know what, if you win the championship then go and ask her out" Jenson challenged.

"Now you are putting even more pressure on me"

"C'mon now!" Jenson was exasperated "I'm not even accepting any cash prizes, just name your first child after me for being a good wingman"

"I'm gonna ignore you now Button" Sebastian's nonchalantly ended the conversation.

"Sebastian you can win the championship and the girl!" Jenson convincingly shouts.

Sebastian just gives him a shrug as he continues to eat. He smiles at the thought that maybe he will try Jenson's advice.

Victorious Vettel and a missing team mate.

Congratulations to the amazing drive of Sebastian Vettel which made him victorious from the four-way championship. He also boast two records with one being the youngest WDC champion and the other being Red Bull's first driver champion.

While celebrations are happening, it was evident that there was the absence of the Webber siblings. Mark Webber was seen congratulating Vettel the minute that they stepped out of the car. However, Mark wasn't seen after that and even in the parties. Also absent was Y/N Webber, dubbed as Sebastian's bestfriend. She was spotted in the Red Bull garage but she was absent as well during the celebrations.

Is there trouble brewing with the Webbers against the new world champion?

Seb: Hey, where are you? I have been looking for you everywhere Seb: Y/N are you there? sent by 8pm Seb: I'm going to the club with the team. I hope to see you there sent by 9:34 pm Y/N: Hi Seb! Congratulations with your WDC!! You know that I always believed that you will be a champion one day! I'm really really so happy and so proud of you. Y/N: I'm really sorry if I couldn't be there. I fainted around lap 45 but not to worry, its just my sugar levels. My phone went dead last night and I wasn't able to reply and congratulate right away. I'm really sorry. sent by 11:22 am Seb: Hey, I'm glad to hear you are okay. I just woke up from a massive hangover. I wish you have seen the party Seb: BTW, I have something to tell. Are you still at the hotel? sent by 2:06 pm Y/N: Oh, me and Mark took an early flight back to Melbourne. Parents were a bit worried. sent by 5:44 pm Seb: Okay see you. Y/N: What do you mean see you???? Seb: :)))))))))))))))))

It might be the high from winning the championship or maybe its the alcohol in his system but Sebastian was sure of his decisions.

Clothes are haphazardly thrown into the luggage while he conducts a quick sweep of the essentials he might need. He sent a quick text to everyone that might be needing him. As far as he knows, he has some time off before resuming with his media duties and such.

He is going to Australia.

[leapingbadger]

The Final Gift

Summary: The Batch celebrate their first Life Day since settling on Pabu. Omega is surprised by a gift from her brothers.

The common room was warm with the glow of Pabu’s nightly light display. It was their first Life Day Celebration since they had settled on Pabu and Hunter had insisted that Echo join them. It was rare for Omega and all her four brothers to be together for an extended period of time, these days. Echo’s mission took him to far flung planets and his visit had become brief over the last few months.

The tree in the corner of the room, brought by Echo from a distant, snow-covered mood, was strung with golden lights, offering a cozy warmth that was sometimes lacking in their sparsely decorated home. As it was their first Life Day tree, they hadn’t been sure how to decorate it. Omega had gathered blossoms from the weeping maya tree and tucked the pink flowers sporadically in between the green branches.

Wrecker had concocted a recipe similar to her favorite, Mantell Mix. They had sat on the floor at the base of the tree for hours, carefully stringing the purple and pink pieces to wrap around the branches. Of course, some of the mix found its way into their stomachs, but that was just payment for all the hard work, Omega thought with a smile.

She heard low murmurs outside as her brothers cleaned up from the feast Wrecker had cooked for them. Even Echo, who was the fussiest eater Omega had ever met, had devoured the fish, fruit, vegetables and desserts that had covered the table.

Omega sighed as she relaxed into the soft couch, scratching Batcher on the back of the head as she slept, her long pink tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth.

She smiled down at the soft ragdoll Hunter had awkwardly handed her that morning. She had wavy, yellow yarn hair, brown button eyes and a thread mouth turned up into a wide smile.

“I saw it at the market…thought you’d…made me think of… I hope you like it.” He said with a smile, handing the doll over.

“I love her! Thank you, Hunter.” she had said, throwing her arms around his shoulders, his long hair tickling the side of her face.

“You’re welcome, Kid.” He replied, his hands closing tightly around her back.

Hunter was more relaxed these days than she had ever seen him. The almost permanent crease at the bridge of his nose had all but disappeared since they had settled here. His days were restful, with early morning walks to lower Pabu, swims in the crystalline water and afternoon chats with Shep and Phee.

A painting from Crosshair sat on the table in front of her, a beautiful landscape of a cliff edge and gold and scarlet sunset. He had gotten so good over the last few months and Omega already knew exactly where she would hang it in her room.

He complained about it, stubbornly telling them that painting was a means to an end, a way to fully integrate his new hand into daily use, but as always, he couldn’t fool her. Crosshair thrived on art. He was the squad’s resident tattoo artist during the war and his talent hadn’t subsided since his retirement.

He had waited until the rest of the squad were out of the room before giving it to her, rolled up and tied with a red bow that looked suspiciously like one of Hunter’s bandanas.

“Here,” he said, “big sister,” he said a grin.

Omega had unfurled it reverently and gasped as she took in the beautiful swirls of color. She recognized the spot in the painting immediately. It was where she and Crosshair would meditate, overlooking Pabu’s beautiful ocean.

“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” she said in a soft voice.

Crosshair had chuckled, “I highly doubt that. But I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you, Crosshair.” she said, hugging him around his chest. He gave her a quick squeeze, two quick taps on the back and smiled down at her.

“My pleasure.”

Omega yawned and rubbed her eyes. She would have gone to bed by now if it wouldn’t have disturbed Batcher. She yawned again and noticed her brother’s voices get louder and they came in from outside.

“We wondered where you were,” Hunter said, coming to sit next to her on her left side.

The rest of her brothers filtered in. Echo moved the new crossbow he’d given her off the chair in the corner and sat with a sigh. Crosshair stood in the corner, leaning on the wall and Wrecker sat at the foot of the Life Day Tree, surreptitiously picking Mantell Mix off the string.

“Figured I’d give you some time to catch up.” She said, fingers entwined in her doll’s wool hair.

“Or you didn’t want to listen to the debate of which blaster is better,” Wrecker said with a laugh.

Omega shrugged, “Maybe a little.”

Her brothers laughed. Omega was convinced it was perhaps the best sound in the whole galaxy.

“How was your first Life Day?” Hunter asked, bumping her shoulder playfully and adjusting the green, woven bandana she had given him earlier.

“It was amazing. I wish we didn’t have to wait another year for the next one.” She said.

“That’s what makes it special.” Wrecker said, his voice muffled with Mantell mix.

“Well, if it makes it better, we have one final gift for you.” Hunter said with a nod to Echo whose hand was tucked behind him.

Echo heaved himself out of the chair and leaned over to Omega, his hand outstretched with a strange, lumpy shaped present.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Something from all of us,” Echo said with a quick look to Hunter, Crosshair and Wrecker.

Omega took it happily, ripping off the paper to reveal a small, grey datapad. There were nicks out of the side of it and a deep scratch on the screen. She turned it over, revealing a skull emblem with a lightning bolt behind it.

“It was Tech’s,” Hunter said unnecessarily. “One of the older ones from our early missions. He kept them all when he upgraded to a new one, but we needed Echo to help recover some of the content.”

Omega looked around the room. Each of her brothers was smiling at her, but the smiles had an underlying bittersweetness to them. Crosshair was avoiding eye contact and Wrecker swiftly wiped away a tear from his cheek.

“You’re giving this to me? Don’t you want it?” she rasped out, her throat feeling tight.

Hunter put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him. “We got a lot more time with Tech than you did. We wanted you to know him the way we did, and this is your chance. Echo managed to recover his old research, recordings, and voice notes.”

“You’ll probably hear all of us on those,” Crosshair interjected.

Tears swam in Omega’s eyes. She hurriedly wiped them away as her fingers turned on the datapad and the blue screen sprang to life. She scrolled through the files, selecting one at random.

“While not entirely surprising given the climate and seasons of the planet, this rodent-like creature seems to be able change its appearance depending on temperature and light. It is quite fascinating and does not appear in any current records. It is possible it is a new discovery entirely…”

“Maybe they’ll name it after you, Tech,” Crosshair’s distant, snide voice called. Laughter erupted in the background.

“With it’s tendency towards aggression, Brother, I think it more likely it will be named after you.”

The background roared with laughter again.

Omega shut off the recording and looked around the room. Hunter, Echo and Crosshair grinned while Crosshair looked a little sheepish.

Batcher woke with a bark as Omega sprang to her feet, throwing her arms around each of her brothers in turn. She clutched the datapad to her chest.

“This is….this is…” she looked down at the datapad, running her hand over the device her lost brother had treasured. “This is the best gift I could ever hope for.”

Raucous laughter filled the common room as Omega and her brothers listened to recording after recording. Tech’s distinct voice seemed to fill the space, making it feel like he was there with them.

One by one they fell asleep, Wrecker curled up with Batcher under the tree, Echo, limp in the reclining chair, the bolts in his head shining under the glow of the tree light. Crosshair’s head flopped on his chest as he snored lightly, leaning against the wall of the common room.

Omega woke with a start and found herself leaning against Hunter, his hands aimlessly tracing through her hair.

“Ready for bed?” he asked with a low chuckle.

She nodded, sitting up and letting him scoop her in his arms. He laid her gently in her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.

“Night, Kid,” he said before slowly moving towards the door.

“Hunter?” she asked, pulling her new doll close to her chest.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think Tech would have liked living on Pabu?” she asked.

Hunter smiled and crossed back over to her, “I think he would have loved it.” he said, putting the datapad on the bedside table, next to Tech’s cracked goggles. “But he’s always with us, Kid. With you.”

Omega smiled sleepily.

Hunter hesitated before leaning over and kissing her gently on her hair. “Goodnight, Omega.”

“Goodnight.” She yawned before sleep took her away on an adventure, with all of her brothers.

[strawhbrrries]

Hell on Heels.

pairing: rhett abbott x tillerson!afab!reader

summary: you made the devil a deal; he made you pretty, he made you smart and rhett abbott she’s coming after you.

warnings: everyone calls reader ‘honey’, sweet rhett, the tillersons (they need their own warning tbh but i love a good forbidden romance), mutual pining (sorta), unprotected p in v, car sex, a wee bit of fingering, creampie, let me know if i forgot anything, no use of y/n or description of reader, not proofread 

word count: 4.4k words

author’s note: i love rhett abbott and i think this rivals the cowgirl series as one of the best things i’ve ever written. I’m just a sucker for a white man in a cowboy hat. honey is ENTIRELY inspired by the pistol annies so channel them when you read them. I’ve been hyping this up to @thesirenrealm all night so i’m saying my prayers that it lives up! as always, please enjoy!!! mwah!!!!

read the next part here!

“The rodeo ain’t ‘till later tonight.” 

His voice was warm, wrapping you up in a thick blanket and protecting you from the world. A false sense of security, your brother’s had tried to scare you with some bullshit about not trusting the Abbott boys. As if your family was any better. 

“Stalkin’ me, Abbott?” You turned around to face him, the railing of the arena leaving indents on the undersides of your arms, the corners of your lips turning into a smile.

“Luke know you’re out here?” He looked around, almost like he was expecting your brother to pop out of the shadows somewhere and give him shit for even speaking to you, avoiding your question.

“No, and I’m an adult. I can do what I want.” You huffed, annoyed everyone saw you as an extension of your older brother. Even more so that Rhett did, you’d tried so hard to stand out to him.

“He doesn’t see it that way. Why’re you out here?” He inquired, leaning against the railing next to you, squinting his eyes as the sun found its way under his hat

“Space,” you looked over at him, “ I assume that’s why you’re out here?”

“Bingo.” He looked over at you, holding eye contact until you broke it and looked back into the arena in front of you. “Why don’t you leave the ranch if you want space so much, Honey? You’re out here more days than you’re at your own home.”

His observation was a slight stab in the guts, only because he was right. You loved your family, truly, as best as you could while keeping yourself sane. Luke wanted to control everyone and everything, including you and what you did. You were half surprised he hadn’t implanted a tracker underneath your skin, in your car, or downloaded one on your phone. In some ways it could be written off as well meaning, he just wanted to make sure his people were okay. He was just crazy, you knew it. Billy, he was a sweet thing, just never knew when to shut the fuck up. Your dad had gone off his rocker long ago, probably forget he had a daughter due to your absence around the house. 

“And where do you suggest I go, Abbott?” You scoffed at his suggestion, your family might’ve had some money but you’d never seen any of it. Buying a house or renting was out of the question. 

“Quit callin’ me that.” He scoffed right back at you, his eyes never leaving you.

“Fine, Rhett. Answer the question.” 

“I’ve offered multiple times, Honey. It still stands now.” His tone was softer now, more serious. 

You’d ignored him, walked away and got into your car, drove all the way to your house. You wanted to contemplate his offer, wanted to take him up on it but you’d just be intruding on his family’s space. You’d rather act like you only slept at your house before you became a burden to another family. Your phone lit up three times with Rhett’s name on your drive home, probably telling you to think of the offer or maybe asking if you were gonna see him ride later. 

He’d been shocked when you walked away, didn’t say a single thing or make any indication he’d done anything wrong. He was right, he’d offered you a place multiple times before, when he pointed it out he didn’t think he was going to upset you. He knew all about the loyalty you had for your family but he also knew the type of crazy Luke and Wayne were. Some days he wondered if you were ever truly related to them, sweet ol’ Honey. Your sweet demeanor earned you the nickname, you’d had it for years. It could be your real name and you’d know no different.

“Honey. Honey. Honey what the fuck.” Luke was yelling the second you walked in the door, it made you want to turn around. Pick up your phone. Tell Rhett you’d accepted his offer and was on your way.

“Luke, shut the fuck up.” Is all you had to say to him as you walked right past him and into your room, slamming the wooden doors as loud as you could. 

Luke had yelled something in response, you couldn’t give a singular shit about whatever that man child wanted. You balled your fists, shaking them at your door quietly as he continued yelling. All you wanted was some peace and quiet. That’s why you spent so much time down at the showing arena during the day time, nobody else was there. It was deserted. Just you and your thoughts. Apparently also Rhett, not that you minded. You liked Rhett, a lot. He was just the right amount of rugged to contrast the delicate world built around you from being the only daughter. Just the right amount of mean to contrast your sweetness.

Your phone vibrated from its spot in your back pocket, you pulled it out and looked at the name at the top of your screen. Rhett Abbott.

“Honey.”

His voice was soft, just as soft as it had been at the arena, not a hint of annoyance with you. You appreciated that he wasn’t making you feel bad for leaving him hanging, appreciated that the guilt you were feeling wasn’t because of his words. 

“Hey, Rhett. I'm sorry for leavin’ like that I-”

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have overstepped like that. I just need to know if you’re comin’ to watch my ride.” 

You should’ve given it to him for cutting you off like that, but your sweet heart had a Rhett Abbott shaped soft spot and always had. You listened to him talk like he was preaching the Sunday sermon, like whatever he was telling you would save your life.

“Yeah..yeah I’m comin’.” You flopped back on your bed, imagining where he was and what he was doing. Were his thoughts filled with you? Like yours were of him.

“Good.” 

He hung up and filled you with disappointment, you knew he had to get ready to ride but it didn’t make you any less upset he didn’t have the courtesy to say bye. 

“Bye, Rhett.” You whispered into the air, laying your phone down next to you, staring up at the angled ceiling as your thoughts became overrun with what you’d wear. 

You loved being a girl; loved dressing up and looking pretty, loved the (wanted) attention you got from it, loved the solidarity you got from most other women. Tonight was no exception, the rodeo was your favorite excuse to wear the jeans that hugged your ass in all the right places and the bra that put the girls in the right place to get what you wanted when you wanted it. You didn’t need to dress up to impress anyone, you knew that but god if you didn’t love it. Touching up your hair and makeup was the last thing you did before shoving your phone in your back pocket, walking past whatever screaming fest your brother had found himself in now, and hauling ass to the rodeo. Sometimes, life wasn’t so bad.

“Honey! Over here!” 

Your head snaps to the group of girls calling for your attention, a huge smile immediately lighting up your face as you walked over to join the group. You gave all the girls a hug and a kiss on the cheek before settling in a spot, you hoped Rhett could easily see you in. If it wasn’t your whooping and hollering that would get his attention, it was the cowboy hat he gifted you years ago matched with bright red lipstick. You were sex personified. Hell on Heels. 

He’d spotted you the second you’d walked into the place, watched your hair bounce as you walked and watched the smile that stood proudly every time someone spoke to you. Watched your ass jiggle in the jeans you always wore when you dressed up, he hated them simply because he knew every man you encountered watched you saunter away the same way he did. The cat calling the kettle black. Rhett was many things but he was a dirty hungry man, hungry for all the things Honey Tillerson could offer. He watched you sit with a group of girls he didn’t know, nor did he give a single shit about, and try to get a glimpse of him. Unfortunately, he’d placed himself out of sight. He wanted to admire you from afar without being caught, boy was he glad he did when you started searching for him.

“Here for prince charming Abbott?” One of the girls teased, trying to get a rise out of you.

“Obviously, I don’t support anyone else as fiercely as I do for a man who isn’t mine.” You shot back, rolling your eyes playfully before breaking into giggles to let them know it wasn’t as serious as you’d pretended.

“All I’m sayin’ is, I’d never wait for a man who can’t commit.” You don’t know shit.

“Agreed, I mean I’m sure any Abbott boy is a catch but girl you’ve been pining after this man since grade school!”

You knew the girls were well meaning, just wanting you to go after a man who wanted you more than you wanted him. You’d die lonely before you settled for someone who wasn’t him, it didn’t matter if it took you a hundred years to get him to see you the way you saw him. He already did, you were just oblivious and put it off as some sort of kindness he gave to everyone. Rhett wasn’t the kind man to everyone like he was to you, he couldn’t give a shit if anyone had a place to stay trying to escape their crazy family, but he gave multiple for you. 

“Ash you can’t even talk, your man can’t keep it in his pants. Leave mine alone.” You snapped, feigning niceness despite the venom of your words, tilting your head to the side daring any of the girls to try you one more time. Your sweetness only ran so far before it ran out, they were running it thin.

“God if I was a man, Honey, I’d be knocking down your dad’s door beggin’ him to let me marry you. Scratch that, I’d pay him to let me do it! If anyone supported me like you support Rhett, it’d be a miracle I wasn’t knee deep in kids.” The girl next to you spoke, laying her head on your shoulder as she did so. It felt nice for your support to be noticed by someone. 

“I’ll be next in line in case he turns her down!” 

The girls continued talking about how they’d love to marry you in another life up until the announcer came on to start up the rodeo. The rodeo on a summer night was your favorite place to be. Between the screams of everyone in town coming out to support someone they knew and the lights of the stadium, it filled you with warmth. You only half paid attention to all the bull riders before Rhett, wishing them good luck but not enough that they’d beat your man.

“Everyone stand and welcome our hometown hero! Rhett Abbott!”

You were the first to your feet, yelling louder than you were the last time, making sure he’d see you before his run. He’d whispered to you one night after a run, sneaked to your house to see you and thank you for coming to watch him, that you were his good luck charm. That he searched for you everytime he was getting ready to ride, it was a drunken confession but a true one nonetheless. Ever since that night you made sure he saw you, that he knew his good luck charm was there. Your voice rivaled his parent’s in loudness, depending on the night it was louder.

You held your breath through his entire ride, always scared to death he’d fall and get trampled by whatever bull he was riding that night. He never did. Always came out on top. He was the hometown hero, after all.

“Rhett!” You called after him, running up to him as he exited the ‘Rider’s Only’ area. 

“Honey.” He smiled, scooping you up and twirling you around. It was the most affection he’d shown you, sober.

“Mr. Hometown Hero. Always winnin’, huh?” You teased, matching his smile as you looked down at him. Aware of the fact that he was almost entirely supporting you with one arm, your core just getting a tinge warm at the thought.

“Always, when I got my good luck charm here,” he nipped at your exposed collarbone, “God you are one gorgeous woman. Don’t know how the guys in the stand didn’t maul you before your pretty ass got here.”

“Oh hush, don’t care about ‘em anyway.” You placed a kiss on his cheek, waiting for him to cross the physical boundary of kissing.

He’d been close to it only twice before, once on your birthday and the other on the same night he’d first called you his good luck charm. Both times he’d been interrupted by a knock on a door and the holler of your name.

Your birthday is one you almost kiss you think back on frequently. You’d managed to ditch your family and friends for a few hours, sitting in the passenger seat of Rhett’s truck as he drove you back to your place. You invited him in, no one was home so there wasn’t anyone to tiptoe around. Showed him your room and locked the door. He laid down on your bed, moving onto his side so he could look at you as you laid down.

“Pretty lil thing.” He whispered, tracing a finger from the start of your forehead to the tip of your chin. He used that same finger to get you to look at him. 

The two of you laid there, staring at each other, for a few moments. Admiring the other person. If the rest of your birthday had gone horribly wrong, laying here with him made it all better. 

“Can I kiss you, Honey?” He asked, already running his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“Please, Rhett.” You whined, it was airy and desperate. 

He leaned in, keeping his finger on your chin and pointed towards him, his lips ghosting yours. There wasn’t a centimeter of space between the two of you, 

“Honey? Are you in there? Rhett Abbott’s truck is in the driveway.” It was Billy, the better of your brothers to have been home first. 

“Yeah I'm here! He brought me back and was making sure I was okay!” You scrunched your face in annoyance, pushing Rhett off of you and trying to hurry him out of your room before anyone else arrived home. 

The night he called you his lucky charm was also the night you think you realized that you loved Rhett Abbott, like truly loved him. He’d had his best ride of all season, gotten dragged out to go drink with the other riders when he’d rather celebrate with you. 

You’d gone home slightly disappointed, you understood the other guys wanting to celebrate with him but you also wanted to see him. You weren’t greeted when you got home, not that you cared, but it only added to your disappointment that the people who were supposed to care about you didn’t. Your phone had found its way in the middle of your bed, being left there while you took a shower in some attempt to scrub away the disappointment. When you got dressed and finally picked it back up it read,

3 missed calls from Rhett Abbott

Your face fell, how could you miss these? You clicked on the notification and waited anxiously as it rang, nervous he wouldn’t pick up. 

“Hey, baby.” His voice was loud, he was yelling over whatever commotion was going on in the back. Baby was new. 

“You called?” Your voice barely above a whisper, gnawing on the end of one of your acrylic nails as you awaited his answer. 

“Wanna come see you, see my girl.” His girl.

“My family’s here, you can’t.” Despite the thick walls providing a lot of sound proofing, you couldn’t help but whisper in fear that one of them had a cup to the door listening to your every word.

“I’ll park at the end of the driveway, walk around to your window. Please?” 

“Just…be careful, please.” You smiled softly at the reflection of yourself on the screen, excited you’d be able to see him tonight. 

What felt like forever went by before you heard a soft knock on your window. You unlocked it and pushed them open, leaning over the sill to look at him. 

“Rebellious rebellious Honey Tillerson, what ever will we do with you.” Rhett joked, putting his hands up on the window to hold yours.

“Congrats, Rhett. You did amazing tonight.” You took his hands in yours and smiled down at him, although you could barely see him in the dark. 

“Cause I had you, had my lucky charm, my girl.” His girl. 

Your smile at that moment could’ve lit up the whole sky, the brightest thing he’d ever seen. If he hadn’t forgotten his phone in his truck he would’ve snapped a picture of you, probably would’ve fucked his hand to it later.

“I’ll be there, every time.” You leaned down just as he leaned up, hopeful it’d finally be the moment you’d kiss. You’d be lying if it wasn’t something you dreamed about constantly since your birthday. Your lips were once again, centimeters from each other when a fucking knock on your door rang out. 

“Honey. Do you know where any of dad’s meds are?” Luke’s voice instantly filling you with rage, didn’t anyone in this house have anything to do when Rhett was trying to kiss you.

“No, I’ll help you look.” You yelled back, giving Rhett an apologetic look before closing your window and walking away to go help your incompetent brother.

Now here you were, in Rhett’s arms, inches away from his face. You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, that he was gonna feel the excitement and the nervousness spilling out of you. And yet, he didn’t kiss you. He didn’t lean in or pull your face to his. He set you down, he put your feet back onto the ground.

“C’mon, I’m not kissin’ you here.” He read the disappointment written all over your face, grabbed your hand and brought you to his truck. “Because the last thing I need is someone trying to get your attention when it should be on me.”

“And your truck is that much more private?”

“It drives and the doors lock, your family seems to always need you when I do, I’d say it’s a bit more private.” He responded, opening the passenger side door for you and closing it once you got inside.

He got in the drivers side and closed the door, locking the truck and taking a deep breath before he turned to you. 

“Honey, I am going to kiss you. If anyone fuckin’ interrupts me I will become a murderer.” He placed his hand on your cheek, leaned in and placed his lips on yours.

You placed a hand on top of his, just reminding yourself that Rhett Abbott was actually kissing you. He leaned in further, deepening the kiss a bit to test the waters as this was the first kiss the two of you shared together. He swiped his tongue over your lower lip, a small whine escaping the back of your throat causing him to chuckle against your lips. 

“C’mere, pretty girl.” He helped you over the console in the middle and into his lap, his hands caressing your sides before finding their way to your ass. Giving it a nice squeeze, he’d thought about this every damn time you wore these jeans.

“Rhett.” You whined, leaning into him for support. Not because you couldn’t hold yourself up, you simply wanted to feel his hands on you and the strength he displayed earlier when he picked you up.

“What, baby? What? You gotta use your words, you know that.” He whispered, placing open mouth kisses along your neck.

“Need you..”

“Need me to what? Words, Honey, words.” He sucked and nipped at one spot directly under your collarbone, he knew it’d start some shit in the future but at this current moment he had you all to himself. He’d rather be a dead man than not mark you as his, hell he’d fucking carve it into your skin if you’d let him. He’d ask you about it later.

“Need you to fuck me..” You whispered, your skin turning pink at the confession and the lewdness of it all. Rhett wouldn’t be your first, you’d drunkenly hooked up with men before but it was a different kind of need to finally have sex with someone you’d been pining after.

“Was that so hard? I can do that for you. Take real good care of ya. Fuck you six ways to Sunday.” His words turning you an even pinker shade, you didn’t know he could say such dirty things but god if it wasn’t the hottest thing anyone had ever said to you.

Both of your hats were thrown into the back seat as it became a race of who could get their jeans off the fastest, you’d win by a few seconds as your mobility wasn’t limited because of someone else sitting on top of you. Your jeans would soon join the hats in the back, tossed loosely back there to just get them out of the damn way. Sure it would’ve been easier to just fuck back there but the small cramped space of the drivers seat was spurring the both of you in a way you hadn’t before that it didn’t matter where you fucked. You just needed to fuck. Now.

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout this. ‘Bout you.” He confessed, combing his fingers through your hair before smashing your lips back together, giving you no time to think.

Kissing Rhett was nasty, messy, and you loved it. His mouth was on yours, making up for all the times he tried to but hadn’t been successful in kissing you. His hands were roaming your body, caressing the newly naked ass presented to him. He felt like he was fifteen years old ago, seeing a naked body and losing his mind. But he wasn’t fifteen and you weren’t naked, he was losing his mind at the thought of getting you naked. It’d have to wait because he’d become a murderer if anyone else saw you naked from this point on. 

“Thought about you too. Your fingers and how they’d feel inside me, probably so much bigger than mine.” You confessed, taking breaths in between your words, staring at Rhett as he processed what you just told him.

“You are the hottest woman I have ever met, goddamnit Honey.” He groaned in response, sliding your panties to the slide and playing with your clit. “I’m gonna finger you for a second, just stretch you a bit and then I’m gonna fuck you. Okay?”

You shook your head yes and leaned your head against his shoulder as his middle finger slid inside of you. He twisted it occasionally, adding a bit of fun but never letting your orgasm build up. He wanted you to cum on his cock and not a moment before. He slowly added his ring finger to the mix, fucking into you slowly enough to stretch you and be not enough to get off. You wanted to cry when he removed his fingers, no longer feeling the fullness of his fingers, but it wasn’t long before it was replaced with the tip of his cock.

“How bad do you want it?” He teased, pushing just the head in and pulling it back out. Making sure to never let more than his head go inside of you.

“Rhett please, need it. Need your cock, need you to fuck me..” You cried out into his shoulder, gasping loudly when he pushed the whole thing inside of you. “Holy fuckin’ shit..”

He chuckled at your response and kissed the top of your head, waiting just a few moments before he pulled all the way out and pushed himself all the way back inside of you. 

“This pussy was fuckin’ made for me.” He grunted into your ear, slowly starting to move just a little bit faster. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours Rhett, shit, yours..”

He seemed satisfy with your answer and braced himself with one hand on the console and the over wrapped around you, fucking up into you like he wasn’t gonna see you again and this was your last night together. His thrusts were hard and deep, you’d felt a fullness you didn’t even know was possible until now, fast and rough. His soft grunts and groans were like music to your ears, adding to the warmth that was slowly building in your belly. The knot was slowly coming together and it was all the doing of Rhett Abbott.

“Shoulda done this ages ago, made you mine, made sure no one else touched you.” He rambled, words spilling out of his mouth at a speed you’d never heard him speak at. “Fuck, gonna make you Mrs. Rhett Abbott, shit baby, this cunt is so fuckin’ warm.”

“Gonna cum, Rhett I’m gonna cum..fuck fuck fuck…” 

“I’m right behind you, baby.”

He quickly brought his hand down to your clit and pushed you over the edge he had you teetering on. Your orgasm milked the orgasm out of him as he fucked you through it, making sure not to change his motions until you moved his hand away from overstimulation. The windows had long fogged up, only lines from your hair moving against them were left unfogged. He relaxed completely in the seat, breathing deeply in an attempt to catch his breath. 

“Holy shit, Honey. Fuckin’ Hell on Heels.”

[awkardly-yours]

Regarding tmagp 22

First, to get it out of the way: WHAT THE FUCK???? JONATHAN SIMS AND MARTIN BLACKWOOD?????

Secondly, i feel really bad for sam! His two romantic interests are clearly manipulating him, one wants him to drop his obsession "for his own good" while the other encourages it to get what she wants.

Alice got him this job either to get help solving the mysteries (unlikely imo, as from the start she doesn't care at all and knows that not caring is what kept her alive) or to rekindle what they had. My favourite theory is the latter, being stuck in a basement during the night with your ex might help to redevelop romantic interests. She got to be in a position of power over Sam (which she enjoys) by showing him how the oiar works and by being the source of confort or guidance when things get bad (plus they work at night, thus making him tired as his circadian rythm is completely screwed and on very horrifying topics, making him more likely to search for comfort and to make irrational decisions like going back to his ex).

Alice likes being in that position, as we saw with colin, her brother and teddy. She funds her brothers band, she goes to colin's flat to make sure he's alright and she pesters teddy until he accepts to go grab a drink, which (imo) he was reluctant to do. This way of functioning is not healthy, as she seems to think the only way she can get affection is by being a "paternalist / motherly" figure in her friends life. "If i do all of that for them theyll have no choice but to like me and to do what i say"

Its toxic, even if she probably genuinely wants to help, because her "help" is tool to mold her friends in what she wants them to be. For example: she goes to the magnus institute with sam (help) and when he doesnt find what hes looking for she tries really hard to get him to drop his obsession (control).

And his second romantic interest is celia, who is not from his universe and who has a plan that needs Sam's obsession. I stopped liking her when she started to explicitely compete with Alice. I dont remember which episode it was, but Sam invites Celia to go to the theater with him. She starts the interaction clearly not interested (saying "no i dont think i dropped tickets, theyre not mine", trying to gently reject him), then Alice, having overheard the conversation, invites them to go to her brothers concert the same night. After that, Celia seems to completely change her tune and accepts Sam's offer. That way, he doesnt go to the concert (distancing him from alice) and she has the audacity to ghost him.

Let's be cristal clear: both of them were trying to manipulated the poor guy and none were in the right. Alice tries to manipulate him to drop his obsession to get him out of harm's way (and into her her arms WINK WINK). But Celia is manipulating Sam through his feelings, which imo she doesn't reciprocate, to get him to do something that will probably hurt him and help her quest (whatever it might be). She's always pretty distant towards him, except when they start talking about the institute, then her attitude changes and shes pationate and almost flirty. The fond memory Sam has of their first date is due to them talking about work for gods sake! Other than in those occasions, she seems to me pretty cold and sarcastic when Sam is being goofy to make her like him.

So yeah, the poor beholder is stuck between two spiders.

Finally, poor Gwen! The second blorbo of the show after sam. However, i dont think Lena and the oiar are the equivalent of the institute. Sure, they both have a departement reading statements, but the oiar is proactive, sorting them and deploying externals or protocols to clean what groups seem to be too close to a ritual. The institute just reads them for the Beholder and (until gertrude) never did anything to prevent the rituals. I dont think Lena is trying to make Gwen into an "archivist", she just wants her to do her job and manage externals. She doesn't encourage any curiosity, just the processing and administrative work. And Gwen doesnt seem that aligned to the Beholder anyway, she wants to be the best at her job, and her job doesnt want her to be curious.

(Also i love augustus but i miss the voice of Elias :(((( )

[fancyfeathers]

To Fancy (srry it's my first time making a request)

We seen Ballerina, Librarian, nobility, chess 'nd some other readers, but what about an teacher? Depending on the region in the world, women began to be teachers from 1810 onwards, so would it be possible for us to have a female teacher? Of literature if possible And if so, which of the characters do you think this teacher would best match?

I think I wrote something about a teacher darling with William but I would say William, Louis, Mycroft, or Sebastian.

William is the obvious answer as he himself is a mathematics professor and while the chances are of his darling teaching children since there were not many women professors way back when the idea is still cute to me. He probably meets her when visiting the school on a consulting job to take care of the headmaster of the school under the guise of giving guest lectures and she happens to be the sweet English teacher who volunteered to let him use her classroom. Then when she looses her job when the school looses its headmaster and parents withdraw their students, he is the kind university professor who offers her to live with him and his brothers.

Louis would probably meet her while out at the market on her days off. Being the gentleman he is and also being head over heels for her at first sight he offers to help her carry her things back to her house, and when she invites him inside he sees all the little gifts her students have given her along with her students’ work and lesson plans stacked up on her desk. I feel like Louis could just picture a future with here right then and there, sitting with her in the drawing room having tea with her while she reads over her student’s assignments, but of course it is never destined to end like that.

Now Sebastian Moran is an odd choice but he has had a hard and rough life and to fall for someone who is gentle and kind is almost natural. He would just happen to run into her when she is making her way back home is while she is carrying a heavy stack of books, oh let him help, it’s no problem. It is the cinnamon roll and would kill you trope. It is just so rare for Moran to be so gentle with someone that he is just sort of putty in her hands. Also you know her students love asking him about if he is going to marry their teacher or ask him stories about how he got some of his scars cause children are little shits and curious as hell.

Then I really cannot explain Mycroft, it just feels right, like just picturing this terrifying man who is literally called the government being down bad for this little children’s teacher. Like chances are she does not even know who he is, he is probably a sponsor of his old primary school which is probably how he met her. Then he becomes a sponsor specifically for her class, literally anything she needs it is there the next day and she has no idea how it got there because she did not even say anything yet. Then also picturing Sherlock seeing his brother walking and smiling with this teacher who has nothing special about her would probably send his head for a spin, Mycroft in love? What happened? Did someone die?

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

I love you and your celebrations! You know how much I loved Crosshair x Sith!Reader. I would love to see more of their story with the quote, "Look at her -- I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way -- what bliss." Thank you, sweetie 😘😘😘

@firstofficerwiggles thank you for your amazing request. You always ask for something extra and I love it.

Here's a continuation to the Crosshair x Sith!Reader you wanted. I did write it with a f!reader in mind.

What You Deserve - Part 2

Warnings: Possession, anger, shock, pleading, twisted love, Sith!reader, extreme reactions, force choking, unintentional choking, fear, worried for someone else's welfare, convincing someone to leave, civil war, I think that's it. If I miss anything please let me know.

Previous

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Hunter stood looking at Crosshair, shocked by his declaration. Wrecker, Echo and Omega all shared a similar shocked expression, granted in varying degrees. Tech however, remained stoic and kept his eyes on you, his hand ready by his side; almost as though he knew his brother wouldn’t have joined them and for one specific reason, you. 

“You’re not coming?” Wrecker asked once more hoping he’d heard incorrectly.

“I’ve made my decision.” Crosshair gently repeated as he shifted closer to you. 

When the two of you headed towards the planet, Lannik, the last thing you expected was … well a few things. One, actually finding Jedi sympathizers, and a hub to smuggle them and the Jedi from. The second being, Crosshair’s family. You hadn’t expected to find them helping Jedi sympathizers; and when you both ran into them, it caught you completely unaware. That brief second you hesitated, allowed for the transport ship to make its escape, and for the two of you to be captured by Crosshair’s family. Finally, the last thing you expected was for there to be some sort of civil war, between those in favour of the Empire and the rebels. Somehow, you ended up being caught in the middle of a firefight, and before you knew it, his family had brought you to a safe place. Everything happened so fast, you couldn’t even get it clear in your own head. Of course, that could also have something to do with the concussion you were currently suffering from.

Truthfully, you could’ve avoided all of it, but then that would mean doing the very thing you’d sworn you wouldn’t do; make decisions on Crosshair’s behalf. Even though everything inside of you was screaming to keep him all to yourself, to hide him from anyone else. 

When Hunter offered him a chance to leave your side and go back to them, you felt your blood beginning to boil, wanting to just erase them from before you; however, for Crosshair’s sake you held back. 

It took all your strength and effort not to kill his family right there and then. The fear of being on your own again, of not being able to find someone that makes you feel the way Crosshair does; someone who makes you feel safe and secure. Having to face your Master without support. The fear began to grip your heart, as you felt it fuel your anger. 

“We all have different choices to make.” Hunter continued, completely oblivious to the turmoil you were under the more he spoke, “Are you sure about this? About staying with …” he motioned towards you. He couldn’t bring himself to say your name. 

Crosshair turned to look at you, a small smile on his lips, it quickly disappeared as he faced Hunter again.

“I’m sure.”

“You could die because of her or she might make you kill for her.”

He turned once more to look at you, "Look at her --“ he turned back to face Hunter, resolution in his eyes and determination set in his face, as a slight smirk appeared on his lips, “I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way -- what bliss."

Tech shook his head, “She may have you under mind control.”

“I. Would. Never. Do. That.” You hissed through gritted teeth, your voice low and dangerous as you spoke towards goggles, your anger was becoming harder to control as it simmered just below the surface, taking a step closer, your hand moved toward your lightsaber without thinking, a clear warning to his brothers. 

Crosshair could see in your eyes, the slight hue of red beginning to appear, he knew they were pushing your buttons and he needed to bring you back down, he held his hand out towards you keeping you back as he shook his head. 

“I know, sweetness.” The term of endearment slipping out, hoping it would break through your anger, “Just ignore him. I know you’d never hurt me.”

You narrowed your eyes at his brothers as you nodded, you had enough of this nonsense. All you two had been listening to for the past hour was them trying to convince him to leave you, and come back to them. All it did was keep pushing you closer to the edge, the anger within you at its breaking point. You didn’t want Crosshair’s attention deviated, you wanted him to be focused solely on you, and not having to listen to his brother’s conversations, not wanting their opinion to influence him. 

The last thing you wanted to keep hearing was them trying to convince the one you wanted to leave your side. 

Regardless of what they had to say, he was yours. 

How it actually happened, was still a bit of a mystery to you, but at some point during the hyperspace journey, to this horrendous planet, you both finally admitted your feelings. 

And now he was yours to love. 

Yours to care for. 

Yours to have by your side. 

He was yours, he couldn’t leave. 

He couldn’t leave. 

You’d never let him leave, not now that you just found each other. The only way he’d ever be allowed to leave, would be either by his death or yours. 

However, if his brothers weren’t around, all of this would be moot. If only his brothers could die… had died on Kamino. With each passing thought, your anger grew stronger, fiercer, more possessive.

Crosshair stepped into your field of vision as he saw your fists clench, your eyes shifting to their reddish hue. He cupped your cheeks, holding your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. To see him, not his brothers. “Cyar’ika, calm down. I’m not leaving you. Not now. Not ever. I’m here. I’m by your side. Look at me, cyar’ika. Look at me.”

Your eyes focused on him, the anger within you slowly subsided. You closed your eyes and let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, as the pounding in your chest, and the whispers of voices in your head diminished. You let go of your clenched fists, and held his wrists. 

As soon as you released your fists there was a collective gasp of coughing, as all his brothers kneeled on the floor gasping for air. Omega, had been the only one not affected as she ran between her brothers providing any sort of comfort or relief she could. 

Shock and surprise filled your face, when you opened your eyes and saw the damage you caused. Seeing his brothers on the ground, gasping for air wasn’t what you wanted, even if you thought about it, you never wanted to actually hurt Crosshair or his family.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You repeated over and over again, as tears streamed down your cheek, “I didn’t mean to … it was an accident… I’m sorry…” 

“Shhh” Crosshair placed a kiss on your forehead as he held you close, he glanced over his shoulder to Hunter who was kneeling on the ground, as he began to breathe normally, Omega’s hand on his shoulder. He knew it wasn’t your fault, sometimes you couldn’t control the beast within, as you called it, “You should leave. We’re fine.”

“Crosshair, she’s dangerous. She’ll turn on you too.” Hunter pleaded one last time.

“No. She won’t.” Crosshair looked into your eyes, his trust and faith evident in every look, smile and word utter from his mouth, “Just like I’ll never turn my back on her.” He held you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, as he guided you away. “Let’s go, cyare.”

You nodded, enjoying the closeness.

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[bonefall]

what do you of "the man who sold the world" for fallenleaf? friend is getting me into nirvana and i cant do anything without thinking of the Beasts

Hmm... honestly? I think it fits other characters much better!

Man Who Sold The World always reads to me as like... a dangerous character, could be a demon, could be an evil parent, could be a more literal villain in some kind of story, who has unambiguously gotten its ass kicked and banished. In its defeat, it realizes that it can turn it around; by trying to convince one of their Victims to join them.

And succeeding.

(and it's why Nirvana's version is my favorite, Cobain's voice is just the right amount of hoarse that makes me feel like the Victim Character has lost a lot of sleep over it. Vulnerable and open to the offer of the Villain, possibly on the brink of desperation in their own life. It has that sort of angsty-young-adult madness that makes choosing bad decisions sooo much easier. Bowie's and Ure's versions are also fantastic, but imo they're a lot more dreamlike, like the victim is being more entranced than convinced!)

The song isn't about breaking out of that cycle. It's about "laughing and shaking his hand," returning home almost unaware of any change. But over many years, in tiny little ways that add up into even bigger ones, slowly the Victim becomes another man who sold the world.

They doesn't even realize when they died alone along their quest, just that it must have been long, long ago.

Some of that fits Fallenleaf, but it's not quite the same vibe. She killed Ashfur in revenge. She sought out Sol and took his deal for power, and tried to kill her own brother. She subjugated an entire Ancient Lake society-- and the only thing she can really blame Sol for is how it got bored of her and kicked her out of her own body.

Those were things she did. And they're things she lives with. Trickery was less a part of it than she might have wanted to believe at some point in her long, guilty life.

NATURALLY I'm inspired by Cheecat's really great animation they made with Brambleclaw and Tigerstar, and I think it fits Tigerstar to a T, but who I always think of is Hawkfrost.

Especially in BB, where RiverClan raised him to lean into his legacy. Not Clanborn, from a young age he had to work twice as hard, prove that he and his sister were "worth" keeping around, told that they were only protected by that diluted Tigerkin blood that trickles through their veins and that Tigerstar was an ideal to live up to...

Only the thinnest veneers of, "Be what he was, without his flaws" to hold him back from fully adopting everything his father ever stood for. A father he never met, who hurt his mother, who killed and traumatized countless clanmates.

And then Hawkfrost sees him. The song kicks in. "I thought you died alone, a long long time ago."

"Not me. I never lost control." It means that those "flaws," they weren't so bad. "You're face to face with the man who sold the world" and I can teach you the value of that.

He leaves that exchange feeling warm. "I laughed and shook his hand." He goes through the destruction of the forest (looking for form), the great journey (and land), and eventually finds himself in all the conflicts of TNP. No one knows at what point he stopped being the noble young warrior who stood up for Reedpaw against his tormenters, or when wanting to protect his sister became abuse and belittling.

But at some point, he died alone, long before his heart stopped beating on that stake.

He ends up in the Dark Forest with his father, preparing for the change that's coming in OotS, but not by the end of the song. At the end of the song his father has successfully dragged him down to his level, singing the same tune, trying to pretend that his dad getting him pointlessly shish-kebabed for a petty personal dispute wasn't a critical L to the chest.

[sebsbarnes]

heyyyy hope it makes sense when i explain for tan x reader. So reader and twins work together sometimes so are kind of friends in the field and she gets on really well with lemon and with tan too but they bicker a lot sometimes. Basically there is this get together thingy for ther organization or smth and lemon is quite sociable and talks with alot of people and tan is kinda quiet so is kinda bored when it comes to these things since lemon is just chatting to anyone so when reader and ladybug (cuz they're kinda work buddies) arrive to the party and reader sees tan just standing by himself she goes over to him and they just end up chatting and having a laugh (maybe a bit drunk) the whole night and lemon and ladybug are just laughing when its time to go and they are both getting along better than anyone thought possible. Its kinda detailed but i hope it makes sense :)))

hey!! ahh this is a good idea! and it made perfect sense to help me outline what to write, thank u!

new friends, new love || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

warnings: mentions of injuries , language, normal ole' bullet train stuff

word count: 1.3k+ ; fluff

masterlist

a/n: this is kinda dialogue heavy which normally isn't my style so eek i hope that's okay

"play nice," you hissed, "you still aren't in their good graces. you're lucky i'm friends with them so they didn't hunt you down after japan."

ladybug groaned at the force of your finger pointed in his chest, "yeah yeah," he dismissed you.

with that, you rolled your eyes and entered the building. it was a private event, a get-together really, thrown by the organizations that hire you out for contract jobs. a chance to network and meet some faces that you may not have seen in a while.

"there they are!" a voice yelled startling you and ladybug. coming at you was lemon with a wide grin on his face. he pivoted around and threw his arms over yours and ladybug's shoulders.

"always a pleasure, my dear," he said to you before turning to ladybug, "and i still want to rip your fuckin' head off, mate."

ladybug smiled sheepishly at lemon who then released you both from his grip. you diverted your attention to looking around the room. it was well-decorated and dimly lit. there was waitstaff walking around and offering refills on drinks. towards the bar was a long table piled with hors d'oeuvres. bosses you have had were chatting amongst themselves cracking jokes with one another.

and then there was tangerine. he had one foot propped up, leaning onto the high-top table. his thumb and middle finger holding onto the whiskey glass. he was far away from anyone else at the event and you could see he was scanning the room watching everyone interact with one another. his white button-down shirt and gold necklace hung low near the table with his hair free of any gel. when he made eye contact with you and found your feet carrying you to him.

"hiding out?" you teased.

tangerine tilted his head to the side at you. his eyes squinting just a bit with a charming smirk on his face, "caught me."

"i really don't remember johannesburg!" lemon belly laughed.

"well i sure do!" ladybug exasperated throwing his arms to the side, the drink in his glass spilt on his hand.

"oh! and then you almost killed my brother! so, seems like we are a bit even," lemon announced.

"will you always hold that over my head?"

"yes."

"oh god. if i didn't intervene on the bullet train i think we all would've died before the crash," you grumbled, remembering how much of an idiot ladybug had been to tangerine and lemon.

"yeah your little friend is lucky you had his back or there'd be a bullet between his eyes," tangerine replied, twirling the liquid in his glass.

"would you have done the same to me?" you asked and although you meant to sound joking it came out far more serious than you anticipated.

tangerine sucked the brown liquor between his teeth, "i'd never do anything to hurt you. i'd hurt myself before i'd hurt you."

lemon and ladybug barely took a breath since they started chatting and any poor soul that walked past them was sucked into some nonsensical conversation, trapping them for at least fifteen minutes. these guys could talk and talk and truthfully it was impressive.

"ha! who knew tangerine had a soft spot?" ladybug laughed, nodding his chin over to the wall you and tangerine were occupying.

lemon chuckled through his nose, a small smirk appearing on his face, "only for her."

ladybug harshly grabbed carver, who was now standing next to them, on the shoulder and shook him slightly, "thanks for bailing on kyoto so the lovebirds over there could meet. it's kinda like i'm cupid, right? i brought her with me on the mission and now she found love! i should journal about this."

ladybug continued to talk about how journaling has helped his inner peace and how his therapist thought his progress was improving rapidly so their sessions should be more spread out. though lemon was listening and throwing in the occasional 'yeah' or 'really?', his eyes were trained on tangerine who was fully engaged in the conversation with you. he found it amusing. only hours earlier tangerine had been whining and complaining about having to go and how he hated socializing. lemon drew his attention away as tangerine grabbed your arm.

"jesus, this is a bad cut," tangerine said in disbelief looking at a deep cut with angry scar tissue, "where are the people that did this to you?"

with a devilish grin you leaned towards his face, "six feet under."

tangerine sucked his cheeks in, lips pouted slightly. he was amused. the glint in your eyes as you refused to look away from him almost became unbearable. he just found you so enthralling and if he could he'd stand here all night talking to you, leaning against the wall till he became one with the paint.

you and tangerine had always bumped heads but never anything serious. you both could take the jokes thrown at the other and sometimes it moved into a weird grey area of flirting that neither of you minded. but things really did change on the bullet train when you saved tangerine's life. ladybug was going to shoot tangerine no matter what and even you couldn't change that, but, what helped was your piercing scream caused ladybug to slightly shift his aim when he fired the gun. the bullet still hit tangerine's neck though not as deep as it would've.

"you fucking idiot, ladybug!" you roared. the whole time on the train you wanted the four of you to work as a unit, but ladybug being as hardheaded as he was made it difficult.

"i thoug-,"

"go get the fucking girl. like i told you earlier," you cut him off now bringing your full attention to tangerine who was groaning in pain.

"i'm sorry. i know, i know this hurts but you can't fight me off. it's either i do this or you die and i really don't fucking want that," you told him sternly as you basically straddled his body to keep your hands pressed to his wound.

"l-lemon?" tangerine asked through heavy breaths.

"he's alive. he was passed out or something and i tossed him around to wake up so he's okay, okay? now you need to be also. for him... and for me."

"i don't think i ever properly thanked you for saving me," he pondered, accent thick.

"there's no need to... you would've done the same for me," you winked. you two lulled in the silence, sipping at your now watered-down drinks. you aren't sure why but you wanted to hold his hand, maybe it was the slight buzz from the drink, so you did. tangerine didn't pull away or ask you why. he was grateful for the dim lights in the room hiding the pink hue on his cheeks. he hoped you didn't feel how his hands were clammy with nerves but you did and made no mention of it.

"alright kids!," ladybug yelled, "let's head out!"

ladybug and lemon approached the two of you slightly swaying from the drinks they've consumed. tangerine went to pull his hand away but you didn't budge and squeezed his hand tighter. he looked at you with a shy smile and you flashed him a smile back.

"come on," you said using your other hand to pat his chest.

"we are getting food, you guys coming?" lemon slightly slurred.

tangerine peered at you, "of course."

the four of you exited the building and walked off to get food. lemon and ladybug seemingly put their rocky past behind them as they continued to toss jokes back and forth. maybe it was just the alcohol talking and tomorrow they'd wake up still displeased with the other. but tomorrow you and tangerine would wake up with the same fuzzy feeling in your stomachs that you have right now as your hands swung together, shoulders bumped, and shy smiles on your faces like you two were forbidden to be with the other and were sneaking off into the night.

[stevie-petey]

Maybe a blurb of the first time Joyce met bug?

GOD I DIDNT KNOW I NEEDED TO WRITE THAT SCENE UNTIL THIS ASK RAAAAAAAH

enjoy <3

"whos this?"

jonathan freezes. clearly he hadnt expected joyce to be home so early from work.

a girl stands behind him, one joyce has never seen before. shes small, her eyes wide and her hands fidgety. at his mothers questioning glance, the girl clutches at jonathans hand ever so slightly.

and jonathan lets her.

it surprises joyce. her son has never been the affectionate type. he only ever lets will hold his hand. curious, joyce clears her throat. "whos your friend, jonathan?"

jonathan doesnt say anything. hes nervous, he cant meet joyces eye. they both know hes never done this before, bringing home a friend. for years joyce hoped he would, that someone would show her son kindness, but all he had experienced instead was exile.

so to see her son now, holding hands with a girl who seems to settle his wary nerves, joyce knows immediately that she will cherish this child forever.

"well?" she coaxes gently, bending down silently to meet your eyes. "whats your name, honey?"

"y/n henderson." you finally say, eying joyce up and down. its almost as if youre reading the woman, trying to find anything hidden about her. determining whether its safe to reveal yourself.

joyce recognizes the signs of a hurt child. she smiles at you, gently touches your shoulder. "its wonderful to meet you. im mrs. byers, but you can call me joyce."

you frown slightly. "but my dad always told me its rude to call adults by their first names."

joyce laughs, but the laugh isnt cruel. its warm, fond, and it quells the remaining uncertainty you feel towards her.

"your father is right, but i dont mind."

"youll be mrs. byers." you declare, your shoulders straightening as you find your voice. the shyness fades quickly, faster than joyce had been expecting. "its the polite thing."

"y/n, its just my mom." jonathan tugs at your hand. hes impatient now, eager to show you his room. he offered you to come over so he could show you his vinyl collection. "can we go now?"

you plant your feet on the ground. "you can show me your music later, id like to talk to your mom." then, eyes widening slightly, you turn to joyce, scared. "if thats alright with you?"

"id be more than honored to talk to you." joyce beams, and you smile just as wide as her.

"mom!" a higher pitched voice calls from down the hall. a little kid comes running in, his hair in a messy bowl cut and his clothes too bug. "can you help me-oh."

when he sees you, he hides behind his mom. the kid is no older than dustin. you remember jonathan mentioning something about having a brother, but you had yet to meet him.

letting go of jonathans hand, you walk slowly towards his brother. "im y/n. whats your name?"

the boy looks up at his mother, silently asking her if hes allowed to answer. joyce nods at him, brushing his hair down in a reassuring manner. "go on, introduce yourself to jonathans new friend."

"youre jonathans friend?" the kid asks, eyes suddenly lighting up.

"i am." you confirm, laughing. jonathans face burns in embarassment, but his chest opens with adoration for you as he watches you kneel down in front of his brother. "now, about that name of yours."

"im will."

"hello, will."

joyce watches the interaction as well, feeling the same opening in her chest as jonathan is. they look at one another, mother and son sharing a knowing glance.

i like her, joyce mouths to him.

i do too, jonathan mouths back, smiling wider than joyce has ever seen before.

[humming-pokemon-helpers]

pzzt! t-this ‘chosen’ stuff is too complicated for m-me…

[There’s a short video attached.

Cobalion once again is sticking its head through Vanilla’s kitchen window. There’s some light strings wrapped around its horns, though whether by chance or by somebody’s actions is unclear. Vanilla leans against the kitchen sink, back turned to the window, but replies to his legend when spoken to.

//Italics are Pokéspeech.

“I told you enough times, I don’t want anything for Delibird Day from you.”

They don’t spare a glance at Cobalion.

“That’s not exactly what you said.”

“…If you’re seeking an apology—”

“No such thing. I understand. It simply reminded me of Keldeo.”

Cobalion stretches into the house slightly further, its horns clacking against the window.

“…”

It receives no response.

“Being a Sword of Justice does not mean your every action is just. I say that as a caution, an encouragement, and an apology. I recognize I have wronged you. And wronged young Keldeo, as well. Though they could not forgive me. I understand why they could not. I understand if you cannot.”

Vanilla sighs, shaking their head. “…I would have appreciated more warning, is all. Or, ah, more choice. I wasn’t ready, yet.”

The goat tilts its head.

“I understand. When would you have been?”

“Never. At least… for this… longevity stuff.” Vanilla rests their hand further back on the corner, almost close enough for the legend to touch.

“My apologies. I am a Sword of Action, not of inaction. I tend to move quite hastily. Even now, when I believed I had been waiting and watching quite a while… I am afraid I cannot take back what I have caused.”

The lights tangled on Cobalion’s horns flick between colors distractingly.

“Then… are you here to convince me to rejoin you? Or just to ruin my Delibird Day by reminding me of all this? I’m trying to fix things here, you know. For my family.”

Vanilla looks back at Cobalion, fur raising on end. Their expression is bitter, eyebrows knitted for the first moment they turn to the legend, but the look dies on her face as she sees the beast’s eyes, serious.

“None of that, young Chosen. I am the Sword of Action. I am not here simply to reflect. I am here to make amends. Your season of penance has gone on long enough.”

The hybrid’s brow furrows once more, ears drawing down.

“What.”

“Your season spent in penance to yourself. You hold quite the grudge, fox. Especially for matters that are not of your own causing.”

Vanilla says nothing, but lets a glimmer of her teeth show. There is a low growl from somewhere.

“I say this not to insult you, my Chosen. I have experienced similar. What I have come to offer is what you requested, although in an emotional state. A way in which to honor your brother’s memor—”

“Stop it, already. What do you know of his memory? Nothing! All you ever wanted was a replacement for—”

The ‘words’ flow, snarling, from Vanilla’s mouth. Cobalion’s nose twitches at the sudden snap, yet its eyes narrow.

“Do not think that replacing Keldeo would be as simple as—”

“Oh, so they are replaceable?”

He retorts, enjoying the bite of his own words.

“I am not here to argue this topic. Young one.”

No additional words passed between the two, and no motions, other than Vanilla wincing and nodding in deference. She looked away.

“Then I’m not here to discuss Wolfgang. If- if that’s alright.”

“At ease. I suppose I should have started at a different place. I had mentioned your request. To return your brother to you. I cannot do exactly that, but… I suppose I have pulled some favors with the ‘higher ups’. Would you please accompany me?”

Vanilla stares at the goat for a moment, blinking. They rub their eyes before scrambling towards their coat closet for a jacket.

The video ends.]

[whohasfourthumbsand]

[Theres a gentle hum of a printer, the clatter of a socket wrench. You think for a moment you can smell that old workshop again.]

[A single unlabeled hard-drive falls out of the envelope, it's clearly roughed up. Scratches cover its surface, but on the top is the same pilot icon you once looked out into the horizon for. The same one that sat on his shoulders, the same one engraved into the chassis of that intimidatingly tall metalmark. A coyote, teeth bared yet simplistic in design.]

{Mj%pst|x3}

+ Ten years old, my first time on a Core World;

+ The streets of Carina were nauseatingly overwhelming. I had never seen so much motion in one place, yet, despite my case worker's protests, I had walked out into the heart of IPS-N's empire without a hand to hold. The city called to me; My own curiosity got the better of me.

+ It was there, battered by the crowds, half-trampled and twice as lost, that Kennedy and I met. He stood taller than the crowd, staring down at me like a lighthouse in the middle of a turbulent sea; His eyes held such a weight, such an impossible depth of turmoil and unease. I could tell, even then, that- for a moment- he considered pretending he hadn't seen me. He could have just as easily turned away, feigned ignorance and slept that night all the better for it. For some reason, however, he didn't. He walked over, leaned down, and offered me his hand. A traveling mercenary, he knew how to navigate as though the world were a map and he the cartographer. His confidence became mine, and, as soon as my hand touched his, that man became my big brother.

+ It was Kennedy that introduced me to the idea of independent Lancers, to the world beyond Leicester and Carina, to the school of experience and the semantics of mech warfare. His Metalmark, Crimson, and its NHP co-pilot HOWL became my inspiration for what GRAE and I would eventually model ourselves after. + Every time he'd depart, leaving notes on the fridge, patting my head and promising he'd be right back, I'd sit by the window in class and stare out at the street, waiting a stranger to lift their face and reveal his. My case was passed from handler to handler, case worker to case worker, until eventually they stopped bothering with the foster system and allowed me to raise myself. Besides GRAE, the only consistency I had was Kennedy; He'd return in the middle of the night, bruised and broken, so I would sleep with an IFAK next to the door to my dorm. I'd write notes each time I moved, leave sticky notes on the fridge when I left the house, but I figured out pretty quickly that he didn't need those, that he'd find me no-matter where I went. His presence became a consistent weight, a grounding force in my studies, the closest thing to family that I had- even in his absence.

+ The last time he and I spoke, it was brief. He seemed tense; His eyes were heavier than usual, just as sharp and cunning as before (they called him Coyote for a reason), but almost haunted in the way they lingered for just a moment too long on the door's deadbolt. + Maybe I wasn't surprised when he disappeared. Maybe it was something a long time coming, and maybe that was something he and I both felt.

+ . . . Maybe. + I think that- I know what is on this hard-drive. You can't give me anything of Kennedy's, I know that. Nothing he had could be copied or traced, save for- this, this one piece of his handiwork. + I'll build her a casket, and, in time, a body. Something appropriate, something well-suited to the machine that she's used to embodying. If only to have a companion- if only to have a piece of him to hold onto.

+ If it really is her- then, I'll have someone to remember him with. And that's the only thing I could ever stomach to ask you for. + Thank you.

[cosmicbrowniebox]

fallen stars scene one Vampire Empire

In the world of Delarus, where regal courts and majestic mislands intertwine, Fallen Stars  weaves a tale of passion, sadness, and obsession. At the heart of the story is Lady (Y/N) Shoko, a girl just trying to save not only herself but as many souls as she can before time runs out. The stage is set for an elaborate dance of power, obsession, and secrets. 

"In the maze of affection, He finds solace, weaving a web of devotion that traps the object of his desire."

pairings: yandre vampire!gojo x Ieiri! reader

warnings: slight smut but its lowk poorly written since it was my first time and it was from January

A/N: I'm reposting this since I never posted it earlier but this kinda ate I think

“To be the object of his love is to walk on a tightrope between adoration 

and danger, with every step a dangerous gamble.”

“Lady Kanna, how lovely to see you!”

The mysterious voice said in a tone too snarky for a lady of Kanna’s class. Kanna looked at the tall figure standing not far from her, his recognizable eyes staring right at her as they stood in the streets below the dreary Keep of RavenStone. Her hands moved to take down the hood of her cloak.

"I should be surprised to see you here? I'd thought you would be cooped up in those dreadful Brothels by this hour," she commented as she moved to draw closer to the man she knew all too well. Even after ages of being stuck at his side, she wished some days she didn't know him just by the look in his eyes.

The mystery man took a step from the wall he was leaning on, the armor he adorned clinking with his movements. "Dear sister, even after all this time, you still choose to think so low of me. Have I not shown you that I haven't wasted my time just paying for pleasures?" he said, shaking his head in a distasteful way. Kanna’s eyes rolled at his voice; she had a feeling inside her that he had gone and done something stupid.

"Even after all this time, somehow you manage to almost blow the cover we have had for years now, Satoru. I know you haven't fed recently. Why are you coming to find me now? You know I don't have anything to offer you," she stated flatly, her accent almost seeming soft in her usual annoyance with her elder brother.

Satoru leaned forward, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "Now, dear sister, don’t assume I need you for something every time we meet. We’ll be meeting much more often, and I’ve had more than my fill with the distasteful blood of the animals harboring within the brothels. Why do you think there’s been no reports?" he said, not revealing his entire motive of finding his sister.

The girl huffed in annoyance as she fiddled with her rings, a nervous habit she had picked up throughout the years. "I'm not surprised you would choose the whores waltzing in and out of the establishments you've visited throughout the past few weeks," she stated almost uncharacteristically calm versus her usual annoyance.

Kanna watched him for a moment, her icy blue eyes looking up at him. "You want something, don't you? Toru, you never seek me out unless it's grown important. I can't help you if it is truly dangerous, as we almost got caught the first time you wanted something big," she told him, suspicion coating her tongue.

Satoru stared at her for a moment, a bored look now adorning his face. "Sister, you are only half right. I sought you out to inform you I am to become the commander of the king's guard and only thought to ask if you knew of any food sources within the house. I am dreadfully tired of drinking the blood of common whores," he said, sticking his tongue out to show his distaste.

She nodded. "I may have a few options you could have," she answered almost in a faint grumble when she heard him announce his move to Commander of the Kingsguard. "You can't climb far in the idea of feeding off any of the royal family. It would be a quick way to have us caught. If you find a way, though, brother, I wouldn't oppose you doing as you wish, as long as I am not an accomplice," she added, her tone almost seeming firm.

A Knight catching her almost piercing gaze traveling the crowd she recognized him in a split second Okkotsu Yuta, the Sworn Guard of the Princess. "I think I might have you a way to get better-tasting blood on your palate," she murmured as she nudged him, the two silver-headed siblings locking eyes onto Okkotsu.

Satoru followed the so-called guard of the princess with an almost thrilled look in his eyes. "And how is he going to get me to the blood of a princess? Don’t tell me my little sister is going to whore herself out," he said, putting a hand on his chest in fake surprise.

She smacked his arm. "Oh, piss off. I'm not a whore. At least I'm not a frequent visitor to all the brothels in the city like you have been," she retorted, her eyes not leaving the ink-black hair she had known as if it was the back of her hand.

"You want an in, don't you, Toru? This is how you get that in," she added quickly as she fixed her silver curls. "This might take a while, so keep yourself busy, you bloody whore," she called out as she made her way towards the brothel she had watched him enter, unclipping the gold clasp keeping her cloak secure on her shoulders.

The hours passed by as if it was sand in an hourglass, his incoherent whimpers and groans filling the room, mixing with Kanna’s moans and whines as they overstimulated one another. His length buried deep inside her core, tears of pleasure brimming at her eyes as she was kept atop of them. The pace of his hips bucking up into her almost transferred her thoughts back into reality – the true meaning of why she was doing this. She had to kill him. Her eyes glassy as she heard his praise falling out incoherently from his lips. “Such a good girl, f’me just like that, pretty girl,” she could make out of the strings of words he spoke. Her lips left sloppy kisses around his carotid artery, her tongue tracing shapes against his throat as she sank her fangs into his neck. The piercing feeling of his flesh against her fangs, the pooling crimson blood filling her senses as she began to drain his body. 

Small gulps taking in liters of blood as the man slowly went silent, his body growing cold, a final breath being drawn from his body. The satisfaction shown with the grin on her blood-stained lips, dismounting the now ice-cold Okkotsu. “Such a shame you had to die, you’d been so handsome,” she mumbled, dressing quickly, making herself look decent, throwing the cloak over her shoulders, clasping the gold sigil of House Gojo. Her blue eyes trained on the brothel frequenters, eyeing her as if she was their prey. She had made her way out of the poorly lit establishment, rain pelting down. She wasn't sure how long she had been with the knight; all she had known was it grew later and later by the second. She had to find her elder brother before it had grown too late for her to find him in the winding streets of Troria.

Satoru watched his sister trace after the knight with an almost disgusted look. Sure, he’s done the same thing, but watching your younger sister go to do it with some knight is gross. Having watched his sister enter the brothel, he sighed, choosing to turn around and continue his patrol and other meaningless tasks that a king's guard was tasked with. The cold chill of the night left Satoru time to think, a dangerous thing.

The man walked down a familiar path one has walked for ages, the clicking of his armor and the sound of the wind the only thing to be heard. “Riko… Why did you half go and die on me?” Satoru sighed for the hundredth time tonight. The path he's walking is one filled with dying flowers and decrepit houses aged by time, the same path he met who was supposed to be the love of his life. Years and years before he became the monster he is today, before the streets of Troria became waste-filled streets, before the Fushiguro family became the royal family. 

The time when he and his sister were humans, humans with blood pumping in their veins who ate normal food, who could die. That's when he met Riko. She had just stolen something from a shop no longer around, the dirt from the ground staining the front of her skirt. Something about her drew Satoru to her. “Now, stealing isn’t very ladylike, now is it?” he asked, stepping in front of the girl, causing her to take a large step back. “Excuse me, as you can see, I am currently running from someone – hey, wait, how do you know I stole this?” Riko asked with an annoyed tone on her tongue. “Satoru, HEY, earth to Satoru!?” Kanna yelled, trying to get her brother out of whatever dream he was in.

Satoru, having been torn from his memory, almost hurt his sister, having been spooked, grabbing his sword hilt from his side, his armor making a loud noise in response to the speedy movement. “Jesus, Kanna, are you trying to have me kill you?!?” he whispered, sweat dropping at the annoyed look on her face. She scanned his eyes for a moment before speaking. “Not even a ‘thank you sister for opening up a spot for me to have access to good food.’ It's as if you're ungrateful,” she grumbled as she adjusted her cloak hood over her silver hair. “You looked as if you’ve seen someone we know, Toru. What's wrong?” she asked, concern almost lacing her tone as she looked up at her elder brother, almost with more curiosity than concern.

He stared at her for a moment, trying to clear his mind completely of the memory. “Nothing, sister, just thinking of when we were human, when this city used to be lively, pretty,” a reminiscent tone laced his tongue. Satoru often thought of before the city was the way it was now, back to when she was still alive. Kanna nodded as she listened to him speak, a sense of understanding between the Gojo siblings. “I'll assume you had been thinking about Amani again?” she breathed, almost a hint of annoyance at the reminder of the past. “You'll find someone, Toru, especially in the keep. It wouldn't surprise me if you found someone better than she had been,” she added, almost trying to reassure him so he didn't forget the task at hand. Satoru nodded along, deciding she was right. “Yeah, I guess you're right. Anyway, I have to go; my coronation is tomorrow, and I still have to feed. I’ll see you soon, dear sister,” he said, turning around, and throwing his hand up in a sign of goodbye. Kanna watched him leave, worried her brother would never find someone else. “Yes, goodbye, Toru,” she said, knowing Satoru had not heard her, for he was lost in his search for food.

And finally, within the last few hours of the night, both Gojo siblings went to sleep, one ready for his coronation, the other worried for her brother.