#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

[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.

-

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[mustainegf]

ELENA HEAR ME OUT I GOT A GENIUS (?) IDEA

Imagine James cheating on reader and she’s devastated and he regrets it too cause he was drunk. But one day she bumps into Dave and he comforts her cause he DEFINITELY knows how it feels to be betrayed. And soon this develops into marriage? And imagine Metallica and Megadeth are on the same festival together a few years later and Dave just have to shove it into James’s face that she’s his wife know and they have a kid together? Like it’s his ultimate revenge? Can be we have a line “I don’t know how dumb you have to be to cheat on her, no way she kept you unsatisfied”.

I KNOW ITS WEIRD IM SORRY

AAHHHH I LOVE A GOOD REVENGE STORY this is such a dave/james trope

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇 ¹⁹⁹⁰⁻¹⁹⁹⁶

What I am going to say now is that I had always known that James Hetfield had his own demons. Well, hell, I had mine too.

When the whiskey slurred his words and the nights ended in shattered bottles tears rather than I love yous. I thought I was strong enough to manage things or probably even mend it, but I turned out wrong.

I stood across our living room, staring at him, when I came to know about the other woman.

James slumped his shoulders, his blue eyes swam with guilt, yet there was something more in them, a look that told me he was somewhere else already, with somebody else.

"How could you?" My words were a whisper, choked in my esophagus.

"I was drunk, baby," he muttered thickly. "It didn't mean anything. I was out of my head… I swear it."

"Out of your head?" I parroted. This disbelief cut like a sword. "So what? That’s the best you have to offer as an excuse? You destroyed everything we had because you couldn’t control yourself for one night?"

He stepped toward me, reaching out to perhaps touch me, comfort me, but I flinched back. His touch was a branding iron, burning with his betrayal.

"I love you," he said, his voice finally breaking. "I never meant to hurt you. It was a mistake, one I'll regret for the rest of my life. Please..."

The damage was done. The trust split in two. The man whom I had loved was now a stranger to me, a ghost. I shook my head, feeling the tears finally soak over my face.

"I need a break, James. I need space," I admitted, my voice shaking. "I just can't be around you right now. I don't know if ever I'll be able to again."

His face crumpled, a look of sheer devastation slapping him in the face. "Baby, don't go. Don't leave."

But I was already walking away, grabbing my jacket, and reaching for the door. I needed to breathe.

Stepping into the rain, the droplets cold against my skin as they mixed with my tears, the sky was crying alongside me.

I don't know how long I wandered, the rain soaking through my clothes. There was no place to go. I just didn't know what to do further. Clearly, all that was clear was the impossibility of going back to James. Then, fate had decided to intervene.

I ran into him… Dave Mustaine.

It had been years since I last saw him, but the fire in his eye was clear. In so many ways, he looked the same, yet different, like a man who the years had only sharpened at the edges, this man I used to know.

"Oh.. Hey," Dave's voice cut through to me, that unique and endearing voice of his. "You look like you've been through hell."

I managed a small bitter laugh. "Something like that."

Dave took in my drenched and trembling form. "What happened?"

"James," I whispered, the name tasting like poison on my twisted tongue. "He… cheated."

Dave's face almost reconfigured: His jaw was clenched in anger. Of all people, he knew how it felt to be betrayed by James, to be messed over by one you called brother. And I could see that look flash in him.

"That son of a…" he muttered, shaking his head. "I always knew he had it in him, but I didn't think he'd really do it. I’m sorry..."

I looked down nervously. "I don't know what to do, Dave. I don't know where to go."

"Come with me," he offered without a second of hesitation. "Stay at my place for a while. You don't need to be alone right now, and not with him either..."

There wasn't anyone else I could turn to, and the idea of being alone was terrifying. I nodded, and he steered me toward his car, using his jacket to shield me from the rain.

The 6 years went by, and life with Dave became my new normal, full of love, and a stability I never thought I would ever have. We did eventually get married in a very small, private ceremony with just ourselves and some very few very close friends. It wasn't about all the fuss but about the love.

Then our son came along, a little ball of fire with his daddy's red hair and my sweetness.

We named him David Jr., though to all of us he's just DJ. Most people just think it’s his name, From DJ’s first day on the planet, Dave was smitten, and watching him hold our son made me fall in love again.

Today we’re together, huge rock festival that included both Metallica and Megadeth, among many other bands. This was the first time that the two bands had shared a stage in… well ever, and I knew what that meant to Dave. It wasn't just a performance—it was the sweetest revenge.

As the festival approached, I saw the old sparkle in Dave's eyes again, that exact fire which had warmed me years ago.

The day of the festival, we went backstage with DJ in hand. He was excited to see his dad perform, all bouncy, bouncy with the kind of energy only a 4 year-old could contain. Dave was focused, his mind obviously on what was to come, despite the chubby little hand tugging at his pointer finger.

Within seconds, in front of us, was James.

He had been standing by the catering table, talking to one of the crew members, but when he saw us, he stopped, his eyes finding mine first, then shifting to Dave's. No one said anything for a second or two.

Dave was the first to talk, his smirk curling onto his lips as he went up and down on James. "Well, if it isn't the great James Hetfield," he said, his tone with sarcasm. "Long time no see."

James met my gaze for a moment, and I thought I saw a flash of regret in his eyes, but before he could say anything, Dave moved to stand in front of me. “This is my wife, I believe you two have met,” Dave grinned.

“I- uh, congratulations…” James mumbles, offering an extremely forced smile. "I don't know how dumb you have to be to cheat on this gorgeous woman," Dave chuckled bitterly. "No way she kept you unsatisfied."

James sucked in a breath through his teeth, his face whitening. He opened his mouth to reply, but DJ chose that moment to run up, grabbing onto Dave's leg. "Daddy, are you gonna play soon?" DJ asked, staring up at his father with wide, blue eyes.

James's gaze fell to DJ, and I watched as understanding hit him with the subtlety of a freight train. This was my son, Dave's son.

Dave's smirk grew wide as he started to playfully rub his hand on the top of DJ's head. "Yeah, buddy, I'm gonna play real soon." Then his gaze drifted back to James once more, his eyes steely and hard. "I hope you enjoy the show, James. And thank you by the way, wouldn’t have my wife or son without ya." Dave grinned, looking more satisfied than ever before.

James didn't say a single word. He just stood there, dumbfounded, as we walked away.

[drvscarlett]

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.

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

I’ve Got You

Summary: Y/n always finds safety in Natashas arms, so it stands to reason that after she was injured in the Avengers fight with themselves that she would seek her out. This time though Natasha offers more than just safety, she offers Y/n her heart.

Warnings: some very slight angst, reader has a penis, sexual content(grinding, oral, fingering, handjob, vaginal sex) 

Word count: 5109        Nat Masterlist   Marvel Masterlist 

   Natasha sighs as anxiety consumes her once more. She's safe in her safehouse, well trailer, in Norway now but she still hasn’t heard anything about you since the fight in Germany and she's extremely worried for your safety. She wishes she at least knew your whereabouts. Knew if you were safe somewhere. Knew if you needed her help, or even just needed her like she needed you.

   You and Clint had been the ones sent to kill her, and she's forever grateful you both chose a different option. She was trained by you both to become a Shield agent, causing her to form a fast friendship with you both. Clint had become like the older brother, whether she wanted him to be or not. And you, well you had become her best friend. But she'd be lying if she said friendship was all she felt for you. You make her feel things no one ever has before, things she hopes you feel for her as well.

   She's never been great with feelings or emotions, the Red Room made sure of that, but with you she would be willing to try. If she could ever gain the courage to tell you so, that is. She wanted to tell you, she really did. But the fear of you not reciprocating those feelings, or of her not being good enough for you won out everytime.

   But now, after being on opposite sides during the accords, seeing you get beat up pretty badly by T’challa before almost getting captured by Ross’s men….She knows she has to tell you, because she can’t risk losing you like that again. 

   For now, as she waits to hear from Mason about any news of you, she settles in to watch her Bond films and eat her caviar. She tries to ignore the pit in her stomach, but without you by her side nothing seemed to feel right.

   She's brought out of her thoughts by a shuffling sound outside. She quickly arms herself with her pistol, standing to head to the door only for it to slowly open before she gets there.

   “I will shoot whoever walks in that door!” she calls out

   A familiar chuckle has her lowering her gun, “You wouldn’t shoot me, would you Natty?”

   “Y/n?”

   “You know anyone else that calls you Natty?” you tease as you open the door fully, allowing her to see you. She's shocked by your state, you look awful. Like you haven’t had rest since Germany, which was highly likely. You stumble into her living room and nearly collapse, but she catches you instead.

   “What happened? Are you ok?” she asks in quick succession as her worried eyes scan your face

  “Well, I didn’t really have a chance to tend to my wounds from T’challa before Ross’s men were on me. Managed to evade them for a bit but they almost got me the second time. I’ll be alright, just gotta clean up and get some rest” you tell her, attempting to pull away and stand on your own, but she can see how weak and tired you are

  Her hold on you tightens, “Let me help you, please”

  Too tired to pretend you can handle it yourself, you nod and let her lead you to the small bathroom. You sigh as she leans you against the counter, and you let your head rest against the wall as you rest your eyes. You can hear her rummage around for the first aid kit, a washcloth and some extra towels. Once she finds the items she gains your attention with a soft hand to your cheek.

   “Where are you hurt?”

  You shake your head, “Its ok, I can- ”

   “Y/n” she sternly says, “You can hardly stand. I’m helping you.”

   “Ok” you sigh. 

   You carefully remove your shirt, letting her see the bruises and scrapes that litter your abdomen and chest below your bra. Her eyes land on a hastily bandaged section of the right side of your abs, blood starting to seep through. You can see the concern etched in her brows. 

   “The Panther's claws.” you tell her and she nods

   She gently removes the bandages, causing you to hiss as the cool night air hits your wound. You watch as she runs the hot water, getting a washcloth damp before bringing it to your side. You grunt as she cleans it. She then pours alcohol on the same washcloth, bringing it to your skin once more. This time a gasp leaves you as pain ripples through your side. Again she cups your face to offer comfort.

   “Shh, detka(baby). It’s ok.” she coos, not even noticing the pet name slipping past her lips, “Now I just have to give you stitches, put ointment on, and then new waterproof bandages so you can shower.”

   You nod again, watching her grab the proper stitching materials. You clench your jaw as the needle pierces your skin repeatedly, closing up the four lacerations. You're relieved once she puts ointment on and it's rebandaged. “Thanks Tasha”

   “Of course, do you have any other injuries?” she asks, obviously still concerned about you

   “Yeah..” you sigh, “Left thigh. One of Ross’s guys was quick with his knife.”

   Her face shows even more concern, and she instinctively moves for your waistband. But then it hits her just how vulnerable this must all feel for you and she can’t help the blush that rises to her cheeks as she hesitates, “Can I…?"

  You chuckle, "Don't know how you'd stitch me up otherwise"

   She nods and proceeds to pull them down around your knee. The slice is caked in dried blood, a small trickle still running down your thigh. 

   “Shit, this looks pretty deep.” she exclaims, getting up to grab the washcloth

   She runs it under warm water again, watching you out of the corner of her eye as she does so. Your breathing seems normal, but you're definitely exhausted. You need rest, food, and plenty of water. She's determined to give you all those things and won’t take no for an answer. She won’t let you give an excuse about how the team being separate will be safer and how you only came to her because you knew she'd have the supplies you needed to tend your wounds. Not that she thought you'd say that, but the fear of you leaving now that you were here with her was immense.

   You grunt as she presses the cloth over your wound. She's careful, yet tentative enough to get most of the dried blood off you. She rinses the cloth out, pouring alcohol on it before approaching you again. Her eyes rake over your body once more, just to make sure you aren't hiding anything from her and she's glad you're too tired to have your eyes open, otherwise you would have seen her blush when the slight bulge at the front of your boxers caught her gaze. She quickly refocused on the task at hand, pressing the cloth against your thigh again.

   “Fuck!” you shout, not expecting it to burn worse than your side had

   Natashas apologetic eyes meet yours, “I know. I’m so sorry, it'll be over soon.”

    Her free hand instinctively rests on your abdomen as she rubs soothing circles on your skin. You nod, knowing it has to be cleaned no matter how much pain that brings. She removes the cloth and grabs the equipment for stitching you up once more. You clench your jaw as she works to close up the wound. Her soft hands remain on your thigh a few seconds longer than necessary after she bandages you up, not that you mind.

   “There. That should do for now, but I’ll need to redress them again tomorrow.” she says as she stands, “Are you going to need help?”

   “I can manage” you tell her, not believing it entirely yourself but you knew that if you were ever privileged to see Natasha naked, you didn’t want it to be because you needed help while injured. 

  She nods, “Alright, I’ll leave you some clothes on the counter and I’ll be in the next room in case you need me”

   You let your shoulders slump as she closes the door and you take a shaky step towards the shower. Eventually you manage to get your bra and boxers off and you step into the already running hot water. You let yourself relax, holding yourself up by leaning against the cool tiles. The door opens and you tense up slightly before remembering it was just Nat with your clothes. 

   You don’t realize she lingers a moment, wishing to check on you and longing to be able to join you. She decides against asking if you were alright, not wanting to come across as overly concerned, even though she was. She simply sets your outfit down before exiting the room once more. She takes a seat on the edge of her bed and waits as her leg bounces with anxiety. Part of her wants to tell you how she feels, to hold you and never let go. But the other part screams at her about love being a weakness, about how you deserve someone with a less bloodstained ledger and hard to escape past.

   She's brought from her thoughts when you emerge from the bathroom, a slight wobble to your step. She has to resist smiling like the lovesick woman she is when she sees you in her sweatpants and shirt.

   “You alright?”

   “Yeah. Just tired.” you reply, not wanting to tell her you couldn’t remember when your last meal was. She always has been good at calling your bluffs though, she was a trained spy afterall.

   She smirks, “Want some take out? I've got plenty of leftovers from earlier.”

   You sigh, “Yes please.”

   “Come on, we can sit on the couch and watch something as we eat.” 

   “What Bond film did I interrupt?” you ask with a chuckle

   She scoffs, pretending to be annoyed that you knew her so well, “Moonraker”

   “Not one of the best ones, but not one of the worst ones either.” you reply, earning yourself an eye roll from her.

   You sit on the couch and soon she joins you, takeout containers in hand. She doesn't say anything as she watches you scarf down the food, she only smiles knowing that she's able to take care of you. You sit back with a hum as you absentmindedly scoot closer to her, seeking out comfort and warmth. It isn’t long before you end up falling asleep tucked into her side with your head on her shoulder. 

   Carefully she turns, bringing you into her chest as she lays back, her arms wrap protectively around you as your head now rests on her chest. She watches you for a bit, wanting to make sure you were sound asleep before she places a soft kiss to the top of your head.

   “I’m so glad you're safe” she whispers into your hairline

 She isn't aware of when she fell asleep and she isn't aware as to why she's suddenly woken up, until she realizes she no longer feels the weight of you on top of her. She immediately sits up, and when she doesn't see you anywhere she can feel her panic build. 

   “Y/n?” she calls out as she enters the bedroom. She lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she'd been holding when she sees you emerge from the bathroom

   “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” you tell her, “I just needed some pain killers”

   She shakes her head, “It’s ok, did you find them?”

   “Yeah, I got them.” your brows furrow as you notice her disheveled state, “What's wrong?”

   “Nothing, I just…” she trails off, but your hand on her shoulder encourages her to continue, “I was worried that you left.”

  Her admission was quiet but you heard it, and there was no mistaking the vulnerability in her voice. It tugged at your heart. “I’d never leave without saying goodbye first Natty. Besides, I’m much too injured to travel right now. I’m lucky I made it to Norway.”

  “Don’t say that” she says, taking a seat on the bed

   “Tasha, I was bleeding profusely on the airplane runway, which led Ross’s men right to me. I had to fight them off and flee while patching myself up as well as I could. Then once I thought I’d lost them, they ambushed me in Serbia and nearly sliced my artery open. You were my only safe option, if I hadn’t found you…well it wouldn’t have been good” you reason with her

   Her jaw clenches as she looks away from you. She fights back the tears in her eyes, not liking how close of a call you had actually had, “I should have helped you. I shouldn't have talked with Tony and then ran, I should have just gone to you and ran with you.”

  “It’s ok, you- ” you try

   “No Y/n” she takes a deep breath, “I saw that you were hurt fighting T’challa, and still I went to help Steve instead. Ross could have had you arrested or worse, and instead of making sure you were safe, I saved my own ass.”

   You sigh and take a seat beside her. You gently grab her hand, “You couldn’t have risked helping me and you know it. You double crossed Tony and Ross and we both know neither of their egos would allow that to go unpunished. They would have used your background against you”

   “I don’t care. You could have died, and I never would have forgiven myself” she admits

   “But I didn’t.” you remind her, “I didn’t die. I’m ok.” She finally looks at you and you can see the unshed tears in her eyes. You smile softly, cupping her face and bringing your forehead to hers, “I’m right here.”

   She nods as a few tears finally slip down her cheeks, “I was really worried about you. I’m glad you found me”

   “So am I” you admit, “Though, it’s more like Mason found me, then told me where you were.”

   She chuckles, “Well, I’ll be sure to thank him. Even if he did give me Fanny as an alias.”

   “He didn’t!” you laugh out

   “Oh he did. Fanny Longbottom.”

   The two of you erupt into laughter as you think about the ridiculous name. Her gaze shifts to you smile, the one she's always loved to be the cause of and your gaze shifts to her eyes, you have always loved how they seemed to sparkle when she was happy. 

  Lost in her eyes, you don’t notice how you've begun to lean into her, you only notice when your lips lightly press against hers. But you quickly pull away, afraid she wouldn’t reciprocate the gesture or would be upset with your advances. However your attempt to move away is quickly stopped by her arms as they wrap around your neck to keep you close.

   “No, please” she rasps out, her hands tangling in your hair, “Please kiss me”

   You surge forward, connecting your lips once more as your hands grip at her waist. She hums and gently straddles your lap, careful of your injured leg as she grinds down against you. Your hands make their way under the back of her shirt, traveling up her back and leaving chills in their wake. She moans, allowing you to slip your tongue inside her mouth. 

   She grinds down again, and this time she can feel how the bulge in your pants is beginning to harden as it presses against her ass. You can’t help the moan that leaves you as you feel her against you. Her excitement and hope for finally getting to be with you grows the longer you keep your lips on hers. 

   She pulls away, nearling panting for air as she grinds down once more. And your mouth moves to her neck as your hands go further up her back. She relishes the groan she feels against her skin when you realize she's already braless and she shudders as your hands move to the front of her, gently running up her abdomen before palming her breasts. You can feel her breathing quicken as your thumb skims over her hardened nipples. She grinds against you again and you squeeze the soft mounds in your grip causing her to moan.

   “Is this ok?” you breathe against her neck between kisses

   She eagerly nods, “Yes…please don’t stop”

   You move back up her neck, kissing her softly as your hands grab the bottom of her shirt. You pull it off her and nearly forget how to breathe when you see her naked upper body in front of you. Yes you'd seen her in tank tops before for training and immaculate dresses for parties, but this was entirely different. Before you had to admire subtly from across dancefloors and training mats. You didn’t have to do that now, she wanted you to see her. All of her.

   Natasha shys under your gaze, finding herself somewhat nervous as your eyes take in every inch of her. Some of her scars had never been seen by anyone other than her and those that inflicted them or stitched them up and she worried what you would think of them. Your thumb gently traces a longer scar that rests slightly lower than her breasts near her sternum causing her to realize how badly she wants your hands back on her. She's about to ask you to touch her again like you were earlier, but then your head is moving towards her chest and as your lips touch her skin she finds it very hard to form words.

   "Y/n…" she whispers, clutching at your forearms to ground herself

   You hum, briefly pulling yourself away from her chest, “You're so beautiful Natty”

     A shy smile makes its way across her face, accompanied by a light blush and the way she squeezes her thighs together does not go unnoticed by you. You gently kiss the scar again before moving over to one of her breasts. You suck her hardened nipple into your mouth causing her hands to grasp at your shoulders as she arches into you. Your hands move to squeeze her ass as your mouth moves to give her other breast the same attention. She moans when she feels your hardened cock rubbing against her, and she finds herself desperate to feel you inside her. She can feel her arousal dripping from her and she knows her panties are ruined.

   “I want you, detka(baby). Need you so badly, please” she whispers against your lips as they meet hers for another kiss. Your heart pounds in your chest as you quickly remove her from your lap and lean her against the beds pillows and headboard

    You stare at her for a moment, taking in the way her lips are slightly parted and her chest heaves as she breathes deeply. Then you meet her gaze, “Are you sure?”

   “Yes” she nods, “I’ve never been more sure about anything, or anyone”

   You smile before connecting your lips to hers again, letting your hands trail down to her hips before moving them back up to cup her breasts. She desperately clutches at your shirt, overcome with the urge to have you as close as possible despite already having you there. Your hands make their way back down to her hips and your fingers slip below the waistband, ready to pull them down completely. But before you can do so her hands grab your wrists and she pulls away from your lips. She pauses for a moment, her eyes scanning your face.

   “You're sure about this too, right?” she asks, insecurity lacing her tone

   “Of course I am. I only want you.”

   She smiles widely, letting go of your wrists so you can continue to pull her pants from her body, and you stare in amazement at the wet patch that you find on her underwear. She shifts slightly under your gaze, wordlessly trying to hasten your movements.

   “You're soaked” you whisper as you let your thumb press the damp fabric against her clit, making her hips jump, “And so sensitive”

   She lets out a breathy moan as you rub your thumb in slow circles and her grip on your shirt tightens, “Need more. Please detka(baby)”

   “Aww, is my thumb not enough for my needy girl?”

   She shakes her head, “No, need your cock please. Wanna feel you”

   “Fuck baby…I wanna feel you too, but I gotta get you ready for me first.” you explain as you finally pull her underwear off her. She automatically spreads her legs further apart for you and you praise her by caressing her thigh, “Gonna taste you first though”

   Her breath catches in her throat as you lean in, your tongue kitten licking her sensitive nub before parting her open and slipping inside, “Ooh!”

  You hum, enjoying the flavor of her and her hands grip onto your hair tightly, practically forcing you to bury your face in her cunt. Not that you would complain about such a thing, you’d gladly give her whatever she wanted. Which is why you slip a finger inside her too. You pump your digit in and out of her at a steady rhythm as your mouth focuses on her clit until she's nearly dripping onto the sheets. Then you slip a second one in. She moans at the stretch, arching into you

   “That's it. You're taking my fingers so well baby.” you praise, curling them inside her making her walls clamp down around you, “Does it feel good, Natty?”

   “Blyad'(fuck)! Yes!” she answers, fists tightening in the sheets

   You hum, “You like having my fingers inside you?”

   “Oh god yes!” she's cut off by her own moan as you move your fingers even faster, “I’m…I’m gonna- ”

   “Go ahead baby, cum for me”

   “Y/n!” she shouts as she cums into your mouth. You happily swallow it all and continue your mouths and fingers movements to help her ride out her high, only stopping when her grip on your hair lessens and she whimpers in protest

   You crawl back up her body, placing soft kisses against a few scars before reaching her lips once more. She sighs as you rest against her and wraps her arms around your neck as you make out. Eventually her hands begin to tug at your shirt and you separate to allow her to pull it off you. 

   You chuckle as she simply stares at your chest licking her lips, and you move one of her hands to your breasts, “You can touch”

   That's all the encouragement she needs and she brings her other hand to your other breast, letting her thumbs rub against your nipples as they harden in the cool air. She brings her mouth forward and latches onto one of your nipples, sucking on it as her hand pinches the other and you moan at the sensation

   Wanting to make you feel just as good as you’d made her feel minutes ago she lets her free hand wander down between your bodies, and you're so focused on the feeling of her mouth as it makes its way up to your neck that you don’t even notice her hand slip your pants and boxers down, freeing your cock, until her lithe fingers are wrapping around you. 

   “Shit Y/n” she mumbles as she slowly begins stroking you, your size surprising her slightly. Your hips jerk forward at the sensation and it doesn’t take her long to find a decent pace, your breathy moans and grunts only encouraging her

   “Just like that baby, feels so good” you grunt, resting your forehead against her collarbone

   “Yeah? You gonna cum for me?” she asks, rubbing her thumb against the large vein on your shaft

   You rut into her hand, “Fuck! Yes!” 

   “Come on detka(baby), cum”

   Spurts of white hit your stomach and hers as you release and the way you moan has arousal pooling in her belly once more. After a few more strokes she lets you go and you practically collapse against her as you regain your composure. Her hand comes into view, a few drops of your cum on it still, and you watch as she cleans them off with her tongue. That action alone has you getting hard again and she smirks when she feels it.

   “You like watching me taste you?”

   “You don’t even know” you groan out, moving positions to be above her once more, “You ready for me baby?”

   She nods, “God yes, please”

   You line yourself up with her entrance and smack the head of your dick against her clit a few times before sliding inside. You bottom out in one swift movement and a guttural moan leaves her at the feeling of being stretched so wide. She's even tighter than you thought she'd be and the way she's squeezing you already has you light headed, so you still for a moment to allow you both to adjust.

   After a few minutes she wiggles her hips slightly, her green eyes boring into yours, “Please move now. I can handle it, I promise”

   You smile and kiss her softly before slowly beginning to thrust your hips. Her tits bounce as you move and you can’t help but lean down to suck marks against their plump flesh. Her moans only increase in frequency and volume as your pace picks up and her hands grip onto you so tightly that you know her nails will be leaving marks behind.

   “Your pussy fits me so well baby. Feels incredible” you praise, cupping one of her breasts and squeezing

  “O bozhe(Oh god).” she manages to get out between her moans, “I’ve never been so full, feels so fucking good”

  “Gonna be even more full when I cum inside you” You tell her, moaning as her walls flutter around you, “Oh you like that huh?”

   She nods, “Yes, please cum inside me detka(baby)”

   You start pounding into her even harder then, eager to give her what you both so desperately want. After a few more thrusts she wraps her legs around you, and you can feel by the way she tightens around you that she's close.

   “That's it baby, make a mess on my cock”

   She throws her head back with a moan of your name as she cums hard around you, sending you head first into your own orgasm. You moan as you paint her walls white with your seed. You continue to thrust your hips to prolong the pleasure for both of you only stopping when she's a shaking mess beneath you. 

    “Shh it's ok Natty I got you.” you coo, stroking her cheek, “You did so well baby. Such a good girl”

   “Your good girl” she mumbles with a smile, making your chest fill with warmth

   You nod and bring your forehead to rest against hers, “My good girl”

   After a few more minutes you slowly pull out of her, watching a bit of you cum leak out of her as you do and she's struck by how full she still feels. She can’t even imagine how much cum you pumped inside of her for that to be the case. The thought alone has her head all fuzzy.

   “Come on, let's get cleaned up in the shower really quick. Then we can go back to sleep”

   She nods and allows you to help her out of bed. You help her stumble to the bathroom and can’t help but giggle at the look of bliss on her face still and she quiets you with a kiss before letting you turn the water on. You both help clean the other, each feeling a sense of pride at the marks you’ve left behind on the other and even after you're done washing you stay a while longer just basking in the other's presence.

   Neither of you bother to put on another outfit after you dry off, the likelihood of them coming off in the morning is high so why bother. Instead you simply crawl into bed and under the warm covers. You open your arms for her and she immediately settles against you. She wraps her arms around you and buries her face against your neck. It's silent for a while, and for a few minutes there you think she's asleep, until she moves to look at you properly.

   “You're staying, right?” The insecurity in her tone nearly breaks your heart, but before you can answer she continues, “I mean I know Steve said we’re all safer apart from each other, but that's bullshit because there's nowhere I’m safer than with you, and I…I just got you back. I just got to be with you. I’m not ready to say goodbye”

  You softly kiss the small scar on her left shoulder before kissing her lips, “My Natty. So brave, so strong. You're not alone anymore, I’ve got you. And I’m not leaving your side. Not now, not ever. Not even if you told me to.”

   Tears build in her eyes as she lets your words settle over her. She didn’t have to be alone, didn’t have to build walls and hide emotions just to survive. She could be fully herself with you, she could be free. She could let herself be loved, let herself be happy. It wouldn't be easy and there were sure to be hard days, but she finally felt like she could do it. As long as she had you.

   Her hands cup your face, “I….I love you” Your eyes widen at her admission. Even if she ever felt the same for you, you didn’t expect her to allow herself to be vulnerable enough to say it. Especially so soon. 

   She bites her bottom lip and her stomach flips as she waits for your response, thankfully it's a short wait. “I love you too, Natasha. More than anything.”

   Her lips crash into yours and you each poor out your emotions for the other into it. You aren’t sure how long it lasts, you were too lost in her to think of anything else, but when she pulls away she stays close enough that her nose is brushing against yours. You smile at each other before the most adorable carefree giggle leaves the redhead in your embrace.

   You give her a quizzical look so she elaborates on her giddiness, “Madame B was wrong. I do have a place in this world. My place is with you.”

   “Yes it is baby, yes it is”

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69​ @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife​ @natashasilverfox​ @when-wolves-howl​ @danveration @naomi-m3ndez​ @sheneonromanoff​ @sayah13 @likefirenrain​ @nighttime-dreaming​ @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece​ @readings-stuff​ @chaoticevilbakugo​ @crystalstark02​ @wackymcstupid @xchaiix​ @iaminluvwithnat​ @lovelyy-moonlight​ @blackwidow-3​ @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito​ @yomamagf​ @yourfavdummy​ @justarandomreaderxoxo​ @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145​ @eline03 @wizardofstories​ @imthenatynat​ @marvelonmymind​ @fluffyblanketgecko​ @bitch-616 @dakotastormm​  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight

[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 :(((( )

[heeliumhaze-elle]

live and let die

「synopsis」 — it's time to face the music. the day y/n's been dreading as finally arrived: lee heeseung is finally getting married. 「warnings」 — angst, angst, angst. please dm me if i missed anything! 「word count」 — 568 words 「author's notes」 — lowercase intended. first-person pov, present tense. not proofread. — technically, this can be read with any of the enha members, but there's a moment at the end where mc says “hee” so do with that what you will. — this is based off the song 'bride or groom' by india parkman, so i definitely recommend listening to it while reading! — after finishing this very short song-fic, i debated heavily on turning it into a series of its own. i'm still unsure if i want to pursue that avenue with this story, so depending on its reception, i'll probably do something with it. — this is all fictional. the way the idols are portrayed in this story does not reflect how i view them by any means.

“i’m sorry?”

“are you here for the bride or the groom?” the usher asks once more — almost sardonically.

no, you're being too sensitive. it’s a simple question.

… with no simple answer.

i stutter on my response, or, rather, lack thereof. … bride or groom? such formalities seem strange.

the usher looks at me with a new sense of urgency as the sound of the piano echoes through the church.

i feign a smile, waving to no one on the groom’s side of the chapel.

“don’t worry!” i whisper to the usher as the piano grows louder. can she hear the slight quiver in my voice? am i going to hell for lying in a church? “i see my family over there, i’ll seat myself.”

it’s time to face the music…

so like some awful dream, i move my feet and take my seat. the procession begins and there you are.

maybe in another life— NO.

gritting my teeth, i gnaw on the inside of my cheek. there’s no use in thinking like that today — or ever.

never again.

today is about you. the both of you. today, the two of you become one.

today, my childhood best friend marries the man of my dreams.

and it takes everything in me not to run from the church in tears.

and then i see the dress.

if i had told you sooner…

in another life, would that be me?

“she makes a lovely bride,” your older brother says. and i can’t help but agree.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡♡♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the clinks of forks to glass fill the ballroom as you lean in to kiss her.

i’m seated at a table with unrecognizable faces.

you stand, with your wife seated beside you, as you profess your undying love for her. and there’s a moment in your speech where i swear you almost say my name.

it’s the first dance. the music swells and i watch you dip her in a well-choreographed move. the look in your eyes tells me how delusional i was to think my name would ever slip from your lips during that romantic speech; i see your face, it’s clear as day, you love her and it shows.

it’s over, isn’t it?

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡♡♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the party is almost over, but deciding i can’t take another moment of this, i march over to the head table with my head held high and my smile convincing. but the wedding march from this afternoon is still plaguing my thoughts, mocking me.

🎶 this is goodbye, this is goodbye 🎶

because… in the lifetime, i’m not yours.

🎶 always the bridesmaid, but never the bride 🎶

and now, i never will be.

“she makes a lovely bride, hee,” i say when it’s just us two, repeating the words i heard your brother say at the chapel — my eyes trained on your wife and your in-laws across the dance floor as they speak frantically to one another.

“y/n…” i can barely hear you over the music, but i can hear the warning in your voice. one look at you tells me there’s something more you want to say.

… but i can’t stand to be here another second. so i offer you one last teary smile before i do an about-face and walk out of the hotel ballroom — and, decidedly, out of your lives.

and i can’t help but wonder if i told you sooner, would i be where she is now?

[secretlilsis]

"And what would I know about love?" She asked him, her eyes clear - yet no vibrancy left in them. It was that moment he knew he had her. All his hard work had payed off. She was the adoptive little sister he had never known he needed. He needed her for himself, to help her heal, to see her look up to him.

"Everything I taught you." He said. She chucked bitterly, "You love me, yeah?" Her voice was sour. Yet she did not pull away from his embrace, lying close to him, feeling each others breath. "Well shithead, I know you *only* dote on me because you have something to prove to yourself. You need me to show you youre *worth* something afterall. Each time dad beats you, you come to me .. and I pick you back up again. And youre there for me. And youre devoted. And youre obsessive. But love?" He presses his body against her more tightly. Waiting to see where shes going with this, feeling slight tension in his jaw. "Maybe what you have to offer me is better than love anyways. Its as good as it gets. Its all I ever wanted." She then speaks, her voice cracking up, feeling vulnerable. She puts his hands between her legs, and his eyes widen in shock. "Ive been wanting you to fuck me for a while now.. Acting like youre some knight on a white horse.. Doting on me.. Protecting me.. Giving me everything ive ever wanted. I dont mind that youre my big brother, really. I want you anyways."

Her voice almost sounded like she didnt care at all, about anything. He knew she must still be in a lot of emotional turmoil and pain. Whatever had happened to her before she had been adopted into his family, surely had not let go of her. Carefully he started to move his finger to play with her clit through her panties, and her sweet voice vibrated against the nabe of his neck - he could make her sound like that. It felt satisfying to him.

"For christs sake.." She whispered. "I cant take it. I dont want dumb foreplay. Come on, show me your obsession then. Show me how you *really* feel."

He acted on pure instinct after that, he pinned her beneath him - roughly, yet still careful not to actually hurt her. Looked at her like he loved to do, and then forced a tongue-kiss on her, one that she willingly accepted. Fondling her breasts like a madman. Before he could think, he had undressed her and pushed himself inside her wet pussy. She was aching for him, he knew it. And he wanted her. He wanted to protect her, keep her safe - wanted to see her happy. Yet he also felt this impatience, this anger, this need to own, control and destroy... but seeing her willingly shake her hips to meet his dick faster.. all he could do was keep fucking her, and fucking her and fucking her. His hands wrapped themselves around her throat, before he himself recognised it. So gently.

"You want to do it harder, dont you?" She said as if it was obvious to her. He found it difficult to assess what the tone of her voice meant, if she was silently judging, if she was inviting it, if she was tolerating it. She had never made less sense to him than in that moment.

"Do it then. Do it as hard as youd like. Even if you choke me out one inch of my life.. I wont complain. I like that you want me like that. But love? No, thats not love."

"Its the love I am capable of." He only said in response, not even wavering, he did not push down on her throat and he did not choke her harder.

"I dont need to choke you so hard you almost die, you havent tried to leave me or betray me. Why would I need to do that to you? Im not sure you yourself understand how my love works yet. But youll have time to learn. Just as ill have time to understand you even better." Her pussy was squeezing his cock tightly, and her moaning voice drowned out any doubt she mustve felt, any reservation about him she might still have.

"I love you big brother.." She winced, sounding so in the heat of the moment. Sounding so aroused. So lovely. "I love you so much... Ive never loved anyone, ever, before.." He kissed her lips once more, forced his tongue inside once more, whilst he kept fucking into her wet and welcoming pussy. Feeling her body all over.

"I love you too." He said. She looked like she wanted to disagree, but she didnt, instead she just kept moaning for him, taking him, allowing him to fuck her as hard as he wanted.

Breathless they came undone with each other.

[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]

hiya m! hope all is well and ur doing good with school stuff. do u maube want to do something from nancy's pov? specifically about maybe her feelings on r and johnathan's closeness and how she feels a little like she's intruding/unsure if she's stepping on toes, or maybe even how close r and steve are (though i don't think she suspects or makes anything of it at this point but i'm not sure). just something about her thoughts on r and her closeness with one of the boys would be so very delicious <3

hi my dear !! im doin well and have no pressing assignments today so <3 we rock n roll. ur blurb is fantastic and i hope i did justice to nancys character shes an intimidating person to write tbh

enjoy !

“how long until they finally get together?” barb asks nancy, the two of them watching as you and jonathan walk towards your locker.

“jonathan and y/n?” nancy closes her locker. “i dont know, havent really paid attention to them.”

barb pokes her with the tip of her pen. “liar, arent they always hanging out with your brother?”

“mikes life is none of my business.”

“fair, but c’mon. you seriously cant be telling me that you dont think jonathan and y/n will get together soon.”

nancy doesnt say anything, hoping that if she doesnt respond then barb will drop the subject, but she knows she has a point. nancy had been lying before, she does pay attention to you two.

not in a creepy or judgmental way, but of course shes paid attention to you and jonathan. how could she not? the two of you were like this inseparable pair of endearing grandparents. always bickering and yet always holding each others hands through it all.

nancy thinks its sweet, in a way. to have someone care about a person so much and with such devotion. to be taken care of. it was obvious, even to nancy, that the two of you really loved each other.

its also why she kept her distance from you two, though. nancy felt like there was never any room in your little planet together, but she didnt mind. she had barb, steve harrington winked at her last week; she was doing fine.

but when nancy began hanging around you and jonathan because barb went missing, she started to fear that there really was no room for her on the planet you guys inhabited. she always felt three steps behind in the conversations with you and jonathan. the two of you had long perfected an unspoken language and nancy was helpless in deciphering it.

but she had to push down the uncertainty to find barb. thats all nancy cared about, even if sometimes jonathan looked at her like she was someone other than perfect nancy wheeler. like he was interested in her intelligence rather than her beauty.

it was nice. really nice.

no one had ever taken her seriously before.

but then nancy would see you in the background, hovering over jonathans shoulder as you always have done, and she’d feel like shit afterwards.

nancy knows you love jonathan, and the way he looks at you when you arent looking at him, she cant deny that he loves you, too.

what she cant figure out, however, is the capacity of love between you and him. despite days of being around you two, seeing all your interactions and small gestures and nicknames and adoration between you, nancy cant figure out if its romantic or something else.

and after watching you and jonathan for a few days, nancy concludes that you guys dont seem to know whats between you either. theres a thin line that hangs over you and jonathan. a thread of almost thats so precariously thin.

and nancy doesnt want to be the one that severs it.

so when she gets paired with you in the shed that night at the school to find will and barb, nancy takes her only opportunity to reassure you that shes not a threat. nancy isnt an idiot, shes seen the way you look at her after jonathan has done something kind towards her.

“i dont want to intrude.” nancy tells you, with all the sincerity and truth she can offer. she really, truly doesnt want to step over the line with jonathan. she understands that hes yours and youre his in a way that she may not ever fully know. but she still respects it.

nancy wants to be your friend.

but she also wants jonathans understanding of her, too.

its a dangerous and blurry and confusing thing.

and sometimes nancy is terrified she’ll fuck it up, hurt everyone in the process, but shes also been perfect her entire life.

nancy wheeler understands that selfishness is not inherently wrong, but every time shes selfish, the people she loves the most get hurt.

thats one thing barb taught her.

nancy refuses to hurt anyone else, especially someone as selfless as you, as genuine as jonathan, and as sincere as steve.

none of you deserve it, so nancy bites her tongue and goes to parties and makes sure to always leave a few inches of space between her and jonathan.

anything to keep everyone afloat.

[cannibalsrider]

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.

[andreafmn]

Collision | Chapter 17

Word Count: 3.2K Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same. Chapter: 17/? A/N: I really hoped I would be able to also write for Speak today, but couldn't finish on time and wanted to post as I had scheduled. If I finish the chapter this week, I'll post it, but y'all will probably have to wait two weeks more 😬😬Anywho, prepare for some feels... you've been warned. My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee Follow 😊 -> TikTok • Instagram • Business If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

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Chapter 17

It wasn’t hard to figure out that Sam was planning a surprise party for her, especially when Jared had let it slip when she was over at her brother’s home. Accident or not, (Y/N) knew just what had been arranged for her 19th birthday.

“I swear, Sam. I had no idea she was here,” Jared had said.

“Don’t you have supernatural senses, Cameron?” (Y/N) laughed. “You should have known about it.”

“I’m not supposed to be on guard when we’re in the house,” he whined. “This is the place where we’re supposed to be relaxed and unaware. This is our safe space.”

“Technically, you should always be paying attention to your surroundings,” Sam responded. “That’s literally your job.”

“Also, when is she not here, dude?” Paul added with a chuckle. “If she’s not at work, she’s here.”

“I have other friends,” she grumbled, settling on the seat next to Paul. “Speaking of, are they invited to my party?”

“They would be if it weren’t for Paul,” Jared teased. “Can’t trust him not to go off at any given point when there are other people involved.”

“So, it’s only gonna be you guys, Emily and Kim? What a party,” (Y/N) laughed. “What about mom? Is she invited?”

Sam’s face contorted in an uncomfortable scowl. He knew the question would come. The obvious tension that existed between Sam and Allison Uley had been growing for almost a year, and the youngest Uley’s arrival only worked to cement the strain that had grown between mother and son.

“Okay, here’s what we can do,” Sam started. “We’ll have the party at the beach. A nice bonfire in a big open space where everyone can be. Paul will be on his best behavior and if anything happens, we’ll just leave.”

“Why does everything have to be so weird now?” she groaned. “This whole secret keeping just makes things harder.”

“Says the girl whose ex is a literal bloodsucker,” Jared chuckled without thinking. But as soon as he heard the words slip by his tongue, regret painted across his face. “Shit, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to say that.”

“It’s fine, Jared,” she smiled comfortingly. “You’re very right. It’s completely flabbergasting that my ex and his whole family are vampires. But I guess I dodged that bullet.”

After that afternoon, the Uley pack had set to prepare for (Y/N)’s first birthday back at the reservation. Everyone in town was happy to attend the bonfire. It was no secret that the Uley girl was loved around town. Even in her absence, all anyone could sing were high praises for her. So it was no surprise when the RSVPs started rolling in.

Quickly, the small gathering had turned into a party for the whole reservation. People were offering to bring plates of food and appetizers for the crowd that was forming, they offered their grilling and bonfire-making services, swiftly making Sam’s job simply inviting people and setting the time.

And somehow in the four days that were left, a whole town party was being set up. It was a stark contrast to the bonfire that had been set only two months before when the Cullens had left Forks. That one had been a fierce celebration as their ancestral enemies had finally left the land. Now, they were celebrating the life of one of their own — her achievements and her future endeavors. A joyous occasion in honor of a valuable member of their community.

At least, it was meant to be joyous, and (Y/N) knew that. She knew she should have been excited to be amongst her people. The same people that had seen her grow and had grown alongside her. The very people she knew she could count on whenever she might need them. She knew all that.

But it was such a bittersweet moment. She was constantly surrounded by people that loved her, but there was something missing. There was someone missing.

He had come into her life and, in so little time, he flipped it on its feet. He had made her believe that every decision, every moment, every second of her existence had led her to that instance —had led her to him.

And as swiftly as he had barreled into her life, he was fine. He had taken every promise, every declaration, every whisper of love with him. And it had left her with an emptiness that couldn’t be filled by anyone else. (Y/N) could only focus on herself —her career, her friendship, her family. But never again would she focus on love. Not when she knew how it could drastically transform her journey.

“Hi, honey,” her mother said as she peeked into her room. She had been staring at her reflection for what felt like hours, even if she knew it had barely been minutes. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, mom,” she smiled. “So do you.”

Allison had chosen a long dark red dress, her black jacket toning down the color even more. She had braided her hair and had put on makeup, but (Y/N) could see the years on her face. She could see having to raise two children on her own, having to work two jobs to keep the lights on, the pain of losing her son, the knowledge that one day she could lose her daughter as well. It was all the secrets and the hardships that she had gone through, that her family had put her through.

Those were the moments when (Y/N) wanted to tell her everything, every single detail that had derailed her mother’s life without her knowledge. She wanted to confess that she wasn’t alone in her pain, that the hurt she had carried most of her life was shared between each of the Uley family members. Instead, all she could do was remain quiet.

“Are you excited for tonight?”

“For the most part,” (Y/N) admitted. “It might be just a tad overwhelming. Heard through the grapevine that almost the whole rez is gonna be there.”

“You’ve gone to many bonfires, honey,” she chuckled. “What’s different about this one?”

“That I’m the guest of honor, mom,” the girl chuckled softly. “I’m gonna be the center of attention and that feels weird.”

“Well, I’ll be right there next to you, holding your hand.”

“Thanks, mom. I would never be where I am without you.”

Her mother smiled brightly, wrapping her arms around her tightly. “Oh, sweetheart that’s all you,” she said. “You’ve gotten this far because you’re bright and talented, and so hardworking.”

“And because I’ve had a mom that made all of that possible,” (Y/N) added. “I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, honey, more than you could ever know,” Allison smiled as she released her daughter. “And I have something for you. I wanna do it here, where it’s just you and me.”

The woman reached into her pocket, pulled out a black box, and handed it to her daughter. She followed expectantly every move, excitement filling her. Inside rested a crescent moon pendant that was engraved. As soon as her eyes fell on the necklace, tears formed in the corner of the girl’s eyes.

“Is this your pendant, mom?”

“Yes, honey,” she smiled. “It had been my mother’s, and her mother’s before her, and so on. I have been holding onto it until I felt it was time to pass it down to you. And I think there is no better time than now.”

“Oh, mom, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this necklace,” (Y/N) said. “But I’ve always wondered, what do the markings mean?”

“After hardship comes ease,” her mother responded. “It’s what my mother would always say and I know how much you might need that reassurance now. Hard times pass, my darling. Even if it doesn’t feel that way right now.”

“I know, mom,” the younger Uley breathed, melting into her mother’s touch as Allison placed a comforting hand on her cheek. “I just wish that time came sooner rather than later.”

“Give time to time, (Y/N). We can’t rush things.”

“I know,” she sighed. “And I’m trying. I really am.”

“I’m sure of that, my darling,” Allison said. “But tonight is about you and not about what has happened or has stopped happening. We’re gonna celebrate your birthday and forget these past couple of months. Use tonight as your time to unwind and prepare yourself for what comes next.”

“I will. I just need a couple of minutes to finish getting ready.”

“Alright, honey. Let me know when you’re done and we’ll go down to the beach.”

As soon as her mother was out of the room, (Y/N) went back to perceiving herself. She stared at the bags that had formed under her eyes, the long restless nights evident on her face. Her fingers traced where her cheeks had seemed to hollow after months of terrible eating habits. She gawked at the lost gleam in her eyes, the emptiness that peeked behind her pupils.

She was a completely different girl than the one that had come back to La Push, and in a few months,  she would be another her. There was a (Y/N) before him. There was a (Y/N) during him. And there would now be a (Y/N) after him. Even if she had not planned for it, she would have to do it.

“It’s now or never,” she whispered to herself.

As she left her room, (Y/N) gave herself a once over. She smoothed down her navy-blue dress and put on a jacket. She was determined to put every sad thought, every bad moment to the back of her mind. He would never again be the reason she wouldn’t enjoy life.

Before she could reach the beach, she could hear the whispered commotion. Even if she knew the party was happening, she was still surprised. Where she was expecting a small group of her friends, it seemed like the whole town had come out to celebrate. As soon as she was close enough, everyone turned and yelled, “Surprise!”

Everyone she knew welcomed her with a smile on their face. People came up to her wishing her a happy birthday and telling her how glad they were she was back home. Even Charlie Swan had popped in for a bit, congratulating her and asking if she’d go by to see Bella. They gave her hugs and kisses, wishing her blessings for the coming years. It was the warmth of a community that she had not felt for four years, giving her a feeling of belonging she had no idea she craved.

“I think more people turned up to your birthday than for the last community bonfire,” Paul said as he joined her side and sat on a piece of driftwood.  The party was in full swing already. Plates of food had been passed out, children were playing, teenagers were talking, and the pack was keeping to themselves. “Hope you were still surprised.”

“I was,” (Y/N) smiled. “Didn’t think many people would care. I mean, it’s just my birthday. Not even a huge milestone. Just nineteen.”

“I think you’re underestimating just how much the people here love you. And any year is a milestone in my book,” he offered. “You made it another year. That’s an accomplishment in itself.”

“I also got approved by the board at UW to start taking aptitude tests,” she confessed. “I’ll spend the better part of December and January taking all kinds of exams to be able to slide into the next round of rotations.”

“Holy shit, (Y/N), that’s amazing!” Paul exclaimed as he twirled her in a tight hug. “It’s almost a miracle.”

“I know,” she added. “I don’t know what out there in the universe is looking out for me, but I’m glad it is. I honestly thought it would never happen. But I got the call yesterday afternoon. It’s really happening.”

“Well, they’re lucky to have you. I can’t think of anyone that would be a better doctor than you.”

“You’re just saying that, Paul,” she chuckled. “But I’m thankful for that vote of confidence. I’m just glad things seem to be moving forward. I really thought I’d be stuck in the same place for a while there.”

“I knew you’d make it out eventually,” he smiled. “Also, I got you something. And I promise it’s not sex coupons. I know I can get that for free.”

“You’re about to get those privileges revoked if you keep talking like that,” she laughed in response. “But I’ll grant you that comment because it seems Sam did not hear you.”

Paul laughed loudly, making a few heads snap back toward them. “But it’s something serious,” he continued as he handed her a wrapped box that had been resting by his feet. “It took me a while to get it, but I hope you like it.”

(Y/N) took hold of the box, carefully ripping away the neat wrapping paper —a job she was sure had been done by Emily. Inside the box, in perfect condition and wrapped in plastic, was a first edition of Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. She ran her hands over the cover. She studied the spine. She inspected every single detail of the book, and it was perfect.

“Oh my god, Paul, it’s absolutely beautiful,” she joyfully cried. “But this must have cost you an arm and a leg. You shouldn’t have spent that on me.”

“I wanted to,” he beamed. “I know how much you like books so I asked Kim if she could help me get you something special.”

“It’s more than special, Paul. It’s a one-of-a-kind gift,” she smiled as she engulfed him in a hug. “I love it so much.”

“It’s as special a gift as you are,” he continued. Paul raised his hand to her cheek, tucking behind her ear a loose piece of hair. “Also, you look beautiful tonight. I don’t think I’ve told you that yet.”

“Thanks,” she replied, feeling the unnatural warmth of his skin seep onto hers. “I’m glad you’re here, Paul. And I’m grateful that you’re my friend.”

“For better or worse, (Y/N),” Paul added. “You know I’ll always be by your side.”

“You better mean that, dude. Cause I’ll hold you to it.”

“So will I,” Sam’s voice startled them. “You might be a part of my pack, but that’s my little sister right there.”

“By a couple of months at best, Sammy,” (Y/N) grumbled. “And I can handle myself perfectly. Thank you very much.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t always be looking out for you, (Y/N),” he smiled. “Now, come on. It’s time for cake.” 

The rest of the night went by quickly. They sang her happy birthday, they passed around cake, and they told stories by the fire. The same stories she had heard since she was just a little kid. The same stories that related the lives of the ancestors of their tribe. The same stories she knew were anything but fiction.

One second, she was staring at the figures that were dancing in the fire, showing her the past. The next, she was heading back home, a heap of presents overfilling her arms. “I’m so tired,” (Y/N) whined to her mother. “I could sleep for two weeks if I could.” 

“Unfortunately, you can’t,” Allison chuckled. “But at least you’ve got the rest of this week.”

They laughed in unison, knowing that the least she would do was actually rest. The only time she would probably have a full night’s rest was that night and it would have been out of pure social exhaustion.

But mother and daughter stopped dead in their tracks when they reached the front door of their house. Right in front of the wooden door were three presents elegantly wrapped in silver paper, the same paper she had seen days before her world fell apart. 

“I’m guessing those are for you,” her mother said. “Do you know who could have sent them?” 

“Maybe they’re from the team at the hospital,” (Y/N) thought quickly. “They couldn’t make it tonight because they were pulling double shifts.”

“That was nice of them,” Allison responded, accepting her daughter’s answer. “That wrapping paper is beautiful.” 

“Yeah,” she choked out. “Can you help me bring them up to my room, please?”

“Of course, darling.” The woman took the three boxes under one arm and opened the door before following her daughter up the stairs. “Alright, (Y/N). Well, I’m going to bed because I have an early shift tomorrow and I’m pretty beat. But, happy birthday, sweetheart.” 

“Thanks, mom. Good night.”

“Night, honey.” 

Allison left the room, shutting the door behind her and (Y/N) felt she could finally let go. She felt her blood run cold inside her body, her limbs trembling at the realization of just who had sent those presents. Even though they had ripped themselves from her life, they somehow kept appearing.

With shaking hands, she opened the first gift that was tagged with a note that said From Rosalie. It was a leather notebook, the cover engraved with the words: Dr. (Y/N) Uley. And on the first page, in beautiful calligraphy, she wrote: I may not be the one who sees the future, but I know you have a bright future ahead of you. Love, Rose.

The next one was labeled From The Cullens. It was a small black box that stored a necklace with the Cullen crest engraved onto a circle charm –small and modern. And it was attached to a note that said: Already part of the family.

(Y/N) could feel the warm tears stream down her cheeks. Her lungs ached at the shortness of air, filling as best as they could as she sobbed quietly. She knew the gifts weren’t sent with malice. A high probability that they had been ordered long before everything had gone awry. But it didn’t stop the wrenching of her heart.

There was only one box left and she knew exactly who it was from. She took the long box in her hand, ripping away the paper violently. She was surprised that it had some weight to it, her mind trying to anticipate what could have been inside before she raised the lid.

On a bed of sating rested a silver stethoscope with blue rubber. Engraved on the instrument's bell, in beautiful cursive letters, it read: Dr. Uley-Cullen. In addition, a card that read For our future.

Those couple of words completely broke (Y/N) down. She fell to her knees, feeling as if the weight of the past few months fell upon her. She muffled her shrieks with her pillow, not wanting to alarm her mother.

Suddenly, everything she thought she had started to get over rose to the surface and hollowness filled her core. As the tears kept falling, she could feel the painful hole in her chest grow deeper and deeper.

He had planned a future for them. A future where she was a part of their family. A future where they would take on the world, together. Yet he had thrown it all away in a second, without another thought. Without ever looking back. He had built everything so high to let it all topple down.

He had left her to pick up the pieces of her broken heart and rebuild a life on her own. And that was the only thing she would allow him to have. She would create a life for herself, by herself, and she would prove to him that she was bigger than her heartbreak.

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[moonlitcomet]

A lil bit of a mini story/rp with some characters we haven't touched in a while. With intermittent art by @sugarratio1

Gore and violence warning near the end!

"If you really want to make it up to me you'll bring him here so I can wring his neck myself."

"That fucker nearly killed my brother, hurt my mom for decades, hurt me my entire childhood. He got our pet killed. The only way I'd ever feel happy seeing him again is if it was in the context of killing him myself."

"I still can't see him as anyone else other than as my son... but him seeing you as nothing is my fault.."

"I fought for what I believed in was right, but I never knew it would made me almost lose everything until I did"

"I'm sorry I couldn't be a great mother to your father. I'm unsure what is right to do anymore, as what I've done didn't make anything better than it was.."

I didn't expect you to offer that as an option.

"If you want to fight for him, this is your last chance."

"Your last chance." she says.

"Either you fight to try to save your son, and my abuser's, life, or I take it from you with no remorse. This is the only chance I will give you to pick what you think is the right path."

"Everytime I fight for something it is taken away a part of my life" Madiao responds.

"There is no right path that I've chosen all this time Samba."

"Yet all I ever wanted was a happy family, but I guess its my fault I have failed at that." She looks at the mechanical arm.

"My son's life is raised, fought for, and protected with that arm."

She pauses.

"This is what you're taking."

The stern look in Samba's gaze softens slightly as she listens to the plight of her grandmother. Sighing, she kneels down to be eye level with Madiao, and puts the mechanical arm back in Madiao's hand. After that, she puts her hands on her shoulders, staring her right in the eyes.

"I'm not heartless." She says softly.

"You won't want to have him leave you without a chance to say goodbye. If you care about him that much, go tell him that you love him."

Her teeth are grit slightly, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the emotions of the older woman in front of her.

"Make it count. So you won't have anything you regret not telling him."

⚔

She makes sure he feels every last ounce of pain that she and her family felt growing up.

Making sure he screams loud enough to be heard.

And that he screams long enough that he grows too tired to make any more sounds.

Gripping his heart within his chest until it cracks, beating his stomach until he coughs up blood.

Just sheer unfiltered brutality. And catharsis on her end as she finally does unto him what he did to her and her family.

Eventually when he's too weak to move, speak, cough, or even breathe, she slams him against the wall spine-first and stares into his eyes - for the first time in her life, full of fear. Full of terror at her. At what she's done to him.

And she grips his core, and slowly crushes it in her hand until it shatters to pieces. Black, inky tears dripping from her eyes, her teeth sharper than usual and her fur bristling like hackles on a bear. She can hear a distinct crunch from within his chest, and when she pulls her hand out it is covered in yellow shards, digging deep into her palms, her own blood dripping out from her skin and mixing with the blood of her father.

She drops him, having been holding him by his neck, and he remains limp on the ground. all life slowly fading from his body.

💎

When she comes home, she comes home covered in her father's blood, her hand still dripping with fresh wounds. The first thing her mother does is rapidly come to her daughter's aid, wrapping what clean wounds she can find and cleaning off the blood encrusting her fur. As much as she cleans, it still leaves behind thick rusty stains on her white fur.

That can't be him. Can it? It's his color. It's his smell. His blood is staining her hands. My daughter killed the man who brought us so much suffering. And we have the shards of his heart to prove it. But why don't I feel happy? Why don't I feel relieved? I don't feel anything.

As she continues pulling out the shards, her expression doesn't change. Samba's eyes are dark, and she's not really looking at anything other than her hand.

I feel nothing.

She doesn't ask any questions. Everything is already answered just by how Samba looks. It's been so long since Klaver had been a pain in her life and holding her back, she had no idea her girl had so much malice toward him even still. And Samba didn't look entirely relieved either.

Was it really worth all of that?

They both wondered. But it's been done now. They just have to deal with what she's done.

Samba feels numb. She says nothing to her mother, only sitting as she lets Belote tend to her wounds. Eventually she calls for her boyfriend, messaging him that she wants to see him. He comes to visit, and he hugs her as Belote continues to tend to Samba's wounds.

Samba is very quiet, appreciating the comfort from Gabo but not saying much. Belote eventually breaks the silence.

"...did you know she was going to do this?"

"....yes."

"Do... you know what sparked it?"

"I'm not actually sure..."

"...Samba?"

Samba barely jerks to attention as she puts her bloodstained hand on Gabo's back, rubbing the tips of her fingers over his mossy skin as a self-soothing gesture.

"she… I. I don't know. I went there to visit family but Madiao seemed really upset. I don't really remember anything that happened after that."

Her fingers twitch.

"Just anger. And pain. And screaming. And something crunching in my hand."

"And the next thing I knew he was dead."