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stevie-petey · 4 months ago

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episode nine: the good

Soon it’s just you and Steve. You work around one another, anticipating each other’s next move, never getting in the way. Soft music plays from the record player that sits in the den. Steve puts on one of his father’s old records, gentle rock and delicate jazz. You hum to yourself, he hums with you, and it’s a peaceful morning. Until Richard and May Harrington walk in. Neither of you notice them at first. Steve is too busy spinning you around, playfully dipping you as the music comes to a grand crescendo. You’re laughing breathlessly, but soon your laughter turns into a yelp when Steve sees his parents standing in the doorway and drops you.

Summary: the party battles the horrors of high school and leave you stranded, tw: applying for college is harder than fighting literal demons (you would know, youve done it), jonathan joins your nightmare blunt rotation, max worries you, and steve solidifies his position of Best Boyfriend in the World as you slowly fall apart (though is anyone really surprised ??).

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: cursing, allusions to previous character death

Words: 11.2k idk how or why i needed to say so much

Before you swing in: we're here !!! FINALLY at the end of season 3 <3333 im so so so excited to present to you the groundwork for what i have planned for season 4 ;) it will be ... a lot. the season is huge, its difficult and scary, and i did my best to try and capture its dread and ominous sense of doom in this chapter. please enjoy and bear with me as i prepare for season 4. unsure when i will be done planning her, but i PROMISE itll be worth it !!

“Are you sure Ms. Bote is nice?”

“Yes.”

“And that Mr. Cune won’t question the hat?”

“Yes, Dustin.”

“And you’re absolutely sure we have lunch together?”

“Yes.” You tighten the straps on your mary janes and give your brother an exasperated look. All morning he’s been freaking out about his first day of high school. You understand his fear, it’s scary starting at a new school, but you’ve answered all his questions a million times by now and Steve is supposed to be here any second. “We need to go, buddy.”

Dustin shoves a pancake into his mouth, wiping his face with the back of his hand in a disgusting manner. “Wait, but what about my backpack–”

“I have it, Dusty!” Your mother walks into the kitchen and hands it to him. She kisses his mess of curls and strokes your cheek. “Are my darlings ready for their first day of school?”

“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time, which your mother frowns at.

Dustin adjusts his backpack and gives you an odd look. “Why are you nervous? It’s not like you’re being blindly thrown into a den of hormonal creatures out for blood. You’re old now, they’ll leave you alone!”

“Trust me, the college admissions process is a worse monster than school bullies.” You grab your own backpack and start heading towards the front door. “I have to start planning what to write, I–I need more clubs, and projects, and–”

The anxiety overwhelms you. It always starts like this: talk about college, you fall down a hole of uncertainty and dread and fear. It’s been like this ever since Jonathan moved away. The minute the Byers moved, you threw yourself into preparing for college. Rationally, you know it’s your poor way of coping with all the sudden change in your life. You don’t need a psychological research journal to tell you that. In a futile attempt to control your future, you’ve become obsessed with college.

New York University, specifically.

Jonathan has always dreamed of attending, and when you met him, it became your dream, too.

“Okay, dear. Settle down, now.” Your mother places a hand on your shoulder and laughs nervously. She has about five seconds before you collapse into a mess of college admissions rambling and despair. “Let’s go outside and find that wonderful Stevie!”

Your body is shoved out the front door alongside Dustin’s. Steve’s car is parked, he stands outside it, arms crossed and a grin on his face. Your body relaxes when you see him, the buzz of anxiety dims. He’s wearing his Family Video vest, the green makes his tanned skin glow.

“She’s doing it again.” Dustin tells him, tossing his backpack into the backseat.

Steve winces. He knows exactly what your brother is referring to. He’s been at the other end of far too many anxious phone calls at three in the morning. “College?”

“Yeah, she almost had a meltdown in the kitchen.”

“I can hear you both, you know.” Though you try to seem fine, keep up the annoyance, you stand next to Steve and rest your head on his shoulder anyways. He wraps an arm around you and kisses your forehead.

Steve rubs your arm and makes a sympathetic noise. Your mother, seeing how he holds you, squeals. “Oh, stay just like that, hold on!”

“Mom, what–” But your mother ignores you and runs back inside the house. You look at Dustin, terrified. “She’s not…”

He shakes his head at you. He leans against the car next to you and crosses his arms, mimicking Steve’s earlier stance. “She’s mom. Of course she is.”

“What are you guys talking about–” A flash of light momentarily blinds Steve, and he flinches. “Woah, alright.”

“Smile, kids!” Another camera flash, and your mother coos as you, Steve, and Dustin awkwardly shuffle into frame. It’s not that the three of you dislike being near the other, it’s the fact that it’s seven in the morning and neither you nor Dustin are ready for the day ahead. Steve smiles, though. “That’s it! Everyone say, ‘happy first day of school’!”

A mess of incoherent mumbling follows your mothers command, but she doesn’t let it bother her. She takes a million pictures, preens when she sees Steve smile even wider, and she has to hold back tears. Her babies are all grown up. Dustin is a freshman now, and you’re a senior.

“Alright, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve has to quickly blink, trying to regain his eyesight. He adores the woman, he knows he’s become her favorite, but he really needs to get you to school before his shift at Family Video starts. “I have no doubt you’ve already taken the best picture ever.”

“Aw, just one more–”

“Mom.” Dustin clears his throat, urging her to stop, and she sighs.

Your mother kisses Dustin’s head, then yours, and wishes you a good first day before getting into her own car to drive to work. “Bye, kids!”

You all wave at her, and Steve opens the car door for you. Once you’re seated, he goes to the driver’s side and tells Dustin to get in the back. The engine starts, soft music plays from Steve’s radio, and soon the three of you are driving towards Hawkins high.

“No Robin?” You ask Steve after a few minutes of silence. He’s grown rather close to the girl, working together all summer, so you had expected her to drive with you guys to school. When you and him officially got together, Robin made the two of you promise that you wouldn’t abandon her. It was an irrational fear, you love Robin dearly, but you made sure to spend time with her and Steve equally anyways.

“She has band practice this morning,” Steve responds. “So it’s just me and the Hendersons today.”

Dustin shoves his head in between the two of you. His seatbelt strains against his chest, but he doesn’t care. He’s on a mission to get as much information as he possibly can. He refuses to go into high school blind and pathetic. “Steve, you were once popular.”

“Why the past tense? I mean, I’d consider myself still pretty well liked–”

“I need you to tell me what you did that led to your demise so I can avoid doing the same.”

You snort and Steve sighs. The kid really keeps him humble. He stops at a light, looks at Dustin through the rearview mirror, and shakes his head. “What makes you think it was anything I did?”

“Kid’s got a point,” you say from the passenger seat. Steve gives you an offended look and you raise your hands in surrender. “Hey, all I’m saying is that I also don’t really know what happened. You’ve got a track record of pissing off the wrong people. One minute you were King Steve, the next you were shunned.”

Steve groans. “You people have no faith in me.” He can feel you and Dustin staring at him, unbelieving. He hates when the two of you team up against him; it makes it harder for him to lie. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to tell you what happened. Not because he’s embarrassed, or ashamed, even.

He knows it will only upset you. Reopen wounds.

But you and Dustin keep staring at Steve and there’s still at least ten minutes left of the drive. Weighing his options, Steve figures it’s best if he just tells the truth. Like ripping off a bandaid, knowing the pain will be there regardless of how long you stall. “Okay, fine.” He scratches his nose, clears his throat. “It was, uh. Because of Billy.”

The temperature in the car drops. It’s suddenly ice cold.

Dustin slowly leans back against his seat. Steve faces ahead, eyes on the road, but he watches you from his periphery. No one has mentioned Billy since his death, at least not in front of you or Max.

Especially Max.

They wait for you to react. To tense up, ball your hands into fists and wipe away tears. They expect the guilt you’ve barely kept hidden to resurface, but you don’t do any of that. Instead, you surprise them. “Can’t believe you let a mullet defeat you.”

Steve isn’t sure if he’s allowed to laugh at first, worried it’s some bizarre test of yours. But he sees the smile on your face, albeit forced and terse, but he knows you’re trying. So he plays along, relieved that you’re doing what you can. “I don’t know, I thought the mullet looked pretty good.”

“Get a mullet and see how fast I leave you.”

Dustin nods in agreement, Steve shakes his head with a laugh, and the temperature in the car returns. There’s still a slight chill in the air, there will always be a slight chill, but you pull your jacket tighter around you and ignore it.

When you get to the school, Dustin stares at the hounds of teens all walking through the parking lot. He gulps, tightens his hands around his backpack, and you try to ease his apprehension.

“Hey, look at me.” He does, and you extend your arm, offering a handshake. Dustin eyes you wearily, but reluctantly he shakes your hand. You nod at him, hand firm around his. “It’s just you and me. And Lucas. Max, too. Unfortunately, possibly Mike. Copy?”

“Copy.” Dustin releases your hand and salutes you. He pushes his hat down, takes a deep breath, and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Let’s go.”

“Good luck, little Henderson.” Steve salutes him as well before turning to you. He presses his lips to yours, hums, a soft smile on his face. “And good luck, angel.”

Ignoring Dustin’s dramatic gagging in the back, you squeeze Steve’s hand and smile back at him. “Thanks, honey. Have a good day at work.”

Dustin nearly falls out of the car with how fast he scrambles out of it. He’s about to ban all forms of physical affection between you and Steve. It’s disgusting. No one wants to see any of that. You follow after your brother and exit the car.

You only make it a few feet before Steve rolls down the car window and shouts, “I love you!”

A few students in the parking lot turn, and their faces contort into shock when they see none other than Steve Harrington. He waves at them, cocky as always, and you’re both mortified and so in love. He may have lost his crown, but he will always be the king. While Dustin ducks his head down in embarrassment, you wink at Steve. “I love you, too!”

“You’re going to be the reason I end up getting thrown into a dumpster on my first day.”

“Aw, is Dusty-bun jealous?”

“Go die.”

–

The entire day it feels like you’re missing something.

When you get to homeroom, there isn’t a seat saved for you at the front. When the physics teacher drops his chalk five times within the first five minutes, there isn’t anyone to tease you for your poorly contained snicker. In the library, you’re forced to sit in a corner because there’s no one to share the plush sofa with.

There’s no one who whispers answers to you during calculus. No one who hooks their foot around your desk’s leg. No one who doodles in your notebook just to get you to laugh.

Jonathan’s absence is palpable.

You knew it would feel weird, starting senior year without him, but you didn’t think it’d feel so lonely, either. Empty. Unfinished.

By the time lunch comes, you’re slowly losing your mind. You need someone to talk to. Robin and Nancy don’t share any classes with you, Jonathan had been your only real friend at Hawkins, and now you’re paying the price.

You’re the first one at the lunch table, which you figure is a good thing. Earlier in the week you and the party had all agreed to sit together at lunch, you’d been excited to finally share the same school building as them. However, you hadn’t wanted to hover over them. You wanted them to branch out, meet new people, so lunch was your agreed upon time with them.

The lunch room fills with students and you wait anxiously for the rest of the party. You’re excited to see them, ask how their days are going, maybe even gossip about the freshmen, but when they arrive it’s almost as if a tornado rips right through you.

“There you are!” Dustin finds you first and slides into the seat next to you, nearly causing you to face plant into the ground. “Look, we gotta talk.”

You frown. “Okay, is everything–”

“We can’t stay and eat.” Mike cuts to the chase, not even bothering to sit down. Lucas stands behind him, quiet and nervous.

“What, why?”

“Eddie Munson wants to meet us.” Dustin says the boy’s name as if you should know him. But you don’t, and now you’re really confused. What does he have to do with any of this?

“Eddie…?”

Mike rolls his eyes at you. “Eddie Munson, Hellfire club, DnD?” When he sees that nothing he’s saying makes any sense to you, he huffs. “Seriously, do you not know anything?”

You throw a chip at him, hurt. “I was in choir, not some stupid DnD club.”

“Hellfire club isn’t stupid–”

“Anyways!” Dustin cuts the fight short. There isn’t time for you and Mike to argue right now. “Eddie is the dungeon master, and he’s recruiting us to join his party! We–we gotta go and meet him, Y/N. He doesn’t just let plebe freshmen like us join.”

“He’s legendary.” Mike says, and sadly you know he means it. It’s not often someone has the boy’s full admiration. Mike is hard to impress, and this Eddie guy seems to have him wrapped around his finger already.

Dustin stares up at you, eyes pleading to understand, and you know you can’t ruin this for him. Only hours ago he had been terrified of his first day, and now he’s almost vibrating with excitement over the possibility of joining some club. There will be people there like him, others interested in what he loves, and you can’t let your own loneliness ruin that.

“Well,” you clear your throat, try to appear excited for the boys. “Go see Eddie, then.”

“You sure?” Dustin doesn’t want to just leave, he knows you were looking forward to lunch today. He’ll stay if you need him to, he’s sure Mike can talk his way in with Eddie.

You smile at him, force your voice to be light. They’re growing up. You all are. “I’m sure, it’s your first day. You’re supposed to be joining a bunch of clubs, it’s a good way to make friends. I’m proud of you. Seriously.”

Dustin isn’t entirely convinced, but Mike has already grabbed his arm to go and find Eddie. He turns to Lucas, beckons him to follow. “C’mon, dude.”

“I’ll-uh. Follow in a sec.” Mike gives him an odd look, but Lucas is already sitting down next to you. Seeing this, Mike gives up and leaves with Dustin. As soon as they’re gone, Lucas lowers his voice and leans in close to you. “Hey, do you, uh. Know Jason Carver?”

The scent of chocolate ice cream infiltrates your nose, the sound of it colliding into the teen’s pants rings in your ears. The memory of it is tangible, and you have to hold back a laugh. Yeah, you know Jason Carver. “I mean, we aren’t friends, but we know each other. Why?”

“Do you…” Lucas looks around, making sure Mike and Dustin really are gone, before he continues. “Do you think he’d let me join the basketball team?”

You’re surprised. Sure, Lucas has always shown an interest in the sport. He plays with Steve sometimes, they trade cards, but you didn’t think he’d be interested in the school’s team. “Oh.” Then, you realize why he’s stayed behind. “You don’t want to join Hellfire, do you?”

“I know I’m just a freshman, and–and Mike would probably call me dumb for wanting to even try out, but. I don’t know. I think… I think I could be really good on the team. Might make high school easier.”

“Then you should go for it,” you reassure Lucas. He’s always been so careful to not upset others. He’s loyal, down to his very core, you understand the fear that doing something for yourself brings. “Jason isn’t so bad. A bit much, but kind. He’s a team player, and I think they'd be lucky to have someone like you.”

Lucas smiles shyly at you. “Really?”

“Really. Now, go and find the guy. Ask him when try-outs are, and I’ll talk to Steve about practicing more with you. How’s that sound?”

“You’re the best!” Lucas gives you a quick hug, already getting out of his seat, and runs right into Max. They collide, he manages to save her from falling, and he laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, you okay?”

Max nods, silent, and immediately you and Lucas know that today is one of her bad days. Her eyes are sunken in, it doesn’t look like she got any sleep last night. She sits down next to you, and you nod at Lucas, signaling to him that it’s okay if he leaves. You’ll take care of her.

Lucas hesitates, unsure, but reluctantly leaves when you nod at him once more, urging. If it was anyone else, he would stay, but it’s you. Besides Lucas, you’re the only other person Max talks to. You’ll stay with her, Lucas deserves to go and branch out like Mike and Dustin are.

“So, did you know about Lucas wanting to join the basketball team?” You turn to Max once the boy has left. She shrugs, picks at the food in front of her. It’s the most response you’ll get from her, and you sigh. “You don’t want to be here either, do you?”

She looks up at you, alarmed that you caught on so fast, and you just shake your head at her. You dig into your backpack, take out some cookies you baked the night before. They were supposed to be for all the kids today, but they’ve all left and Max needs them more right now. “Here, take these. Go to the left stairwell, next to the choir room. No one goes there during lunch, it’s quiet.”

“Thank you,” Max exhales with relief, taking the baked goods from you. Tears lump in her throat, she doesn’t know how you always manage to do this. To see through her, always say the right thing.

“Of course, my dear.” You risk touching her face, she’s cold, but she closes her eyes and breathes in at the comfort. “I expect to see you at Bookstrordinary after school today, though.”

Somehow Max laughs, and the action hurts her to do so. It’s becoming harder and harder to bear the sound of her own happiness. But she nods at you, understanding that it’s an order she can’t disobey, and leaves.

Then it’s just you at the lunch table. Alone.

Nancy is at yearbook, she’s told you all about her grand plan of reforming the club into something more than just homecoming polls and gossip panels. Robin is at yet another band practice, preparing for the annual back to school pep rally later this week. Steve is at Family Video, bored out of his mind, both of you wishing he were here instead.

And Jonathan is across the country, at an entirely different school, aching to be near you again.

The thought of him in California only intensifies the loneliness that you feel. The feeling overwhelms you, and before it can swallow you whole, you dig through your backpack once more. Your fingers shake as you rustle through the notebooks and textbooks, and they clutch desperately at your walkman when you finally find it. The mixtape Jonathan made for you before he left sits within it.

You quickly place the headphones over your head, muffling the sounds of the cafeteria around you. Your fingers find the play button with practiced ease, and soon the beginning notes of the Beatles play through the wire and into your headphones.

The song soothes you, it quiets what you don’t want to hear; it makes you smile. The mixtape is all you’ve been listening to ever since Jonathan left. Though it can never replace his presence, it’s enough for now.

You stare at the empty seats around you. John Lennon’s voice floats through your ears.

Welcome to senior year.

–

Miraculously, it’s Nancy you lean on the most as the autumn leaves turn orange and the summer’s heat dies down. She finds you later during your first week, grabbing lunch from your locker, and she stops you.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to spend another lunch alone.” Nancy has never been one to greet someone. She always gets straight to the point, a quality that you normally admire.

However, you feel embarrassment rise within you, slightly off put by the cruel words. Sure, you’re not necessarily thrilled that you’ve spent your first few days of senior year alone, but you didn’t need Nancy reminding you of that. “Hello to you too, Nance.”

“Shit, I didn’t mean to offend you.” She holds her notebook close to her chest and looks down in shame. It’s weird, there’s a distance between you that has only seemed to widen despite how hard the two of you try to bridge it. For a while things were good, great, even. She was genuinely your friend, but sometimes insecurities can hurt the ones people love the most.

“Not really sure how I was meant to take that.” You close your locker and try to excuse yourself. You’re exhausted, you hardly slept the night before. “Look, I should go. I stayed up all night working on stupid college applications and I just… I’m tired.”

Nancy’s posture straightens, eager to grab onto any opportunity to amend things with you. “I can read over whatever you have.” When you raise your eyebrows at her, she quickly backtracks, worried she’s overstepped. “I–I mean, that is, if you want. Not that you need the help! It’s just–”

She forces herself to stop. She’s rushing her words, messing it all up. Her shoulders drop, Nancy takes a deep breath and looks you in the eye. She never apologized for her words earlier this summer. The way she sneered venom at you, but she’s carried the guilt of it ever since. “I’m… trying. I promise I am.”

Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers have never handled vulnerability well. It’s what made you stand out against them, set you apart, and you can’t help but find this quality in them endearing. You know that Nancy is trying to go back to how things were, before one phone call between the two of you revealed the unspoken resentment she held.

You never blamed her for any of it. But you know she blames herself, and Jonathan’s absence doesn’t help; both of you miss him, neither of you can afford to lose anyone else.

So you try as well.

“I’ll let you read over what I have only if you let me read what you’ve written as well.” You nudge her shoulder with yours, getting her to finally smile. “I’m curious to see what that brain of yours has thought of already.”

Nancy laughs, relieved. “Definitely nothing as creative as whatever you’ve written.”

“We’ll see about that, Wheeler.”

Soon you find yourself in the yearbook room. Nancy introduces you to some kid named Fred, who moons over her the entire time you’re there, though she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s too busy reading through your ideas, and you find yourself admiring her side profile. The way her eyelashes kiss her brows, the soft cherry on her lips.

Nancy is beautiful. You understand how Jonathan and Fred and Steve and countless other guys in Hawkins have lost their minds over her.

You read through portions of Nancy’s writing, and the two of you sit quietly side by side editing the essays. She marks some things down, crosses out some lines, and you do the same. It’s lovely, being by her side again. You hadn’t realized just how much you missed her following the events of this summer.

“So, New York University, huh?” Nancy eventually breaks the silence.

You nod, humming as you skim over a line that you particularly like. Circling it, you respond. “Yeah, it’s been my dream school ever since I was young.”

Though you’re applying to other schools as well. A few state schools, some in Virginia, close to your father. But New York is truly where you hope you’ll be next fall.

“Jonathan mentioned that you like psychology, right?”

“Yup,” you cross out an extra word. “Particularly child psychology. Figured that after everything we’ve been through, especially the kids, it’d be useful if at least one of us has any idea what’s going on inside our minds.”

Nancy chuckles. “Fair.”

It falls quiet again, but you don’t want the peace to end. “I heard from Jonathan that you’re looking into Emerson.”

“He tells you everything, doesn’t he?” Though this time Nancy’s question is asked with fondness, slight exasperation and humor mixed in.

“Mhm, we’re a package deal. You tell one of us something, then the other is bound to know eventually.” You look up at Nancy and lightly touch her arm. “Though he still keeps some things from me when it comes to you, don’t worry.”

She laughs again, and finally you allow the silence to settle upon you. It’s a comfortable one. There isn’t a tension underlying it. For the first time in a long time, you’re able to simply sit next to Nancy and feel that she wants you there with her.

After that day, you and Nancy spend almost every lunch period helping each other with your applications.

Steve helps you, too. In his own ways.

While he can’t help you write the essays, he lets you call him at two in the morning to rattle off application ideas so you won’t forget them. He doesn’t complain when you wake him up and he has an early shift the next day. Instead, he listens. Steve offers you his own tired input and indulges in whatever you need to feel that you’ll succeed; he’s the most doting, patient boyfriend you could ever ask for.

And, secretly, Steve adores it. Especially when you call him some nights just to have him come over and hold you.

Those are his favorite nights. Tonight is one of them.

“Why does college exist?” Your cheek is pressed against Steve’s chest as you lay in your bed together. The steady rise and fall of his breathing is melodic.

He plays with a strand of your hair, you feel him shrug. “‘Dunno, but you’re almost done.”

“Yeah, just have one more application to send before I get to spend four agonizing months waiting to find out if I even get in. How fun.” Sarcasm drips from your lips. You’ve spent the last two months obsessing over it all, which words to write in your essays, which clubs to join, which teachers to beg for recommendation letters.

And now you have one application left. Then you’ll be forced to wait, without any control of the inevitable outcome.

You’ve never been someone comfortable with letting go of control.

“Everything will be fine, angel. NYU would be stupid not to let you in.” Steve reassures you with a kiss to your temple, then to your cheek, the tip of your nose, the dip of your brows. As he kisses you, he envisions doing this a year from now, in a small, rundown apartment with sirens wailing outside and a fire escape that creaks in the wind. The song of New York City.

Eventually Steve’s lips will find yours, and the conversation will be long forgotten. It’s how most of your nights end now, lost in the kisses as his breath mixes with yours. Hands will wander. Sighs will leave parted mouths. Quiet, soft, aware of the precariously thin walls.

You haven't slept with Steve, at least not yet. Though you’ve been together a few months now, it still feels too soon. He’s your first boyfriend, your first kiss, your first real love, and Steve doesn’t want to rush you. If all you ever do together is lazily kiss and breathe each other in, then Steve will happily part your lips with his and draw soft sighs out from you.

In the morning you’ll awake with Steve’s lips on your neck, his eyes shining up at you, and in the morning sunlight, before you’ve fully woken up, the air between you is sacred.

–

“I sent in my final application,” you’re whispering, not wanting to wake up your mom who has fallen asleep on the couch. It��s nearly midnight in Indiana, but in California it’s only nine and Jonathan has just finished his school work for the night. “NYU, it’s done.”

On the other end you hear shuffling as Jonathan leans against his kitchen wall. Will sits at the table with El, he sketches the early stages of a painting and she studies grammar. Jonathan watches them, his mom is in bed, and he forgets for a moment that he’s on the phone with you.

“Bee?” You say the childhood name so softly, so tenderly with concern, and it brings Jonathan back to himself.

“I’m here, sorry.” He clears his throat, his head is still slightly muffled. Jonathan met a guy in woodshop this week, his name is Argyle, and somehow during lunch he found himself in the back of the guy’s van with a blunt hanging loosely from his lips. The smoke dulled the ache of missing Nancy, of missing you. Jonathan can’t tell you this, though. You’d kill him, and he hates disappointing you. “What were you saying?”

You frown slightly, he sounds different. There’s something in his voice, it’s raspy and he sounds distant. The sound is lonely, he sounds lonely. Jonathan isn’t really here, despite the fact that he’s talking to you. The last few phone calls have been like this. You don’t know what to do.

When Jonathan left, the two of you promised to call each other every Friday, a compromise. A way to create distance, yet tether you to each other. Jonathan calls you every Friday, Nancy gets him every day the rest of the week, and it works. This is how it’s always been ever since early September.

At first you guys would talk about how your weeks had gone. Jonathan would complain about the California heat and you would tell him about how Mike and Lucas had crashed your date with Steve one night. Laughter would float over the telephone lines. Teasing, whispered “I miss you’s” and spoken goodbyes with the promise of talking again next week.

But last week when you called, the teasing was gone. The laughter was minimal. You had complained about an exam that day and Jonathan had given one word responses that had worried you. It had been odd, but you thought that maybe he’d been tired that day. Everyone has a bad day, you know this.

Yet it’s Friday again and Jonathan couldn’t feel farther away from you.

“I mailed my NYU application in, bee. You send in yours yet?” Voice light, cheery. You do what you can to try and keep him afloat. You try to grasp at the good that’s left between you. Remind Jonathan that you’re right here, still with him, without scaring him away. “You remember our plan, right? Me and you in New York, together.”

Since you were kids the plan has always been to go to college together. Back then, neither of you could fathom a reason to ever be apart. You were invincible, the same way all kids think they are before the world tells them otherwise.

But you and Jonathan aren’t invincible, you never were.

You can hear the way your question suffocates him. The breath that he holds, stilted and torn, suffocates you as well.

Nausea punches Jonathan, the smoke from earlier suddenly fogs his throat. He doesn’t know what to do. Nancy wants him to go to Emerson with her, he promised you NYU when he was twelve, and California has his mother and Will.

“Yeah, yeah. I–I mean, I sent mine in. Last week.”

Jonathan is lying. You’ve known him for almost six years; he always stumbles over his words when he lies.

Part of you wants to ask him why he’s doing this, lying to you and pulling away. Another part of you, the larger, more naive part, doesn’t want to believe it. You clear your throat, swallow down the hurt, and choose naivety. “Oh,” your tone is too pinched, too put together. You clear your throat again. “That’s–that’s great! I, um. Surprised you didn’t read the essays to me. Have me edit them, like we’ve always done.”

Jonathan leans his head against the wall and squeezes his eyes shut. He’s never been able to lie to you, he knows you’re desperately trying to overcompensate, as you always do. He hates it. He hates himself. “Yeah, well. Got excited, I guess.”

You hum, words failing you, and the line goes silent.

Dread replaces the laughter that night.

–

Before you know it, it’s Halloween and the party has infiltrated Steve’s house.

The holiday falls on a Saturday, and the party deems itself too old to trick or treat. When they find out that Steve’s parents won’t be home that weekend, they demand to spend the night at his house and watch horror movies.

Steve fights back, complains that he doesn’t want them taking over his living room, but his complaints fall on deaf ears. That, and Dustin ropes Robin into their plans.

“Oh, God. Don’t open the door!” Dustin shrieks, throwing popcorn at Steve’s TV as he covers his eyes with a blanket. He cowers against Lucas, who shoves him off, and Mike snickers. Max sits on the couch, outside of their fort, and watches the boys. None of them try to get her to sit with them. They know they’re lucky that she even showed in the first place.

“I can’t look.” Robin’s voice carries over, you can almost picture her cringing as she holds a pillow to her chest. Mike chose a particularly gory movie, and the kid’s mind frightens her.

A loud crash sounds, then a woman screams. You figure the protagonist did open the door and has now died, though you can’t be sure. You’re in the kitchen with Steve, taking out the final batch of oatmeal raisin cookies from the oven. The smell wafts through the home, bringing warmth to a house that Steve has always found cold, and he places his hands on your hips.

“You spoil the kids too much,” he presses his nose against your cheek and kisses you. “They invade my home and you bake them delicious goods.”

You set the tray of cookies down onto the counter. “As if the cookies aren’t for you, too.”

“That isn’t important. We’re focusing on my hostage house, Y/N.”

“‘Hostage house’, quite the alliteration there.”

Steve now kisses your neck, distracting you as you plate the cookies. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

“Don’t make me come in there!” Dustin screams, and Robin echoes him with her own disgusted yelling.

You laugh at their theatrics while Steve rolls his eyes. He really hates that his house has become the party’s source of entertainment. He just wants to compliment his beautiful girlfriend in peace. Who would punish a guy for that?

In his moping Steve almost misses you walking back into the living room. He follows, stumbles over his feet, never wanting to be more than a few inches away from you. You’re magnetic, always pulling him in.

Mike is the first to grab a handful of cookies. Lucas and Dustin follow quickly after. They shove the food into their mouths and you scoff at their lack of manners. They’re such boys, growing taller every day, and they’re just as disgusting as they were when they were kids.

“Want one, Max?” You hold the plate up to her, noticing that she hasn’t moved from her seat. She shakes her head at you, eyes never leaving the screen. Lucas and you share a look, the same concerned expression on your faces.

The moment is broken by Robin, who grabs a cookie and practically melts. “Holy shit, Y/N. You bake these regularly?”

“Usually once a week,” you shrug at her. “Though I once baked six batches during finals week.”

“God, that was a good week.” Dustin hums, lost in the blissful memory.

Robin grabs your arm, eyes wide with enthusiasm. “I will give you my firstborn child in exchange for my own batch of cookies.”

Steve pokes her shoulder. “You already promised your firstborn to me after I agreed to cover your weekend shift.”

“I can have twins.”

You laugh at her. “That’s a terrifying thought.”

Robin sticks her tongue out at you, causing you to laugh even more, and Mike puts the next movie on. Everyone settles back down, you lay with Steve in the lovechair with Robin in front of you. Max has the couch to herself, the boys are sprawled on the floor in a mess of pillows and blankets, and for the first time in months you feel a certain warmth having your family together.

Sometime during the night the clock strikes twelve.

It’s November 1st, 1985.

Steve’s nineteenth birthday.

Robin snores softly on the ground, arm underneath her head as a makeshift pillow. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas are all curled up against one another, their faces young again. Max sleeps softly on the couch, her hand dangles over the edge, grazing Lucas’ outstretched arm and open palm.

Steve lays beneath you, he isn’t quite asleep yet. You’ve come to learn the rhythm of his breaths as he sleeps. The way they slow, the pattern steady. You lift your head up, wanting to admire him, and find that he’s already looking at you.

“Hi, angel.” He whispers, smiling sweetly.

You smile back, you always smile back at him. “Hi, honey.” Doing your best to remain quiet, you crawl up the length of Steve and nuzzle your way into his neck. You kiss the dip just above his collarbone, causing him to shiver. “Happy birthday.”

Arms encase you, pull you deeper into the body you lay on. Steve’s body heat warms your face, warms your bones, and you wish you could stay like this forever. In Steve’s arms, the scent of him overwhelming your mind, his touch calming you.

“Thank you,” he kisses the top of your head. He lingers, his lips soft. The two of you stay like this, his head against yours, your chin tucked into the alcove of his neck. Your breathing syncs with his, his fingers trail up and down your spine. Your fingers splay over his chest, warming his ribs.

In the morning, Max wakes everyone up.

“My mom will be worried,” she kicks Mike, nudges Lucas’ shoulder. “Wake up, idiots.”

Steve groans, squinting his eyes against the morning light. He tries to roll over and block it out and nearly shoves you off the seat in the process. “Steve!” He manages to catch you in his sleepy state, but his movements are slow.

“Sorry!”

You clutch your chest, heart pounding. “You’ve done that way too many times now. I’m starting to think you want to throw me onto the ground.”

“Lucas once promised he could catch me if I jumped into his arms.” Max says, then she points to a scar on her knee. “Turned out he couldn’t.”

“Hey!” Lucas sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “I really thought I could do it.”

Mike stretches. “Your fault for trusting him, Max.”

Lucas shoves him and the two start to wrestle on the floor. They’re a tangle of lanky limbs, knocking into Dustin who still hasn’t woken up yet. They roll on top of the boy, and he wakes up to Lucas’ knee in his face. “What the hell?”

Dustin joins the fighting now, and Robin throws a pillow at them. “Guys! It’s too early for this!”

They don’t listen.

It takes a lot of pleading, negotiating, and bribes in order to break the fight up. It takes even longer to wrangle the kids out of Steve’s home, much to his dismay. They leave a mess of strewn popcorn all over the carpet and pillows missing feathers. You stay behind, offering to help clean the mess, and Robin rushes out an apology and happy birthday to Steve as she runs out the door to get to work.

Until Richard and May Harrington walk in.

Neither of you notice them at first. Steve is too busy spinning you around, playfully dipping you as the music comes to a grand crescendo. You’re laughing breathlessly, but soon your laughter turns into a yelp when Steve sees his parents standing in the doorway and drops you.

“Dad!” Steve immediately bends down to pick you up, endlessly apologetic. He ducks his head, eyes on you, though his body doesn’t turn from his father. “I’m sorry, angel. You alright?”

You reassure your boyfriend that you’re fine, more worried about the fact that you’re dressed in clothes from yesterday with horrendous bedhead meeting his parents for the first time. Richard eyes you in Steve’s arms. He has a look of disinterest on his face. “Son.”

“What, uh.” Steve clears his throat, curls a protective arm around your waist. He didn’t mean for this to happen. His parents were supposed to be gone until Tuesday. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“Right.”

Father and son stand in front of one another. Neither speaks. Steve feels like a little boy again, scrutinized underneath his father’s intense gaze. Never good enough. Never worthy of anything other than berating and lectures.

You wring your hands nervously, unsure what to do. The air is thick. Steve looks so much like his father, it’s almost uncanny. They have the same build, the same moles that dot along their handsome faces. Only his father is dressed in a suit, the lines in his face are hard, weathered. He’s who you picture Steve would’ve been, in a different universe where you were never his friend.

May Harrington gave her son all of her delicate features. The soft turn of his nose. The plush, pink lips. His doe eyes, his smile. The only feature that separates her from her son is her honey blonde hair. She’s beautiful, elegant and poised, and when she steps towards you, you can smell lavender perfume. “You must be Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.” You’re quick to meet her where she stands. You’re nervous, you have to discreetly wipe your hand on your pants before shaking hers. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. Your banana bread is lovely.”

The woman smiles, it’s so much like Steve’s that you want to cry. “Thank you, dear.”

“Of course, and I apologize for meeting like this. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Richard makes a mean, gruff sound. He shakes his head, steps next to his wife. He doesn’t like you, you can feel it by the way he blocks his wife’s view of you. “Oh, no. I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Dad–” Steve steps forward as well, blocking his father’s view of you. He’s angry, his shoulder blades close together. He doesn’t like how the man is treating you; you’re too good for such cruelty.

“What did I tell you about bringing your hookups to the house, son?” Richard sneers, turning his nose up at you. That’s all he sees you as. Just another one of Steve’s flings, one of the girls from his past.

“Y/N is not just some hookup,” Steve clenches his jaw, tries to steady his breathing. He doesn’t want to fight with his dad in front of you. Not when he was having such a good morning, spending his birthday with your hands wrapped around his neck and your giggles singing in his ears. “She’s my girlfriend, and I love her.”

Richard chuckles, he doesn’t believe his son. “Okay, you love her. I’m sure your mother and I will walk in on you with some new girl next week.”

“Dear,” May places a hand on her husband’s shoulder. She sees the way you shrink into yourself at the man’s words. The insecurity that he brings. She sees how her son’s eyes ignite with fury, she watches as he does whatever he can to put the flame out for her sake and your’s. “It’s Steve’s birthday today.”

“Is that why you insisted on coming home today?” Richard turns to her, she has his full attention now. His eyebrows are drawn together, annoyance paints his body. “You told me you had a board meeting tonight.”

“Why don’t we talk about this upstairs?” May suggests, relieved that she’s turned her husband’s anger onto herself rather than her son. Richard sighs, but he doesn’t argue as he marches up the stairs without so much as a second glance towards you. When he’s gone, May smiles at you sympathetically. “I apologize for my husband’s behavior. We had a long flight, I’m sure he’s simply jetlagged.”

“Yeah, that’s why he’s such an asshole.” Steve scoffs, tired of his mother’s excuses for her husband. He can be cruel to Steve, he doesn’t care. He’s been cruel to him his entire life. But if his father so much as breathes near you again, Steve will hurt him.

Your hand reaches for Steve’s, sensing what he’s thinking. You return May’s smile, you’re not at all angry with her. “It’s okay, really. I was an unexpected guest, and I should go.”

Steve pulls you into his chest. “What, no–”

“You may leave, if you’d like.” His mother gently interrupts him. “Though I must admit, I really do wish to know you better. If you’d allow me to, that is.”

“I’d love that more than anything.”

“Then I will plan a dinner for the next time my husband and I are in town.” May tells you, admiring your honesty. She can see why Steve has become so infatuated with you. There’s nothing hidden within you; you wear your heart on your sleeve, your sincerity a welcomed rarity. She turns to her son, rests her palm delicately against his face. “Happy birthday, my beautiful boy.”

Steve leans into her touch, weak for his mother as any son is. You turn away, it doesn’t feel right to watch this moment between them.

In the car Steve profusely apologizes for his father’s behavior. Over and over again, he laments how sorry he is and that you’re more than just some fling to him. “You’re everything to me, angel. I love you so, so much.”

“I know, honey.” You grab his hand that rests against the stick shift. His father’s words had hurt, but you knew that they weren’t true. Steve is your’s, he has been for longer than either of you realize. Nothing will ever undo the love he has for you, the foundation of trust it was built upon. “You’re everything to me, too.”

When Steve pulls into your driveway, you tell him to park and come inside. His birthday gift is in your room. You had planned to give it to him later tonight, but his parents’ unexpected arrival had soured things. “I know you have to go home, but…”

“I’ll never say no to you.” Steve’s already unbuckling his seatbelt to follow you inside. He greets your mother with a kiss to her cheek, ruffles Dustin’s hair as he sits at the dining table doing homework. His movements are easy, leisurely. You notice now how at home he is in yours, far from the boy who cowered before his father only twenty minutes ago. The realization is bittersweet. He deserves to feel at home in his own house, not just yours.

Inside your room Steve sits on your bed and holds his hand out, eager. “Okay, wow me, Henderson.”

“You really know how to talk to a woman.” You tease him, rustling through your drawer to find the gift you’ve hidden. Steve is nosy, he’s been trying to find his gift for at least two weeks now. When you’ve found it, you clutch the gift in your hand and hold it behind your back. “Alright, you know the drill by now. Close your eyes.”

Steve complies with a smirk, biting back suggestive comments. He loves this tradition with you, making the other close their eyes before their gift. Something light is placed in Steve’s hand. It’s circular, sturdy. He thinks he can smell leather.

“Okay, open.”

In his hand is a bracelet. It’s a simple strip of leather, nothing embellishes it besides a button to secure it. Though it’s plain, Steve can tell that it’s expensive. The leather is supple, its color is dark and polished. The silver button that clasps the two ends together is heavy.

He loves it, he does, but he can’t help feeling like that there must be something more to it.

As if reading his mind, you gently prompt Steve to turn it over in his hands. “Look what’s on the inside, honey.”

He does, and his heart stops.

The leather has been stamped. The word constants is spelled out across the length of the band. It’s a hidden message, only for Steve to know, and while he’s sure you have your own explanation for why you chose the word constants, he loves it already. “Oh.”

You sit next to him and laugh softly. “You’re my constant, Steve. Everything in my life has changed, or will change, but you… You’ve always been there, I know you’ll always be there. With me. My love, my lucky charm, my constant.”

Tears well in Steve’s eyes. He doesn’t bother wiping them away, too busy admiring the bracelet in his hand. He can’t believe you’re real, that you’ve thought of this for him. That you see a future with him… It’s everything he could’ve asked for. A security he’s always longed to have. His entire life he’s been told he’s too much, too overwhelming, and yet you want him to stay anyways.

“And you’re my constant?” He asks you, fingers grazing over the letters again.

You nudge his shoulder with yours. “Well, I’d like to think that I am.”

He laughs, wet and full of love, and he can’t take it anymore. Steve throws his arms over you and you collapse into your bed, laughing together as he presses his lips wherever they can reach.

“You are,” he says in between kisses. Your laughter lights him. “You’re my constant, too.”

–

The autumn leaves fall and the trees are barren as winter arrives.

You spend winter break trying to maintain your promise to Joyce. After finishing the hell that was applying to college, you have so much unexpected free time that at first you don't know what to do. But then her words echo in your mind, the promise to live the life that you deserve, so you start doing things for yourself.

Slowly you read through all the books in your room that you hadn't had time for before. You start running again in the mornings, the winter air crisp in your lungs. You and Dustin do homework together at the kitchen table, making sure neither of you get left behind. You try new recipes to bake, delivering the treats to the ones you love. It’s nice, rediscovering the pleasures you once had long before the Upside Down came into your life.

Christmas comes and you do your annual rounds, delivering everyone’s favorite treats on Christmas Eve. It’s during your run to the Sinclair home that Lucas asks you to come inside to talk.

“What’s up?” You ask him, unwrapping your scarf and warming your hands in your sleeves. Lucas gestures to his kitchen table, silently asking you to sit. When you do, he takes a deep breath and joins you.

Something’s bothering him. You can see it in the way he carries a weight on his shoulders. How they droop as he sits, exhausted. You reach across the table and grab his hand, offering whatever comfort you can give him. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”

“It’s…” Lucas purses his lips, his breath shakes. “It’s Max. I’m–I’m worried about her.”

He tells you everything. He tells you how distant she’s been, more than she’s ever been before. He tells you how she’s missed dates he’s planned for her, how she refuses to talk to him anymore. She hasn’t been to any of the party’s hangouts, Mike and Dustin haven’t seen her ever since winter break started.

Max has had bad days, weeks, even months since losing Billy. But she’s never had the bad days without at least one good day following. To break the monotonous cycle of self-loathing and grief and guilt. She would always come back, even if for a moment, alive and bright and reminiscent of the girl had been.

“I can feel her slipping away,” Lucas looks down at the table. He’s afraid that if he looks at you then he’ll start crying. He doesn’t want you to worry, he knows how much you already deal with and do for them, but he’s terrified. “I know… I know that you helped Will, after he was flayed. Do you think you could maybe talk to Max? Just… Remind her that we’re here for her? I can’t–I can’t lose her.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours, trying to stem the stream of tears he fought so hard to force down. Lucas loves Max with everything within him. Anyone can see that. You’d do anything to bring the girl back to him, to bring her back to all of you. “I’ll talk to her.”

I’ll keep an eye on her. Watch her when you can’t.

Lucas hears it. He exhales, nods his head.

You leave. Max was the next one on your list of deliveries anyways.

It’s nearing dusk by the time you get to the trailer park. You haven’t seen Max’s new home, she’s only recently moved. She had been too embarrassed to tell anyone that her mother lost their old house. The only reason you even know she moved in the first place is because Lucas and Dustin stalked her walking home.

A dog barks as you bike past. Snow has started to fall, tomorrow will be a white Christmas.

“Oh, hello, Y/N.” Susan Hargrove’s skin is pale, her eyes sunken in when she answers the door. Her voice is thin, her frame is strained. The death has been hard on her, too. Billy’s father leaving only made everything worse.

“Hi, Mrs. Hargrove.”

The woman winces. “Please, Mayfield will be fine.”

You immediately correct yourself, apologetic and ashamed, when Max’s voice calls from within the home. “Just let Y/N in, mom.”

Susan sighs, and you wish you could do more. Instead, all you can offer her is the container of coconut bites you’ve made for them. Max told you they remind her and her mother of California, and you always make sure to have some ready every week for them. Offer some semblance of joy in the gray of their lives.

Max sits at the kitchen table. Her head is down as she works on something. She has her walkman next to her. Susan leaves the two of you alone, excusing herself to go lay down after a long shift.

You sit next to the girl and take a deep breath. This won’t be easy. Max is prideful, stubbornly independent, and has never accepted sympathy from anyone. You’ve always admired her fiery personality, but the fire has dimmed and the smoke is beginning to choke her. Talking to her will be like pulling teeth out.

“Brought you your favorites.” You shake the container in your hands. It serves as a peace offering, almost a bribe to start the conversation.

“Thanks.” Max doesn’t look up.

You swallow, tuck your hair behind your ears. “Of course. I was doing my usual delivery rounds. I, uh. Stopped at the Sinclair’s.”

The pencil in Max’s hand freezes. Her knuckles tighten, though the shift is subtle. She’s always been too smart for her own good. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Erica likes my brownies. Mrs. Sinclair, too.”

“And Lucas?” She knows why you’re here.

“I made him chocolate chip cookies. You know how much he loves them.” Max doesn’t respond. Of course she knows how much Lucas enjoys chocolate chip cookies. She knows everything about him, but she doesn’t say anything and goes back to writing. Faintly you hear music coming from the walkman. You point at the device. “New song?”

“Kate Bush.”

“Oh.” This is going worse than you imagined. “Look, Max–”

She doesn’t waste any time. “I know Lucas sent you. I don’t care.”

“He’s just worried about you, we all are–”

“I’m fine.” The tip of the pencil snaps. “Shit.”

“Max.” You’re pleading with her to listen. Her skin is fluorescent now, paler than you’ve ever seen. The bags underneath her eyes are swollen, dark and ghostly. She’s lost weight. You can’t remember the last time you saw her eat. “Please.”

“What do you want me to do?” Though there’s anger in her voice, Max’s eyes plead with you, too. Her mask slips for just a moment, but you see it. Underneath her indifferent exterior, she’s just as terrified as everyone else is. She can feel herself fading, the guilt of Billy’s death slowly eats her alive. She doesn’t know what to do, though. How do you continue to live after death has infiltrated your home?

The chair beneath you scraps against the hardwood floor. You stand up, walk over to Max and kneel in front of her. You keep your movements slow, worried you’ll scare her away if you get too close too suddenly. “I think you should talk to someone, honey.”

Max turns away. She can’t. If she told anyone what goes on inside her head, they would never forgive her. You would never forgive her, and it would break her.

Your hand falls to Max’s knee. The warmth from your palm combats the ice in her veins. You’re looking at her as if she’s worth something. As if she didn’t wish for her brother’s death. As if she hadn’t sent a grieving father into a spiral, a desperate mother into a trailer park. But Max allows your touch, so you try to get through to her again.

“You know, I was actually talking to Ms. Kelly a few weeks ago. The school’s guidance counselor.” She had met with you to discuss your grades and college options. When she had seen how you picked your nails until they bled, she suggested seeing her every few weeks. Alleviate some of your never ending stress. You had denied, uncomfortable with the idea. But maybe she could help Max. “She seemed nice enough. I’m sure she would be open to talking with you.”

“I don’t want to see some shrink.”

“Hey, I want to work with kids your age someday. Don’t call future me a shrink.” You poke Max’s leg playfully, and the corners of her mouth twitch. She doesn’t want you to see that it’s working. “C’mon. Have at least one meeting with her. When winter break ends, all I ask is that you try. For me and Lucas. We’re your favorites, after all.”

“If I agree, will it get you to shut up?”

You’re fine with this. It isn’t ideal, you aren’t sure Max will even actually try to open up to Ms. Kelly, but it’s a start. For too long now you’ve stayed silent, allowing Max to grieve on her own. Grief is hard, it takes and it takes and it takes. Yet it’s been almost six months and you’re not sure how much left grief can take from Max. “I think I can be okay with that.”

You’ll take whatever you can get. You’re worried. You got too caught up in your own life, you had gotten lost in your own haze of grief and anxiety. Missing Jonathan, grappling with change and growing up as you applied to college. You weren’t there for Max like you should’ve been.

But you’ll fix this. You always fix things. It’s what you do. It’s what you have to do. It’s how you love; you take care of those around you.

And who are you if you can’t?

–

Jonathan calls you high for the first time in late January.

Though he doesn’t tell you that he’s high, you know. His words are slurred, slowed, incomprehensible. It’s late in California, even later in Indiana, and the stark feeling of guilt slices into your ribcage the same way the Demodog’s claw did. The feeling cuts deep into your skin, nicks your bone.

“Jonathan?” You hope your voice brings him back to you. You try to cut through the smoke that fills his mind, that leaves him stumbling over his words. “Bee, can you hear me?”

“‘M here.” Jonathan sniffs, smacks his lips, yawns. “Where’re you? Can’t find you, bug.”

You close your eyes. He’s looking for you, and you aren’t with him. “I’m in Hawkins.”

“Thas’ far.”

“Yeah,” you choke out a laugh. It constricts in your vocal chords, but you can’t let Jonathan know how much it hurts to hear him so disoriented. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. California sucks.” He hiccups, you’re surprised he’s managed to call you tonight. Even in his drugged up state, he still somehow remembered to call. “Don’t think Nance will like it.”

He’s referring to the spring break trip. Nancy told you about it earlier today, how she and Mike will spend the week in California to see Jonathan and El. She had been a bit hesitant to tell you, afraid you’d be upset for not being invited, but you reassured her that it was okay.

You’ve had a road trip planned with Jonathan ever since you were fifteen. The moment the two of you graduate, you’ll drive all across the country for one final adventure before college.

Nancy can have spring. Summer will be yours.

“She’ll love California because you’re there.” She talked about the trip nonstop today. Her glow had come back, momentarily, her eyes alight. She truly loves Jonathan, she misses him even more than you do.

“Only disappoint her.”

“What do you mean?” You’re not sure where this is coming from. You know Jonathan is high, that his thoughts may not be coherent, but he sounds distressed about Nancy. You thought things had been good between them. They were planning a future together.

“Is’ hard, with her.” Jonathan manages to get out, but his speech is becoming harder and harder to understand.

You frown. “What’s hard, bee?”

The line disconnects. Jonathan doesn’t bring the conversation up again, the next time you call. You don’t ask him what he meant. You don’t think you want to know. There had been something deeper behind his words.

Will calls you a few days later in tears. The kids are meaner in California than they are in Hawkins. They tease El, make her life hell, and he’s upset that he can’t do anything to stop it. He cries to you, his tears soak your face through the landline, and the guilt creeps back in.

It will never truly leave.

You do your best to console him, offer him advice, but that’s all you can do. All you have are your words. Will and El are hours away, hundreds of miles separate them from you. It's nauseating, feeling so useless. For as long as you’ve known Will, you’ve always been able to protect him. To help him, dry his eyes.

You’ve always been there for your boys, for Jonathan and Will. For El. But you can’t get to them, they’re too far away, and it kills you. You’re sixteen again, trapped in Jonathan’s car and frantically trying to keep yourself together as everything around you falls apart.

Steve becomes your lifeline.

He always answers when you call. Every time Jonathan, high and lonely, hangs up your conversations, you call Steve. He answers, he hears the exhaustion in your voice, and he always sneaks in through your window later that night. He knows it’s the only way you’re able to sleep these days.

He sings to you when you wake up from a nightmare. They’ve become about Max, losing her. She’s only met with Ms. Kelly a few times, but you can tell that she already wants to stop. That you’re pushing her too far, pushing her away from you and everyone else.

Steve takes you for drives when you get blisters from pacing your room, anxiously waiting for your college decision letters to come in. Soon your entire life will be decided for you by one single piece of paper.

Two weeks before spring break, Jonathan calls you. He’s sober.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve spoken to him sober. The thought alone depresses you, makes you yearn for childhood again.

“I think Nancy wants me to come to Hawkins,” he tells you. “Would you… would you like that?”

More than anything.

You press the phone against your ear and imagine that it’s Jonathan’s hand instead. Your skin hasn’t forgotten how his felt against it. “Of course I want you to come to Hawkins, bee.” But it can’t be that easy, you know nothing ever comes easily. “Can you afford it, though? I–I mean, God. I miss you, you know that, but I know it’s been hard for your family these last few years.”

Jonathan’s head falls back against the wall behind him. You always understand. He hates it, sometimes. “It’s worth looking into if it means I get to see you and Nance.”

There’s an air of authority in Jonathan’s voice, as if he truly believes what he’s saying, and it surprises you. He’s taking initiative after months of floating away. Hope sparks within you, the cold hand of dread lessens its grip around your neck.

“Well, I can’t argue with that logic.” You say. Jonathan laughs, you’ve missed the sound. It’s been so long since you last heard it.

Conversation drifts after that. You tell him about the latest Spider-Man arc you’re reading, he inserts his own opinions, and it’s lovely. You haven’t had Jonathan like this in months, all to yourself, his smile aligned with yours. Sober, steady.

The phone call with Jonathan reminds you of all the good that is still yet to come.

College decision letters arrive next week. Your best friend might be visiting for spring break. Your boyfriend has planned a picnic for your anniversary tomorrow. You have your first meeting with Ms. Kelly the following day. It was your idea, figuring it was only fair that you see her since Max has agreed to keep going.

And Joyce made you promise that you’d live your own life. You’re trying to get better, you really are.

It just takes time.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ the taglist is closed.

⌑ taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @thytorturedpoet @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking

@criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst @kitdjarin1 @onecojg @innazra @cultish-corner @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @moonpascal @newyorkangelbaby @chervbs @poppet05 @bookkeeperlove @bellenotthebeast @swiftieblyth @moon-flowerrs @estaticheart @dreamingofts18 @lanxsee @thecapricunt1616 @aheadfullofsteverogers

@angie2274 @xuimhao @shelby-ren @carinacassiopeiae @eddiemunson-86-baby @ribbetzetoad @cherrycherry19 @mamamakaylamorgan23 @slttygeto @alltoomay @hiraethavis @latenightreadingpdf @gayandfairycore @aliceespector @l0ca1ax010t1 @whosyourgnomie @luca-random-stuff @thaliagracesgf @ofallthechemicalboys @lucy-loaf @marrowfrog00 @isaidonyourknees @promnightbinbaby @prozacgooble @wen-oo @defnotbrooklyn @applepie972 @h4ewns @eugenique @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #nya #m's writing #im so scared for season 4 bro #also less steve centered chapter i apologize class

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coralinnii · 5 months ago

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Hello! If u dont remember me I'm the person that requested the villainess au Trey x reader from a long time ago, just wanna drop in and say I really look forward to your works and hope you have a great day/night/time! Sorry for bothering you if this message ends up being a bother

‧₊˚✧ Being Reincarnated into a New World as the Bad Guy‧₊˚✧

feat: Trey

genre: slow burn, coworkers-to-something more

note: no pronouns were used for reader, reader is implied to be old enough to work, mentions of poisoning and assassination attempts, reader is somewhat emotionally constipated.

extra note: While Trey is not quite in-character as I would like, he is supposed to be younger than his canon version, so I wanted him to be more unsure and inexperienced than his future self.

I did it, I finally got this done. Praise me (don't)

Being Reincarnated as the Bad Guy aka Villain/ess AU masterlist

You don’t get paid enough for this nonsense. No, you seriously don’t.

One minute you were finally getting off a particularly bad shift at work, only to be in this strange world you don’t recognize…as a low-ranking servant to the bloody royal family!

The rules, the standards, the pretentious nobles you have to smile in fear of having your neck sliced…where’s OSHA when you need them?

At least your coworkers were decent and you’re not in charge of anything too major like waiting on the Queen or her son, unlike that young aide-in-training you see running up and down the palace…poor Sir Clover.

Not your problem, though

…Until a couple of greedy noblemen forced a vial of poison into your hands, promising you a grand reward of money and status for your compliance. They wanted you to spike the drink of the crown prince’s closest aide-in-training so they could plant their own men by his side.

With your best service smile on, you handed back the vial back.

“No ❤️”

When they try to threaten you, you kindly remind them that if they plan to drag you in the mud, you’re not above pulling them along with you.

“If I’m going down, I’m dragging everyone with me.”

Once that was over, you wanted to cleanse yourself from this ugly conspiracy. You were way too busy worrying about your own neck, and you assumed that Sir Clover was cautious over his own safety that you, a mere worker bee, have nothing to contribute.

However, you do notice that the young green-haired man seems to prioritize others over himself, and the lights to his room are often still lit until late into the night. An honest young man burdened with responsibilities; his defenses may not always be on guard…

Ugghh, what a pain in the-

“Um, excuse me?” You looked to the tall nobleman trying to capture your attention.

“Yes, Sir Clover?”

“Were you originally scheduled to work today?”

You held your urge to click your tongue. Of course, Trey would be aware of at least who was scheduled to wait on Prince Riddle and him. What an annoyingly conscientious man.

“My colleague was feeling unwell so I offered to take her place for today. I apologize for not informing you beforehand.” You bowed politely which made the bespectacled man a little flustered.

“No, I’m grateful she could take a rest. Thank you for taking up the role but please let us know next time so we can offer some medical help if needed.”

That wouldn’t be necessary, you thought as you nodded regardless. Your coworker wasn’t really sick in any way but she was more than happy to switch schedules with you.

Many of the servants are under the impression that you harbored a crush on the admittedly cute aide-in-training since you were caught glancing at his direction more often than usual. It wouldn't be surprising if your “crush” in question is also aware of the gossip, which leads to his tenseness around you. Be it kindness or hesitance, Sir Clover chose not to reprimand you for doing as you please.

“What a pain, but I guess it works in my favor anyway.”

A knock rang through the room and with Riddle’s permission, an anxious maid came in with a tray carrying a tea set, confusing everyone in the room.

It’s not time for afternoon tea yet.

“What is the meaning of this?” For someone so young, Riddle’s sharp tone ran a deadly chill down everyone’s back. “Afternoon tea is not for another 13 minutes.”

The maid stuttered in fear, the tea set clattering slightly in her hands. “T-The servants thought that His Highness and Sir C-Clover have been working tirelessly today and perhaps some tea could help.”

You had too much of a survival instinct to dare look at the prince but the silence and building heat in the air was evidence enough that the thought was not appreciative.

Trey was quick to clear the tension with an awkward cough and a smile. “Thank you, I could use some.”

At his words, you dutifully proceeded to reach for the set when the maid hastily pulled it away from you.

Strange

“I-I can do it. Please excuse me” Without sparing a glance towards you, the maid quickly set the tray down on a nearby table and worked to pour a cup.

You’ve seen this maid only a few times. She was a new addition to the roster, too new to approach the royal family but here she was. She hadn't even learned how to properly hold the pot which was noticeable to everyone but was ignored (at the behest of Trey’s wordless plea) due to assumed inexperience.

“She’s so nervous but here she is, so adamant about serving some damn tea…”

A suffocating feeling rising in your throat, you watched with trepidation as the maid walked towards Trey while holding the teacup almost too preciously.

“Eek!” The maid shrieked when your hand squeezed her wrist in an unforgiving grip. She turned to question you but your glare kept her silent.

Trey looked at you with confusion, but your attention kept on the shaking maid and the teacup. With your other hand, you reach for your silver brooch given as part of your uniform to symbolize you as a person of the royal family.

The confusion in Trey’s eyes turned to disbelief when he watched your silver brooch become a damning color as you dipped the silver into the tea.

The broken maid would have crumbled completely onto the pristine floor if not for your hand still on her wrist. While she seemed to be a bumbling mess begging for her life, you couldn’t risk her making a run for it.

You don’t get paid enough for this nonsense.

”So, it was a plan to replace me…permanently.”

You stood silently in front of the solemn man in his office. After arresting her, it was easy to extract information from the maid and prince Riddle is gathering evidence for their act of treason, including your own interrogation.

“You are the trusted aide-to-be of the prince that cannot be bribed. You’re considered an obstacle.” You bowed your head. “I apologize for not speaking out sooner but if it were just my words without evidence, I could have my tongue removed for accusing nobility.”

If it was just you, then you wouldn’t be as confident. But to think that those corrupted nobles managed to convince someone else to do their dirty work. They were desperate and now that there was an attempt, the higher authorities have to take action.

“I shouldn’t feel bad for that maid…why should I for the choice she made…” you could still feel the sensation of that woman’s shaking body in the hand that held her. You don’t like it.

“Ha, you really don’t sugarcoat your words.” Trey’s voice pulled you back as he tried to laugh but his young body felt too heavy to put his whole heart into it.

But it’s finally over. The poisoning failed and those stupid noble scums were on Prince Riddle’s hit-list. That feeling of guilt that ate at your heart could finally rest in peace…right?

Even when he was the victim of all this, Trey was still sitting in his office in charge of investigating his own assassination attempt, on top of his usual duties in assisting the Royal family.

“Thank you for your time,” he even dares to smile kindly at you with dark circles under his warm eyes. “If you could, please call over the head staff to plan on interrogating the rest of the servants.”

“No.”

“N-No?”

“I won’t be doing that. I could ask the head staff to leave his schedule open if needed or if he could handle it with the guards since that’s his f*cking job,” You stared right into Trey’s eyes which widened in surprise. “For now, I humbly suggest Sir Clover to take a rest in his room or to work on something other than your assassination case.”

You didn’t wait for your stunned employer to reply as you bowed politely once more. “If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave.”

You moved away, making your way to the door before pausing. You glanced back at the young man in such a large office and your consciousness felt heavy. Your body was physically no older than Trey or Riddle but the weight on their shoulders was immeasurable, too much for either of them to handle on their own.

“Sir Clover,” you refused to look him in the eyes, “if you ever need anything…I’m willing to assist however I can.”

Immediately regretting your embarrassing words, you quickly added “but during work hours only!” before hastily leaving the office.

A shame really, since you missed the way Trey let out a genuine laugh after so long.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #villainess au #trey clover #twst trey x reader

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daemonmage · 9 months ago

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A Stupid Batfam AU

Jason’s and Bruce’s rocky relationship is actually a pr move to make sure the rest of the batfam doesn’t get attacked by reporters and gcpd.

Essentially Red Hood, while liked by the Crime Alley citizens and other citizens as well, has a pretty bad reputation with a lot of the rest of the city. The GCPD hate him for his overt violence and the head incident. The Media hates him cause he’s what they all feared Batman would become and are constantly creating news stories on him. A lot of the other citizens are just scared of him cause sometimes his temper gets out of control. It’s not the best reputation.

Bruce and Jason have long since talked and settled their differences. Well, it’s more of a “I don’t approve of your methods but I will acknowledge you as a person who wants to help, but I will still dislike the guns. Also I missed you” from Bruce and “I’m not happy with a lot of your decisions but I also understand why you came to those decisions. I’m still mad but I now know that you missed me and I missed you too” from Jason. They’re better than they were originally and honestly that’s all they could hope for. Jason visits the manor more and is having fun being brothers to Dick and Tim.

Here’s the thing though… his reputation as Red Hood may have accidentally spread to the other Bats. A few team ups here and there (and the red bat on his chest) have made everyone assume that Batman is now working with Red Hood, a known crime lord. The media and GCPD were on them like flies on shit. Jim tries to calm down the gcpd with mixed results, but he can’t stop the media from blowing this out of proportion. It’s like the news channels from Dark Knight Returns, but worse.

Jason, who just got his family back, is fucking pissed. Jason is also dramatic as hell. Bruce was willing to just deal with this, but Tim is too new at this to be caught in the crossfire. Bruce was just gonna bench him out of fear until things calm down (he’s dealt with this before) but Jason brings up his plan to Bruce. Bruce isn’t as dramatic as Jason, however he is still absolutely dramatic. He agrees. So begins an epic fight between two ideals that ends two vigilantes at each other’s throats constantly.

Red Hood and Batman fight any time they are together, Red Hood is arrested by Batman on multiple occasions, and Red Hood always escapes leaving terrifying threats spray painted where the bat can see. (Jason and Bruce give each others shit for the pot shots they take and Bruce compliments Jason’s form when he gets a good hit in, Bruce gives Jason a heads up to the easier ways to get out of a police car and Jason ignores him going for the most dramatic ways, Bruce complains that the code Jason uses for his threats are obvious and he can just ask Alfred himself for cookies, why does Bruce have to be the middle man.)

The super hero community doesn’t really know this (cause they can be pretty bad actors at times, says Bruce) tis can cause problems. Superman and Green Arrow capturing Red Hood. Batman had to pull the “he’s Gotham’s problem give him to me,” which led to a hour of arguing to get Jason back. Tim’s friend have Red Hood on their hit list for what Hood did to Robin (Tim is over it but he does use this as a way to get back at his brother when he pisses him off) and Red Hood has to be on the Villain List to sell the act, so every hero ever knows the Red Hood is a villain. This leads to chaos.

There are still rough moments where Bruce and Jason still fight, but it’s better. Jason gets to hang out and play games with Tim. He plans overly dramatic fights with Dick (with full plot cause these two are so extra.) He helps Alfred in the kitchen again talking about books they’ve both read. He and Bruce talk again, they talk about their fears and what they’ve missed. It’s better, and that’s all that really matters.

#batman #batfam #red hood #jason todd #bruce wayne #batfam au #stupid au #dick grayson #nightwing #robin #tim drake #batfamily #this is so dumb #but its been in my head so now it here #I already have stuff for Tim and Dick specifically #which includes #teen titans

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artyandink · 4 months ago

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amoralism | ten

SUMMARY: You and Dean Winchester are the top agents from Major Crimes. You’re also assigned as partners on the same case- a crime syndicate is running loose and buying out most of downtown New York. He hates you cause you hate him. You hate him cause you think he got in his position with his daddy’s influence. But this case is personal to one of you more than the other- and you may be getting too personal for comfort.

TW: Agent Dean Winchester (yes, he’s a warning in itself), mention of murder, murder, Knights of Hell but they’re just murderous humans, description of injuries, use of firearms, a mole in the FBI, Azazel, Asmodeus, crime syndicates, (slightly), pressure, it’s a Kevin and Jo episode guys

Song Inspo: Bones by Imagine Dragons

SERIES MASTERLIST

bilingualism

THREE WEEKS AGO:

The dimly lit operations room was filled with the hum of computer monitors and the soft clatter of keyboard strokes. Kevin and Jo, both were hunched over a desk, their eyes glued to the footage playing on the screen in front of them. The grainy video showed the supposed death of Cain, a case that had puzzled them for days.

Kevin paused the video, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes. "Something about this just doesn't add up," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. "We've watched this footage a dozen times, and it still feels off."

Jo nodded, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Yeah, I know what you mean. There’s something... staged about it. But I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Kevin replayed the segment where Cain was supposedly killed, focusing on the details. "Look at the way he falls. It's too clean. No struggle, no desperation. It's almost like he knew what was coming."

Jo leaned closer, scrutinizing the screen. "You’re right. And check out the angle of the camera. It’s positioned perfectly to capture the whole scene. Almost like it was set up deliberately."

Kevin's fingers flew across the keyboard, enhancing the footage and zooming in on Cain's face. "See that? He’s looking right at the camera. That’s not a look of fear; it’s... calculated."

Jo's eyes widened. "He’s playing to the audience. He wanted us to see this."

Kevin nodded, a sense of excitement building in his chest. "Exactly. But why? What’s his endgame?"

Jo frowned, leaning back in her chair. "Maybe he wanted us to think he was dead. Take the heat off him, so he could operate from the shadows."

Kevin paused the footage at the moment of Cain's supposed death. "That would explain a lot. But it also means we’ve been chasing a ghost. Cain's out there somewhere, and we’ve got no idea what he’s planning."

Jo ran a hand through her hair, her mind racing. "We need to look at this from a different angle. If Cain wanted us to think he was dead, he must have a reason. Something big."

Kevin started pulling up files on Cain, scanning through his known associates and recent activities. "Cain's always been a step ahead. If he's faked his death, he’s probably planning something major. We need to figure out what that is before it’s too late."

Jo nodded, determination hardening her features. "Right. But first, we need to confirm our theory. Let’s see if there’s any evidence that supports the idea that Cain is still alive."

Kevin brought up a series of reports, focusing on unusual activities that could be linked to Cain. "Look at this. A string of unexplained deaths in the last month. All of them have Cain’s signature—decapitation with a single clean cut."

Jo’s eyes widened. "That’s his calling card. He’s definitely still active. We need to alert the higher-ups."

Kevin hesitated, a frown crossing his face. "Wait. If we go straight to them without solid proof, they might not take us seriously. We need more than just a hunch."

Jo nodded, her jaw set. "You’re right. We need to gather enough evidence to make our case airtight. Let’s start with the footage. There’s got to be something we missed."

Kevin replayed the footage, slowing it down frame by frame. "Look here," he said, pointing to a shadow in the background. "There’s someone else in the room. They’re just out of sight, but you can see their reflection in the window."

Jo squinted at the screen, her heart racing. "That’s it. Cain had an accomplice. Someone who helped him stage his death."

Kevin enhanced the image, revealing the faint outline of a figure. "If we can identify this person, we might be able to track them down and get to Cain."

TWO WEEKS AGO:

The sun was just beginning to set as Kevin and Jo arrived at the scene of the latest decapitation. The crime scene was an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, eerily quiet and shrouded in shadows. They parked their car a safe distance away and approached on foot, their flashlights cutting through the growing darkness.

Kevin’s heart raced as they reached the entrance. He glanced at Jo, who nodded in silent agreement. They needed to be cautious; if Cain was on a revenge mission, there was no telling what they might find.

They slipped inside the warehouse, the scent of decay and stale air assaulting their senses. The beam of Kevin’s flashlight fell on the chalk outline of a body and a pool of dried blood. He knelt down, inspecting the scene with a critical eye.

“Looks like the usual M.O.,” Kevin murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Clean cut, no signs of a struggle.”

Jo scanned the area, her flashlight revealing the remnants of a violent encounter. “Yeah, but something feels different. This doesn’t seem random. Cain’s targeting someone specific.”

Kevin stood up, dusting off his hands. “Let’s look around. Maybe we can find something that ties this to Cain.”

They moved methodically through the warehouse, searching for clues. It wasn’t long before Jo’s flashlight caught something glinting in the shadows. She moved closer, crouching down to inspect it.

“Kevin, over here,” she called softly.

Kevin joined her, and together they examined the object. It was a medallion, intricately carved with symbols that Kevin recognized immediately.

“This is a syndicate insignia,” he said, his eyes widening. “Whoever this was, they were part of the syndicate.”

Jo’s eyes narrowed in thought. “So Cain’s not just killing randomly. He’s targeting members of the syndicate. But why?”

Kevin turned the medallion over in his hands, his mind racing. “Revenge. Cain’s on a revenge mission.”

Jo frowned. “Revenge for what?”

Kevin’s face grew grim as he pieced it together. “For the death of his wife, Collette, and his brother Abel.”

Jo’s eyes widened in realization. “Of course. Cain’s been harboring a grudge for centuries. The syndicate must have been involved in their deaths.”

Kevin nodded. “It makes sense. Cain’s always been driven by a sense of justice, twisted as it may be. If the syndicate had a hand in Collette’s and Abel’s deaths, he’d stop at nothing to make them pay.”

Jo stood up, her expression determined. “We need to find out more about this victim. If we can identify them, we might be able to connect the dots and figure out who Cain’s next target will be.”

Kevin agreed, pocketing the medallion. They continued their search, hoping to uncover more clues that would shed light on the identity of the latest victim. As they moved deeper into the warehouse, Kevin’s flashlight caught a glimpse of a piece of paper pinned to the wall.

“Jo, over here,” he called, moving towards the paper.

Jo joined him, and they examined the paper together. It was a list of names, each one crossed out except for the last two. Kevin recognized a few of the names immediately—prominent members of the syndicate who had been killed in recent weeks.

“This is a hit list,” Jo said, her voice barely above a whisper. “These are Cain’s targets.”

Kevin nodded, his heart pounding. “And it looks like he’s almost done. We need to warn the remaining targets before it’s too late.”

Jo took out her phone, quickly dialing the number of their superior. “We need to get this information to Sam and the others. They need to know what we’ve found.”

Kevin scanned the list, noting the names and locations of the remaining targets. He quickly pulled out his phone, dialling Sam.

He answered on the second ring. ‘Hey, Kevin. What’s up?’

Kevin took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Sam, we’ve got a situation. It’s about Cain."

There was a pause on the other end before Sam’s voice came through, cautious and curious. ‘Cain? I thought he was dead.’

"Yeah, that’s what we all thought," Kevin replied, glancing at Jo for support. "But we’ve got evidence that he’s still alive. And it’s worse than we expected—he’s on a revenge mission."

‘Revenge?’ Sam’s tone shifted, growing more serious. ‘For what?’

Kevin explained quickly, summarizing the events of the past few hours. "We’ve been investigating a series of decapitations, and we found out that all the victims were part of the syndicate. Cain’s been targeting them because he believes they were involved in the deaths of his wife, Collette, and his brother, Abel."

There was another pause as Sam processed the information. ‘That explains a lot. But if Cain’s alive and out for revenge, that means we’re dealing with a Knight of Hell who’s hell-bent on destruction.’

"Exactly," Kevin said. "We’ve already secured the remaining targets on his hit list, but we need to find Cain and stop him before he kills anyone else."

Jo stepped closer to Kevin, speaking up. "Sam, we’ve got a lead on his location. An abandoned farmhouse on the outskirts of town. We’re gearing up to head there now."

Sam’s voice was firm, filled with determination. ‘I’m on my way. Don’t do anything until I get there. We need to handle this carefully.’

ONE WEEK AGO:

The evening sky was a wash of fading orange and deepening purple, casting long shadows that seemed to pulse with the tension of the impending confrontation. Sam led the charge, his expression grim and focused.

And hoping his hair wouldn’t fall in his face.

The intel Kevin and Jo had uncovered suggested that this dilapidated farmhouse was Cain’s hideout. After weeks of relentless investigation and countless dead ends, they were finally closing in on the man responsible for a series of brutal murders, each victim a former member of a notorious criminal syndicate. Cain’s revenge was nearly complete, and they knew they were running out of time.

Sam motioned for silence as they approached the front door, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of movement. Kevin and Jo flanked him, their weapons drawn and ready. The tension was palpable, each agent acutely aware of the stakes.

Sam took a deep breath, then kicked the door open, the sound echoing through the empty farmhouse. They moved in swiftly, clearing rooms with practiced efficiency. The air was thick with dust and the lingering scent of decay. As they reached the living room, they found Cain seated calmly in an old armchair, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“Looks like you found me,” Cain said, his voice low and steady. “But you’re too late.”

Sam stepped forward, his gun trained on Cain. “Where are the others?”

Cain shook his head, his smile widening. “They’re gone. All of them. My revenge is complete.”

Kevin felt a chill run down his spine. They had been too late. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Jo’s eyes were locked onto Cain, her expression a mix of anger and frustration.

“What do you mean, ‘they’re gone’?” Jo demanded, her voice tight with barely restrained fury.

Cain leaned back in his chair, his eyes cold and calculating. “I’ve taken care of everyone responsible for Collette’s death and my brother Abel’s betrayal. Every single one of them.”

Sam tightened his grip on his weapon. “This ends now, Cain. You’re coming with us.”

Cain’s smile faded, replaced by a look of somber resolve. “You think I’m the biggest threat you’re facing? You’re wrong. There’s someone within your own ranks, someone who’s been working against you all along.”

Kevin and Jo exchanged a confused glance. Sam’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. “What are you talking about?”

“There’s a mole in your organization,” Cain said, his voice carrying a weight of certainty. “Someone who’s been feeding information to the syndicate, undermining your every move.”

Jo’s eyes widened in shock. “A mole? Who?”

Cain shrugged, his expression inscrutable. “I don’t know their identity. But I do know they’re close. Closer than you think.”

Kevin felt a knot of dread tighten in his stomach. A mole within the FBI could explain the many setbacks they had faced during the investigation. But who could it be?

Sam took a step closer to Cain, his voice a low growl. “Why should we believe you?”

Cain met Sam’s gaze, unflinching. “Because I have no reason to lie. My revenge is complete. I have nothing left to lose.”

The silence that followed was heavy with tension. Sam exchanged a look with Kevin and Jo, then holstered his weapon. “We’re taking you in, Cain. You’ll have plenty of time to tell us everything you know.”

Cain didn’t resist as Sam and Jo cuffed him, his expression one of resignation. Kevin’s mind was racing, trying to process the implications of what Cain had revealed. If there truly was a mole within the FBI, they needed to find them before more lives were put at risk.

Back at the FBI headquarters, the atmosphere was charged with a mixture of frustration and determination. Cain was secured in an interrogation room, under constant watch. Sam, Kevin, and Jo convened in a conference room, the gravity of their situation weighing heavily on them.

Sam paced the length of the room, his mind clearly racing. “If Cain’s telling the truth, we have a serious problem. A mole within our ranks could explain why this investigation has been so difficult.”

Kevin nodded, his fingers tapping nervously on the table. “We need to re-examine everyone. Look at their access, their movements, any anomalies in their behavior.”

Jo leaned forward, her eyes sharp with focus. “We’ve already ruled out the usual suspects. We need to think outside the box. Consider people we haven’t scrutinized as closely.”

Sam stopped pacing and turned to face them. “We’ll need to do this quietly. If the mole realizes we’re onto them, they could cause even more damage. Let’s start with access logs and communication records. Anyone who’s had unusual access to sensitive information.”

Kevin pulled out his laptop, quickly accessing the FBI’s internal database. Jo began sifting through recent case files, looking for any discrepancies or unusual patterns.

FOUR DAYS AGO:

Kevin and Jo sat across from each other in the dimly lit interrogation room, the sterile walls echoing with their frustration. The clock on the wall ticked mercilessly, reminding them of how little time they had left to uncover the mole within the FBI.

Kevin sighed, rubbing his eyes. “We’ve gone through the files a hundred times, Jo. There has to be something we’re missing.”

Jo leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling as if the answer might be written there. “I know, Kevin. But everyone we’ve investigated so far checks out. There’s no indication of anyone working against us.”

Kevin flipped through a thick stack of personnel files, each one meticulously marked with notes and red flags. “Let’s go over the interviews again. Maybe we missed a detail.”

Jo pulled out a notebook, the pages filled with hastily scribbled observations. “We’ve already ruled out Sam, Benny, Cas, Meg, and Ruby. They’ve all got alibis and their stories check out.”

Kevin nodded, his mind racing. “But what if the mole is someone we haven’t even considered? Someone under the radar?”

Jo tapped her pen against the table, deep in thought. “Like who? We’ve gone through everyone in our immediate circle.”

Kevin stood up, pacing the room. “Maybe it’s someone who’s not directly involved with us but has access to sensitive information. A support staff member, a janitor, someone who blends in.”

Jo’s eyes widened with realization. “You might be onto something. We need to broaden our scope. Look at everyone who’s had access to classified information, even if they’re not directly involved in our operations.”

Kevin nodded, feeling a spark of hope. “Let’s start with the cleaning crew. They’re here late at night when no one else is around. It’s possible someone could have overheard something or found a way to access our files.”

Jo jotted down a list of names. “Alright, let’s split up and start interviewing them. We need to be thorough.”

They moved with renewed determination, ready to uncover the truth.

THREE DAYS AGO:

The break room was quiet, the usual hum of chatter replaced by the soft buzz of the vending machine. Kevin and Jo sat at a small table, reviewing the cleaning crew’s schedules and backgrounds.

Kevin sipped his coffee, his eyes scanning the list. “So far, everyone we’ve talked to seems clean. No suspicious behavior, no access to restricted areas. Cleaning crew was a bust.”

Jo nodded, tapping her fingers on the table. “But we need to keep digging. There has to be a connection we’re not seeing.”

Kevin set down his coffee, leaning forward. “Let’s think about motive. Why would someone want to betray us? Money? Blackmail? Ideological reasons?”

Jo frowned, her brow furrowing. “It could be any of those. Or something we haven’t even considered. We need to think outside the box.”

Kevin’s eyes lit up with an idea. “What if it’s not about the usual reasons? What if it’s personal? Someone with a grudge against one of us?”

Jo looked thoughtful. “It’s possible. But who would have a personal vendetta against us?”

Kevin pulled out a piece of paper, jotting down names and potential motives. “Let’s make a list of anyone who’s had conflicts with our team in the past. Even minor disagreements could be a clue.”

Jo grabbed a pen, joining him in the brainstorming session. “Alright, let’s start with recent cases. Anyone we’ve crossed paths with who might hold a grudge.”

They worked in silence, their minds racing as they compiled the list. It was a long shot, but it was the best lead they had.

TWO DAYS AGO:

The FBI archives were a labyrinth of files and documents, stretching back decades. Kevin and Jo had spent hours sifting through the records, their eyes tired and their bodies aching from the constant strain.

Kevin pulled out another box of files, setting it on the table with a heavy thud. “There has to be something in here. Some connection we’ve overlooked.”

Jo flipped through a stack of papers, her fingers smudged with ink. “We’ve reviewed all the recent cases. Maybe we need to look further back. See if there’s a pattern.”

Kevin nodded, opening the box and pulling out a file. “Let’s start with cases that involved multiple agents. Larger operations where more people were involved.”

They worked in silence, the only sounds the rustling of papers and the occasional murmur of realization. Hours passed as they delved deeper into the archives, their frustration mounting with each dead end.

Jo suddenly looked up, her eyes wide. “Kevin, look at this.”

Kevin leaned over, peering at the file in her hands. It was an old case, one that had involved a large-scale operation against a powerful criminal syndicate. Several agents had been involved, including some who were still with the Bureau.

“This operation was a mess,” Jo said, pointing to the notes in the margin. “Several agents were compromised, and there were allegations of a mole even back then.”

Kevin’s mind raced. “But they never found the mole. What if it’s the same person, still operating within the Bureau?”

Jo nodded, her excitement growing. “It’s possible. We need to cross-reference these agents with the ones currently on our list.”

They worked quickly, their energy renewed by the potential breakthrough. If they could find a connection, they might finally be able to unmask the mole.

ONE DAY AGO:

The surveillance room was filled with monitors, each displaying different angles of the FBI headquarters. Kevin and Jo watched the screens intently, their eyes scanning for any sign of suspicious activity.

Kevin pointed to one of the screens. “There. That’s Agent Harris. He’s been acting strange lately, always staying late and avoiding eye contact.”

Jo nodded, making a note. “And there’s Agent Parker. She’s been spending a lot of time in the restricted areas, even when she’s not on duty.”

They continued to watch, their suspicions growing with each observation. They had compiled a list of agents who had been involved in the old operation and were now focusing their surveillance on them.

Kevin glanced at Jo, his expression serious. “We need to be careful. If the mole realizes we’re onto them, they might make a move.”

Jo nodded, her eyes never leaving the screens. “We’ll keep watching. Sooner or later, they’ll slip up.”

Hours passed, the tension in the room growing with each passing minute. They monitored every movement, every interaction, hoping for a clue that would lead them to the mole.

Suddenly, Jo’s eyes widened. “Kevin, look at this.”

Kevin leaned forward, his heart pounding. One of the agents on their list was meeting with a known associate of the syndicate— Azazel, no less, their conversation hushed and secretive.

“No way.” She whispered, grabbing her phone and rushing to make a call while Kevin stared wide eyed at the screen.

“That’s it,” Kevin whispered. “We’ve got our mole.”

NOW:

You felt numb. You felt… you didn’t know how to feel. In fact, your feet were barely carrying you towards the interrogation room, where you met Sam. He gave you a small nod, reassuring in hopes to calm the rising of bile, venom and blind fury that rose in your gut, threatening to boil over, but you shoved it down for the sake of it.

“He’s in there.” Sam nodded through the door, but stopped you before you could go in full guns blazing, pulling you in for a brief hug, his chin on your head. “Keep your cool, ok?”

“I will.” You assured quietly, and made your way in, your blood turning to ice.

There he was, at the interrogation table, cuffed to the desk. Smirk playing at his pouty lips, sandy hair slightly tousled from not having come quietly, red flannel and knowing look on his face. Green eyes following your every move, every slope of your body as you walked, tongue now tracing his upper teeth.

Dean Winchester. Dean was the mole in the FBI.

“Took you long enough, sweetheart.” He chuckled in a gravelly voice, which you ignored, taking the case file from Kevin with a small nod that said ‘well done’ to him and Jo. They’d been working the case while you were out playing a part in some badly written romance movie.

You cleared your throat, looking him in the eye. “So. It’s you. Why didn’t I see what you were doing?”

“I don’t think you were ever that perceptive, eh?” He grinned at you, clasping his hands together. “Ain’t no game that’s worth it if you ain’t the winner, am I right? But I played you good.”

“You sure did.” You replied, being cold about it the best you could. Your arms folded, jaw set and staring him dead in the eye. “But why did you do it?”

He laughed, throwing his head back before he looked back to you with a smirk. He cracked his Cheshire grin and gave you his best cocky-ass smile, one that made him look like the Devil. But there was only one thing worse than the Devil and that was the Devil in lion's clothing. “Because it’s fun.”

“You had sex with me because it was fun?” You frowned, folding your arms. “You wanted to get me this big win, is that what you wanted? Is this your idea of a big win?”

Dean smirked, leaning forward. “It’s my big win, darlin’. I said I’d get you a win, never said who’s.” Then he chuckled. “My patience’s worn thin. Adiós, sweet thing.”

His cuffs dropped from his hands, a Bobby pin clattering to the floor as the officers yelled out in surprise. Before they could react, they were knocked out with a clean few punches, and Dean had tackled you to the floor, the impact of your head hitting stone making your vision go blurry and the corners of it black.

You felt his lips on yours, further kissing what felt like the life out of you before he pulled back, hearing his footsteps disappear into the hallway along with hells and grunts that followed.

Your vision turning black.

TAGLIST:

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alwaysonthemend · 7 months ago

Text

Author’s Note: Hello my friends. I’ve been having the worst writer's block of my life and I am so so sorry that it’s been so long. This fic has been in my drafts for forever so I decided to finish it up since my brain is all out of new ideas. That being said, I’ve always planned on this being a two-part story so I thought I would leave you all with part 1 for now while I try to get my shit together lol. As always, I hope you enjoy. And if you see any typos… no you didn’t. Also don’t worry I promise that part 2 will have hella smut ;)

Content Warnings: Angst / talk of sex (non graphic - happened in the past) / sadness / feelings of not being good enough / low self esteem / unrequited love (for now) / miscommunication

Word Count: 8k

My Taglist: Here

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

Maybe it's just the excitement of the last show. Maybe it’s nerves or just the tension and energy oozing from everyone as they all prepared for showtime. Maybe it's the fear. Maybe it's the joy of celebration, or maybe it’s the dread of things going wrong. And maybe, if you’re really honest with yourself, it’s the goodbye that stands menacingly on the horizon – like a sentry waiting to capture your heart in his iron first. Maybe it’s none of those things, or maybe it’s a combination of all of them. But it’s worse tonight – that need that you have for him. The one that seems like it’s become a constant storm cloud that hovers oppressively over your heart, no matter how hard you try to push it down. It’s still there – lingering and festering like a wound. You push the feeling away for what feels like the thousandth time. Tonight isn’t the night.

Show nights are hectic, especially a night as important as this one; Dreams in Gold is drawing towards its inevitable ending, and everyone wants these last few shows to finish on a high note – preferably with as few hiccups as possible. There’s only a handful more after tonight – with just a small break for the boys in between, before the last leg kicks off. And your job is simple: make sure the boys look good while doing what they do best.

Josh’s makeup is usually first, as he prefers to be ready to go a lot earlier than the rest of the band. A fact which, as he’s stated numerous times, is due in part to his nerves and anxiety before he takes the stage. His jumpsuits may be his armor, but his makeup is his war paint – equally as important (if not moreso) than his beautiful outfits. He’s jittery as he sits in his chair, leg bouncing and fingers drumming endlessly on his knee.

“Josh,” you mutter as you swipe some gold glitter across his eyelids, “you’ve got to stop moving.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles, voice soft as he tries to rest it for the night. “Just nervous.”

“I know.” You tell him, giving his knee an affectionate squeeze. “But you all are going to do great. You always do.” You pull out a tube of mascara and delicately swipe it through his lashes to complete his look. “What is it you always say? ‘Fuck fear’?”

Josh gives you an airy chuckle and a lopsided grin.

“Something like that.”

“Well, try and follow some of your own advice, Oh Wise One.”

He just rolls his eyes playful at you, but the tension eases from his shoulders a tiny bit. Small victories.

There’s comfortable silence for a while as you methodically glue a few rhinestones to his cheek bones.

“And when are you going to follow my advice?”

You quirk your brow at him quizzically, eyes staying focused on his rhinestones as you attempt to make them as symmetrical as possible.

“When are you going to say ‘fuck fear’?” He straightens his posture slightly as you pull away from him, brows pinching together. “The phrase seems…” he waves his hand vaguely towards you. “...particularly apt for your current situation.”

You turn your back to him to place the rhinestone case on the counter. You know exactly what he’s getting at but you’re in no mood to discuss such matters with him. He caught onto you a long time ago – his remarkable ability to pick up on subtle nuances and feelings from everyone around him becoming the bane of your existence for the past few months.

“Sooner or later, you’ll have to admit the truth to him. Once you admit it to yourself, of course.”

“I’m not admitting anything to anyone, Joshua.” You still haven’t turned back to look at him, instead busying yourself with pulling out the items you need for Sam next. “I wish you would just let this go. It’s just a stupid. It’ll go away.”

You both know that you’re lying.

“I highly doubt that, love.” Josh says sweetly, rising from his chair to come and stand next to you. He places his hand on your shoulder and the coldness of his fingers seeps into your skin at the contact – yet the warmth of the gesture isn’t lost on you.

“I know you.” He pauses, grinning a bit. “And trust me when I say I know him… given the whole twin thing, and all that. This isn’t just a passing feeling.”

“Maybe for me it isn’t.” You say, a slight bit of resentment bleeding out in your tone as you pull open a makeup drawer with more force than necessary. “But he’s just so…” You trail off, looking for the right word.

“Aloof?” Josh supplies knowingly, hand dropping from your shoulder to rest at his side.

You nod once at him, eyes dropping to stare at the bottles of foundation that line the counter in front of you.

“That’s his own fear getting in the way. You know how he is: him and emotions don’t get along too well. They haven’t since we were kids. He prefers to lock them all up and throw away the key instead of allowing himself to be vulnerable.”

“He doesn’t owe me anything – especially not vulnerability. We got drunk and fucked each other in a bar bathroom… hardly romantic or vulnerable to begin with.” You bite your lip, the unwanted and all-encompassing hurt from that night rearing its ugly head yet again. “And we both agreed that it was a mistake, and then we moved on. There isn’t anything else to it.”

“Sunflower,” Josh says, the nickname falling from his lips in almost a whisper, “you and I – and him for that matter, know that neither of you have moved on.”

You don’t say anything. You don’t know what there is to say. You want to believe him, you really do. You want to allow that shriveled up little seedling of hope in your chest to bloom. But you know better. You learned better.

“You don’t believe me.” It’s not a question. He knows you don’t.

“I wish I could. But he won’t give me anything to go on. One minute he’s there next to me and he’s flirting and being so sweet… and the next it’s like he’s a million miles away – barely even looking at me.” You sigh, and the weight of it all seems to press down on your shoulders as you slump forward, allowing yourself a moment of weakness with the kind man who stands in front of you. “I just wish he would talk to me. Why won’t he just talk to me?”

You hate the tears that burn behind your eyes and you hate the ache that opens up like a chasm in your chest. You wish you could hate him, too. Lord knows you’ve tried.

“Jake isn’t the best at words. But he’ll try. For you, I know he will.” He offers you a kind smile that soothes your aching heart a little bit. “Go to him. I promise he’ll talk if you’d just give him the opportunity to. He’s too afraid to approach you first.”

You glance at your watch.

“It’s getting close. I still need to do Sammy and Danny.”

Josh hears the unspoken dismissal and he inclines his head to you.

“Of course. I’ll leave you alone now. You know I’m only pestering you because I love you and want you to be happy.”

“I love you too, Josh.” You giggle. “Why couldn’t I have just fallen for you instead of your brother? You’re so much easier to talk to.” You lament, giving him a self-deprecating smile.

Josh’s eyes glitter with amusement and he grins at you, the apples of his cheeks growing pink with laughter.

“Oh I wish, sweet Sunflower.” He bows his head, allowing the curls on his forehead to fall slightly. “But alas, my heart belongs to another, anyway. A losing battle it would have been.” He pitches his tone upwards, summoning his most theatrical voice. “My heart burns with undying love for someone else.” He says, raising his arms with an obnoxiously over-the-top flourish.“My soul has been intertwined with another. The call of the universe summoned us tog-”

“Okay, yeah I’m sure.” You interrupt him, shaking your head in laughter at his dramatics. “Give your undying love a kiss for me, would you? In case I leave before you all?”

“Trying to steal him from me?” Josh asks, placing a hand dramatically over his heart, eyes widening in mock surprise for a moment before smiling at you warmly.“Of course I will. But you better not leave before saying goodbye. And that’s an order.”

You give him a salute.

“Yes sir, your majesty.”

And with that, he’s gone – curly head disappearing out the corridor and leaving you with a head swimming with too many thoughts to process.

Your relationship with Jake has been special from the start. From the first moment that you’d met him, you’d been drawn to him – like a moth to a flame. He made you feel alive and excited and terrified all at once. Trading flirtations with him became second nature – you poking fun at his pension for dressing in all black (pointedly referring to him as emo despite how much he denies it), and he always made sure to laugh whenever your naturally clumsy nature caused you to trip or drop something. But there’s never any malice in your little exchanges – your words instead dripping with thinly veiled joy (and perhaps a bit of nerves) as the two of you interact with each other.

Even your nickname comes from Jake. That first day that you had met him, you’d been wearing a dress with sunflowers on it. He’d complemented it – telling you the flowers brought out the color of your eyes. And so maybe you’d worn a pair of sunflower earrings the next time you saw him (though you’d never admit to him that you did it on purpose), and Jake had been quick to point them out before jokingly referring to you as Sunflower. And the name had stuck – a fact which you were infinitely glad of.

Your flirting with Jake continued to escalate as the two of you got to know each other better and it didn’t take long for your crush on him to develop into something more. Jake had carved a space for himself within your heart and no one else could fill it like he could. And before long, those flirty conversations between the two of you snowballed into a drunken, passionate-filled night in a bar bathroom – fueled on by lowered inhibitions and post-show adrenaline. It was fast and hard, but you’d enjoyed yourself thoroughly and hope had unfurled itself in your chest like a flower in the sun. Though it quickly withered and died once the afterglow had died off and Jake had told you plainly that it was an alcohol-fueled mistake.

He’d said sorry, and he looked like he really was. And you’d assured him that there were no hard feelings and that yes, it had in fact been a mistake. Though it was a mistake for different reasons than what he had thought. For him – at least you assumed, the mistake lies in that he allowed himself to become carried away, drunk and tense from a show. For you, though, the mistake is that you fell for him… and in the fact that you now knew what it was like to have him – only for him to be promptly ripped away from you again. Which only made his absence all the worse.

And although you’d both promised to act like it never happened, things changed. He grew distant. Never cold, but the familiarity and ease that had once existed between the two of you had been shattered beyond repair. No more flirty conversations or silly exchanges between the two of you. Instead, awkwardness has taken up residence. Every now and then, that old joviality would slip back into your interactions with him but he quickly catches himself and reels it back in. It’s confusing and hurtful, and you often lose sleep over his constant swinging back and forth. Regret lays heavy in your mind when you think back to that night at the bar, wishing that you’d put a stop to things before it got so far.

You’re snapped from your melodramatic thoughts by Sam boisterously crashing into the room, a goofy smile plastered over his face.

“I’m ready to be bedazzled!” He exclaimed, planting his lanky form into the chair and you couldn’t help the smile that overtook you, and the sadness of the moment prior is shoved from your mind as you fall into easy conversation with him.

Danny follows soon after Sam, and in the bustle of getting everything ready, you almost forget about everything. Though the thoughts still remain, brewing in the back of your mind like a thunderstorm just waiting to be unleashed.

The show is spectacular, as is to be expected from your boys. As nervous as they might be beforehand, they never fail to deliver a jaw-dropping performance. You’d watched from the sides, soaking up the energy of the last show and doing your best to not think about the months that you were about to spend without getting to see them at all. Though you all live in Nashville, there’s no reason for you to see any of them outside of work. And even though they’re technically your bosses, they have all quickly wormed their way into your heart, earning themselves the title of ‘friend’ above all else.

The night is turning out to be magical and you’re struck with a sudden surge of courage as you stand there watching them perform– or more specifically, watching him perform.

He’s truly in his element up there on stage, shredding on his guitar like there’s no tomorrow. You always enjoy getting to see this side of Jake, given how reserved he tends to be in his normal day-to-day life. In the time that you’ve known him, you’ve discovered that Jake is stoic and reserved around those he doesn’t know – content to sit in the corner and watch; but when he’s around people that he knows and trusts, his humor and kindness shine brighter than anyone else’s you’d ever met. You’d seen before how the fans often referred to Josh and Jake as the sun and moon, affectionately pointing out their subtle differences in personality despite being twins. But you had learned that Jake is by no means any less affectionate and joyful as Josh is, he’s just content to be a little quieter about it – making those times that he is loud all the more special.

Once the show was over, the boys and some of the other crew were planning on going out to celebrate – apparently having booked a private room at a restaurant downtown in which everyone could make a little merry before officially saying goodbye. You hadn’t wanted to go, but Josh and Danny had given you their best puppy dog eyes, and you’d begrudgingly agreed to accompany them.

Which is how you find yourself sitting at a table in the corner, brooding over your earlier conversation with Josh. With the tour being on break for now, you won’t be seeing any of them until it starts up again. And although you’re confident that Josh, Sam, and Danny will probably stay in contact with you here and there, (and maybe ask to get lunch every now and again) you know for a fact that the same can’t be said for Jake. If the past few months were anything to go by, you know that it’s going to be radio silence as soon as tonight is over. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he goes around the room, making conversation with seemingly everyone but you. It hurts, and maybe it’s the liquor that’s coursing through your veins or the months of hurt finally spilling over, but you decide that enough is enough. You’re tired of living on what ifs and maybes. You hear Josh’s voice in your head, clear as a bell: Fuck fear.

With that thought in mind, you down the rest of your drink and stand up, determined to finally speak with Jake about what’s going on between the two of you. He’s across the room, talking with Danny’s drum kit tech. Jake looks effortlessly gorgeous, just as he always does.

As you begin your trek across the room the nerves and adrenaline kick in. You wipe your sweaty palms on your pants and roll your shoulders back.

He’s right there. All you have to do is ask him if you can speak with him for a moment. You know he’ll agree to – despite everything, Jake is still one of the kindest people you’ve ever met. He’d never intentionally upset you… or anyone for that matter.

Josh had told you that Jake feels the same. Josh knows Jake better than anyone… and you trust Josh. And you trust Jake not to intentionally hurt you. He’s just afraid – just like you are.

His back is to you. Easiest thing in the world to just… touch his arm to get his attention.

Just as you reach your hand out to touch his shoulder, a girl who you’ve never seen before slides up next to him, comfortably easing her arm around his waist. Jake throws his arm over her shoulders and draws her in close and you watch in detached horror as he turns his head to face her and presses a kiss to her cheek.

You draw back as if burned, spinning on your heel with the plan of getting the fuck out of here as fast as you can, hurt and embarrassment washing over you in waves – mingling with each other and making the perfect concoction for a panic attack.

Frantically, your eyes scan the crowd in search of Josh: your one comfort throughout all of this, but you don’t see him. God, where the fuck is he? Of all the times-

“Sunflower?”

It’s Jake’s voice, and you turn to see him, Danny’s tech, and the girl looking at you in concern.

“Are you alright?” Jake asks, dropping his arm from around the girl to turn around more fully.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Your voice comes out breathless and a little frantic, doing a poor job of hiding your impending meltdown.

“Are you sure? You look a little-” Jake starts.

“I was actually just about to leave. Sorry.” You interrupt him, unwilling to spend a moment longer watching someone else have what you want so badly.

“Already?” Danny’s tech asks, and if you were in a better state of mind you’d probably feel guilty for not being able to remember his name. Instead, your mind is focused on the mounting panic rising in your chest, threatening to overtake you as you desperately try to keep your cool.

“I’m a little tired.” You supply vaguely, eyes scanning the crowd again in search of Josh. Still no sign of him.

“Well, I was hoping to introduce you to Lindsey.” Jake says, causing your eyes to cut back to him. He’s smiling, but you can’t decipher the odd look in his eyes.

“Hi.” She says, giving you a kind smile. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

She extends her hand for you to shake and your eyes briefly snap to Jake’s. He looks on edge, like he’s waiting for something. Your approval? You’re not sure.

You shake the girl’s hand.

“Hi. I’m Y/n.”

Lindsey smiles. She’s pretty. Very pretty. She’s not wearing a lot of makeup, just a little bit of mascara and some blush. Her clothes aren’t overly flashy and her eyes seem soft and kind. She’s exactly the type of girl you can imagine Jake going for and the thought makes you want to throw up. But instead, like the adult you are, you plaster a smile on your face to match hers.

“Jake’s told me a little bit about you. He says you’re a great makeup artist.” You know she’s saying that to be nice and to find some ground where you’re comfortable – obviously sensing that you’re on edge and trying to help in any way she can. But you just can’t do this. Not tonight. Not now.

“I’m alright, I guess.” You shrug, and you can feel how forced your smile is but you persist. “It’s really nice to meet you but I really need to get going. Jake?” You turn to him, doing your best to ignore the tears that are beginning to brim in your eyes. “Have you seen Josh? I told him I wouldn’t leave without telling him and his partner goodbye.”

He shakes his head no, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that can only be described as defensive and uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I haven’t. I’ll keep an eye out for him, though.”

“That’s alright. I’ll just shoot him a text later. Congrats on a successful night,” you say, nodding to the tech, Danny, and then to Jake before turning to Lindsey, “and it was really nice to meet you. I’m sorry I’ve gotta run.”

“That’s okay. I hope you have a good night.” She offers, eyes still watching you in concern. Somehow, her kindness makes this whole thing worse.

You turn away from the group and, as if in a dream, you make your way to the exit of the bar.

With no Josh in sight, you pull your phone from your pocket and call an Uber to take you back to the hotel where you’ll pack up your bags for the last time. This time tomorrow, you’ll be in your own bed away from all the madness. You wish the thought gave you more comfort.

//////

Three weeks pass agonizingly slowly. After being on tour for so long, the sudden change in tempo to your normally fast paced life leaves you floating through your days as if in a dream. Where once it seemed as though you barely had time to even sit down and think, now you have too much time to do exactly that. There’s only so many good shows that you missed and there’s only so many useless outings to be had before you find yourself going stir crazy. Distraction-less, your thoughts swirl hopelessly around Jake and your bitter, self-hating disappointment.

You think fondly about the first time you met. You think of your flirting and of the soft moments the two of you shared before it all went to hell. You even think of that damn bar bathroom; you think of the passion and the hope that had bloomed in you that night, and of the crushing disappointment and hurt that soon followed. And inevitably, your thoughts always seem to circle back to that last night, when you finally mustered up the courage to say something, only for the universe to seemingly throw it back in your face with a laugh and a middle finger. And the very worst part of it all had been Lindsey’s obvious kindness and concern towards you, despite having only just met. You hate that you can understand why he chose her.

Those thoughts feel particularly loud tonight as you stare down at an invitation to a group dinner from Josh. He, along with Sam and Danny, had texted you here and there – little things about what was going on in their lives since you last had seen them. But this was the first time that you had been asked to go out with them.

You’re torn. Torn between the desire to see all of your friends again and wanting to avoid having to see Jake (and even worse, Lindsey) if you didn’t absolutely have to. But, deciding to put your big girl pants on, you accepted, texting Josh a simple Sure :)

He responded almost immediately, eagerly letting you know how excited he was to see you.

And here you find yourself, nervously adjusting your top for the millionth time that night as you drive to the bar that Josh had told you about. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but to think about Jake as you had gotten dressed. You feel silly for still allowing yourself to be so hung up on him. You shake your head at yourself, almost in the hopes that the thoughts will slip from your mind at the action. Despite everything, you’re determined to have a good time tonight.

You’ve never been to this bar before, nestled away just a few blocks from Broadway on the East side of Nashville. It’s a nice place, but not so fancy that it comes across as too uptight or uncomfortable. Walking through the doors, you see that there’s a bar off to the right, with a few larger tables scattered across the floor to your left, and some pool tables and a dart board tucked away in the back. It seems laid back and comfortable – just the kind of place the boys like to frequent. Sam and Danny are already at a table, excitedly beckoning you over.

“Sunflower!” Danny calls, standing from his seat and opening his arms wide.

You jog over to him, grinning from ear to ear as you allow him to engulf you in a hug.

“I missed you.” He tells you sweetly, squeezing you a little tighter.

“I missed you too, Dan. Especially your hugs.”

“Quit hogging her!” Sam interrupts, gripping your wrists in his long fingers and pulling you from Danny and into himself.

Giggling, you hug him too.

“And I missed you.” You pull away from him, casting your eyes between the two of them. “I missed all of you guys. Speaking of… where’s tweedle dee and tweedle dum?”

The three of you sit, Danny pulling your chair out for you like the gentleman that he is.

“Josh is running late, as usual.” Sam supplies with an eye roll, “And I think Jake and Lindsey should be here soon. He said they were on their way a while ago.”

It feels like someone just dumped a bucket of ice water on you but you keep your expression smooth. Of course he would be bringing Lindsey tonight… Why wouldn’t he?

Unfortunately for you, they do arrive soon, and seeing Jake again feels like a punch in the gut. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans coupled with a white button up, and his signature necklace glitters against his chest. He looks stunning, and Lindsey’s beauty only stands out more in the beautiful sundress that she has on.

“There you two are!” Sammy says loudly, and Jake inclines his head.

“Ladies,” he nods at you and Sam, “and Danny, good to see you.”

Sam scowls as Jake and Danny share a laugh.

“Y/n! It’s good to see you again.” Lindsey says with a smile, taking a seat in the chair directly to your right. You push back the annoyance, reminding yourself that it’s not her fault that Jake doesn’t feel the same towards you.

The table descends into easy conversation, though you find yourself having a difficult time keeping up. You smile and nod at what you hope is the correct times, but your thoughts are a thousand miles away. All you can think about is that night in that damn bar bathroom, and how good it had felt in the moment. You think about that night more often than you’d ever care to admit, but the memory is soured anyway by what followed. You can still see Jake’s face, passive and expressionless, as he shattered your heart in two.

And of course, you think of the last show, when you’d allowed Josh to convince you that Jake felt the same. God, you’ll never forget seeing him lean over to kiss Lindsey’s cheek, her arm wrapped around his waist just like yours had been that night at the bar. You wish, suddenly, that you’d ordered alcohol instead of water.

“Right, Sunflower?”

The question snaps you from your racing thoughts and you look up to see everyone at the table looking at you. Your cheeks flush as you wrack your brains to try and recall what they’d been talking about but you come up empty. You open your mouth to spew some bullshit excuse when you hear the door to the restaurant bust open obnoxiously.

“The party has arrived!” Josh bellows, drawing the attention of just about everyone in the building, and – thankfully, the attention of everyone at your table. You slink down further in your seat, suddenly feeling like you’ve run a marathon.

Josh and his partner take a seat to your left, and their presence instantly soothes you in a way you can hardly explain.

“What the hell are you two always doing that makes you so late to everything?” Sam asks him, taking a sip of his drink and quirking his brow.

“You don’t want to know, brother mine.” Josh says with a lewd grin, causing the entire table to erupt in groans of disgust. You laugh softly and Josh’s partner gives you a wink.

Conversations pick up again amongst everyone, though you mostly only speak to Josh’s partner, the two of you scooting backwards in your chairs to speak around Josh – who’s leaning forward as he tells an animated story about something or other, hands flapping about wildly.

“Does he ever run out of things to say?” You stage whisper at his partner, who guffaws loudly and assures you that no, Josh does not, in fact, ever run out of things to say.

“You should see him when we go to the store!” He tells you, eyes twinkling with affection, “He talks to just about everyone in the fucking Publix. I have to drag him out – for my sake and for theirs.”

“What does he even talk to them about?” You ask through a laugh.

“I don’t know. He talks a lot but says very little, most of the time.”

At that, Josh leans back into his chair and turns his head back and forth between the two of you, eyes narrowed and a mocking frown on his face.

“Are you two talking about me?”

“Never!” You tell him seriously, giving your best poker face.

“Absolutely not. I love you just the way you are, babe.” His partner assures him, and you know that he’s not kidding in the slightest. They’re annoyingly perfect for each other.

Josh looks on in suspicion as you and his partner lock eyes, both fighting to hold back your laughter and Josh raises an eyebrow at the two of you. You just shrug your shoulders and smile, while his partner smiles into his drink – the both of you completely unable to meet Josh’s eyes for fear of breaking out into giggles.

“Sure. Whatever, Very convincing.” Josh mutters, shaking his head and fighting a smile of his own. “Anyways, tell us what you’ve been up to, Sunflower.”

You feel warmth overtake your cheeks as everyone’s eyes turn to you and you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole as Jake’s gaze finally lands on you as well. For the life of you, you can’t get a read on him – a fact that hurts you beyond measure.

“Oh, not much, to be completely honest.” You tell them, shrugging your shoulders. “Not much to do around here when I’m not dealing with you guys’ craziness.”

“Nothing?” Danny asks in disbelief, “No family or friends you’ve been hanging out with?”

“You guys are the only friends I have here in Nash.” You glance down at your lap. “Just been me, myself, and I.”

Josh, in typical Josh fashion, changes the subject upon noticing your discomfort – and you promptly excuse yourself to the ladies’ room. Rising from your seat, you scamper quickly away from the table.

You splash cold water on your face and smooth down a few fly-away hairs. Gazing in the mirror, you smile at yourself. Even you can see that it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

You jump as the door to the bathroom opens, eyes widening as you see Lindsey entering. You fight back a frown. She’s the last person you want to see.

“Hey.” She says simply, coming to stand beside you in front of the mirror,

“Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You tell her, and wince at the harshness of your tone. “Thank you for asking though.” You add, softer this time.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” She says kindly, giving you a soft smile in the mirror. “I know we don’t really know each other, but… I’m here, if there’s something you want to talk about. I’m good at listening.”

You sigh, heart warming just a little at her obvious kindness and sincerity. You don’t know whether it’s better or worse that she’s a good person – it would be easier to dislike her if she wasn’t. But it’s also easier to accept Jake choosing her over you knowing that she’s a genuine person. Deciding to go out on a limb, you choose your next words carefully – keeping them truthful, but vague.

“Just guy trouble. It’s stupid, really. I don’t know why I’m letting it affect me like this.”

“A breakup?”

“Not necessarily…” You scratch the back of your neck, nerves beginning to show themselves again. “We, um- we slept together. Once. And I really liked him. But he said it was a mistake and we haven’t really spoken since.”

“Did you,” she speaks slowly – delicately, even. “Did you know him well? Before?”

“Yeah. He was always so sweet. Flirty, but not obnoxiously so. I really thought something was there. Something… real.”

“Mmm.” She hummed, looking in the mirror to smooth her own hair down. “And you haven’t spoken to him since?”

“Not in a way that matters. Not about what happened.”

“Maybe you should try.” She says, tilting her head at you. “You never know unless you try.”

You duck your head, fighting the tears that begin to burn behind your eyes.

“He’s with someone else now. And they seem to be happy. I don’t want to cause trouble where it’s not necessary. I just need to…” you trail off for a moment, staring at your reflection hopelessly. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

“You love him, then?”

Her question makes you freeze for a moment. Do you love him? You hadn’t really wanted to put a direct name to how you feel about Jake. But standing here, crying over him to the girl he chose over you, you figure you’ve hit rock bottom already anyway.

“Yeah, I do.” Your admission comes out quiet – broken in such a way that you almost don’t even recognize it.

“I’m sorry.” She says, her gaze dropping down onto the counter, staring at the little puddles of water. “I wish I could say something to help, but I know there’s nothing to say. It just fucking sucks, feeling like that.”

You nod, sniffling a little and wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

“And you know what the worst part of it all is?”

She just shakes her head, allowing you to continue.

“The girl he’s with now… I get it. I totally get why he chose her.” You let out a watery laugh and you see Lindsey’s eyes fill with her own tears as she watches you fall apart. “I would have chosen her, too.”

You blink and suddenly you’re being hugged. You’re stunned for just a moment before you hesitantly wrap your arms around her loosely.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” She says, pulling away from you and placing her hands on your shoulders, willing you to meet her gaze. “You’ll find the one. I know you will.”

“Thank you.” You sniffle again and laugh quietly, “God, this is so embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” She says kindly, dropping her hands and smiling. “Sometimes you just need another girl to listen. I love the guys – and they’re more sensitive and understanding than most, but they don’t get stuff like this like we do.”

You nod at her, taking a deep breath to gather yourself.

“Ready to go back out?”

“Yeah.” You say, and you follow behind her as the two of you make your way back out to the table.

The rest of the night passes by in a blur. After your return from the bathroom, you don’t allow your thoughts to prevent you from enjoying time with your friends. They really are all you have and you’ve missed them terribly. You catch eyes with Lindsey every now and again, and she always gives you an encouraging smile as she watches you engage, and little sparks of affection and thankfulness for her warm your chest. It really isn’t her fault.

After you’ve all eaten, and the alcohol begins to take more affect, Sam suddenly rises from his seat and slams his palms against the table (effectively causing all the plates to rattle obnoxiously)

“Daniel!” He says, pointing a finger at poor Danny who looks back at him with wide eyes. “I challenge you to a game of pool right this instant. I’m tired of sitting.”

Danny rolls his eyes playfully and stands, rubbing his palms on his jeans.

“Don’t start something you know you can’t win.” Danny tells him with a grin.

“40 bucks says I beat you.”

The rest of you watch on in amusement as the two bicker all the way over to the pool tables.

“Jake?” Josh asks, turning to his twin, “Wanna play?”

“Fuck ya.” Jake responds, also rising from his place. “Ready to beat your ass.”

“In your dreams, Jakey.”

“Don’t call me that.” Jake says petulantly, brushing past Josh with a deliberate nudge against his shoulder.

You, Josh’s partner, and Lindsey follow the boys over to the tables, laughing at their antics. Everyone is sporting a buzz now and you’re well on your way to getting your own little buzz. You figure you deserve it.

You watch on in amusement as the boys allow themselves to let loose – you love watching them like this. They’re like little kids, giggling and messing with each other as they play pool.

“I haven’t seen them all together like this.” Lindsey tells you from her seat next to you. “They’re like…”

“Children?” You supply, giggling softly. “They’re always like this. Even during a tour.”

The both of you laugh loudly as Josh sinks a ball, exclaiming loudly in triumph before Jake interrupts his celebration to let him know that he hit one of Jake’s into the pocket and not his own. Josh lets out a particularly petulant “Fuck!” and Jake tosses his head back and laughs.

You watch him, completely unable to pull your eyes away from him. He looks… transcendent like that, joy and laughter making his eyes crinkle at the corners in the way that always makes your heart melt. A pang shoots through your chest as memories of when he used to laugh with you like that enter your thoughts unbidden. You shake your head at yourself, tearing your gaze away from him to look at Lindsey – only to find her already looking at you.

You can’t quite read her expression – but there’s puzzlement in her eyes. You look away, unwilling to answer (or even acknowledge) her silent question.

Before long, the boys are far too drunk to be allowed out in public any longer, and Josh’s partner begins making the rounds to let them know that it’s time to go. He’s met with grumblings of disappointment but the boys don’t protest as you all begin to make your way outside.

“Well, Sunflower,” Danny says, smiling widely with flushed cheeks as he looks at you, “I guess we won’t see you again until tour starts again.” He extends his strong arms, waiting to give you a goodbye hug. You fall into him, letting your eyes fall closed as he squeezes you.

“You give the best hugs, Danny.”

“So you keep telling me.” He grins, pulling away as Josh’s partner ducks in to hug you as well.

“Me next!” Sam exclaims loudly, yanking you from his grip to pull you into his lanky arms.

“Bye, Sammy.” You giggle. “Till next time.”

You pull away to see Josh waiting patiently for his turn.

“See you soon, Sunflower.” He says, pulling you flush against him. Just as you go to pull away, he pulls you in tighter and leans in close.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. You blink away the tears that want to fall at his words.

Lastly, Jake stands, hands awkwardly in his pockets as he waits. You’re not sure what to do until he opens his arms for you. Hesitantly, you wrap your arms around his waist, breathing in his scent as it envelopes you.

He leans in close – so close that his lips are almost touching your ear.

“See you later, Sunflower.”

“Bye, Jake.” You say quietly.

He squeezes you tighter, letting the embrace last for just a moment too long.

Pulling away, you catch Lindsey’s eyes, and for the first time tonight, she doesn’t return the smile that you give her.

You trudge your way back to your car, suddenly wishing that you hadn’t gone tonight. And even more, you wish – desperately, that you didn’t have to see him again at all.

Climbing into your car, you allow yourself to put on your sad song playlist and wallow in your misery the entire way home, before collapsing heavily into your bed – the call of sleep pulling you under.

///////

Jake K 1:02 AM

I think we should talk

The text is the very last thing you want to wake up to – especially with the pounding in your head and the feeling of nausea that threatens to overtake you. You hadn’t had much to drink the night before but you have a feeling that it’s not the alcohol making you feel this way. You stare at it for a long while, thoughts racing through your fuzzy brain as you try and figure out how to respond.

You knew you shouldn’t have been honest with Lindsey – no matter how kind she is. Of course she would have caught on after seeing your inability to fix your face when you watch Jake and of course she would tell him what had happened in the bathroom.

And now he’s probably upset with you. Maybe he’s angry that you’ve kept your feelings from him and fucked him in a bar bathroom like it didn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s going to fire you. Maybe Lindsey wants him to fire you. Your mind races with every worst possible scenario as you shakily type out your response.

You 10:17 AM

Is everything okay?

The speed with which he answers tells you everything that you need to know.

Jake K 10:19 AM

Can you call?

You 10:19 AM

Yes. Whenever you get a chance.

Not a second later, his name lights up across your screen with an incoming call. Heart pounding, you can only stare at it. You haven’t had time to think. To plan out how you’re supposed to just act like everything is okay. With a heavy sigh, you accept that it’s too late for that and you swipe to accept the call.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Y/n.”

Your actual name… hardly a good sign but you will the nerves and fear from your voice the best you can.

“Is everything okay?”

A heavy, pregnant pause. Then finally,

“Lindsey and I talked last night. She um. She knows. About- About us.”

You close your eyes tight, heart hammering.

“Fuck.” The word escapes you with a sigh, tears already beginning to burn in the back of your throat. “I swear I didn’t tell her, Jake. I swear it. I just-”

“I know.” He interrupts. “She explained. I um.”

You can hear him swallow and you can picture what he must look like on the other end – eyebrows pinched, maybe playing with the chain of his necklace like he does when he’s nervous or stressed. You shake your head as if it’ll clear the image from your mind.

“Jake, I’m sorry.”

He sighs – heavy and defeated.

“Don’t apologize. I- I’m sorry that I hurt you like that. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t.”

Silence again, both of you just listening to the others breathing.

“I think it might be best if- if maybe you all find someone else for makeup.”

“No.” He starts, the word louder than any of the others that he’s spoken before. “You can't just walk away. You can't leave. ”

“But I think it would be best if I did.”

This time, you can practically hear him trying to come up with something to say in the silence. But you know there isn’t really much else to say.

“You’re our friend.” He finally says, voice just barely above a whisper.

That makes you pause as you think of the others – of Josh and his soft, reassuring smiles. Of his partner and the inside jokes the two of you share. Of Sammy and his ridiculous jokes and of Danny’s hugs. You think of all the other tech people – the ones who had taken you in and treated you like family from the very start. All the people that you’re willingly walking away from... and most of them will never even know why.

It kills you. The ache in your chest is a real, breathing thing as the reality of it all sets in.

“I’m sorry.”

“Y/n, don’t-”

You end the call.

End of Part I

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

@jakeyt

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#dee's writing #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka

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inukag-archive · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! I love all that you do! I am looking for modern aus, I like ones where the whole gang is there and they are roommates or go to college together or work together or something. Spicy would be preferable too haha! But really, any spicy modern au!

The gang's all here, Nonnie!

(May)Be Mine? by @fandomobsessions016 (E)

To win a bet, Kagome and Inuyasha team up to convince their closest friends that they are not at all interested in each other. Not... at... all. Totally platonic. One hundred percent.

Lover by @Lavendertwilight89 (E)

Inuyasha decided to study aboard in England. What he hadn't anticipated was falling in love.

A Not So Far Quest by @clearwillow /BrigidTheFae (E)

Modern college AU. InuKag and MirSan pairings. There's something to be said for anonymity in MMORPGs. A story about a game that's less about the game and more its players.

Nuts About You by @shikonstarStar (E)

Inuyasha has always hated drawing attention to his doglike attributes. But if the girl of his dreams is in danger? He’ll get on all fours and bark if he has to.

Atelier by CloudsCloudlet (E)

Kagome doesn’t wait tables because she cares about it, or because she feels some kind of calling to serve food. She does it because she’s an artist who hasn’t quite made enough of a name for herself to quit her day job, and because working in one of San Francisco’s finest restaurants means she makes enough money to survive.

When the famous Chef Inuyasha Taisho takes over in the kitchen he's grating and rude and Kagome instantly hates him. Until he starts showing up to her gallery showings, and to drinks with her coworkers. She soon realizes she may be powerless to resist him.

Switch by @moomischief (E)

"There are three main pillars for a healthy S&M relationship: Trust, Respect and Control." "Aren't they different depending on your position?" "Nope, two heads of the same coin. Makes it easy when you're a switch, no new rules."

Black Diamond by @fawn-eyed-girl (E)

Inuyasha wants to go skiing. Kagome wants to stay at the lodge, read her book, and drink hot chocolate. When Inuyasha finally convinces her to hit the slopes, things don't go as planned, and Inuyasha and Kagome deal with the implications...together.

The One With All the Kissing by @jeremymarsh (M)

“The half-demon appeared in the hallway, looking furtively left and right as if he expected someone to materialize at any moment and to be caught red-handed. Once he made sure he was alone, he closed the door behind him and stared at the one with the number 20 on it. In a second, he crossed the hall, knocked and entered, all the while maintaining a furtive stance and an agitated expression on his face. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the sound of the lock turning, and only then did he turn towards the apartment’s sole occupant. “Did anyone see you?” she asked, startled, as if afraid of the answer. “Clear,” was his reply, moving so close that there was hardly any space between them. “Perfect,” Kagome continued, replacing her concerned frown with a mischievous smile. At that point, oblivious to any fear she had had up to that instant, she concentrated only on him. She rested a hand on his chest and lifted her face to meet his golden eyes. “Perfect,” Inuyasha echoed before he captured her lips in a kiss, leading her towards the bedroom.”

Or: Inuyasha and Kagome get in trouble as they try to hide their relationship from their friends.

Neighbor Crush (The Thread) by @shinidamachu (G)

Modern AU, anyone? This was heavily inspired by a twitter thread I read a while ago, about a guy who developed a major crush on his neighbor’s voice and, with his roommate’s help, managed to ask him out.

Dorm Life by @dawnrider (M)

[Complete]AU- Kagome comes home to find her room... occupied. She goes to her best friend's room to sleep and finds more than she bargained for on his futon. What will our funny little college kiddies do?

FML by L.M. Avalon (T)

"Today, I was paired with the girl I've been crushing on all semester for our big final project. While waiting for me at my dorm, she hung out with my three roommates. Now all of them are in love with her, too. FML" AU.

In With the New by Michi4 (T)

AU: In a house that rents rooms out to college students, Sango is the only female tenant now that Kikyo's moved out. Now a new girl's moving into Kikyo's room: COMPLETE!...HumorDramaRomance Sequel up!

The Study Group by NinjaGamerFF (M)

Sometimes you just need a break from the grind. Despite the name, the study group was formed as a way to relax from the stress and demands of college. The only rule: don't get attached. Kagome found that easy enough until the newest member came along. What was once supposed to be a fun diversion has become a distraction of a different sort. AU. Lemons.

Feel free to add your own recs in the comments or reblogs! Check our Masterlist of previous lists to see which topics we've covered. After reviewing our submission guidelines, send us an ask (here).

#inukag archive #inukag fanfic #fic rec

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silentmagi · 4 months ago

Text

Rising Star

Main Page

I’m so happy to see you are still enjoying the story, and hope that you continue to join the experiment. Also if you could share it with others, I’d be very grateful. I’d also appreciate some feedback or just a chance to talk about this story.

It’s time to find out what the headmistress, we had a tie between the following:

Scolding her for leaving without permission.

Family news - bad

Yep, it’s time to get into it.

“Do you know the kind of trouble you caused by going off on your own without giving us time to get guards to escort you, or at least someone else to go with you?” the headmistress asked after the pleasantries and introductions were over. “Honestly, did you even listen to me when I said we had to wait?”

“If we waited, we wouldn’t have gotten the books in the cart that I was able to get,” Star defended, annoyance clear in her voice as she was being scolded like a child in front of Luna.

Celeste turned to her, letting out a deep sigh. “Listen, I know you’re upset, and while gathering those books may be important… your father is back.”

That sapped any argument from Star, she stilled long enough to glance over at Luna before clearing her throat. “Are- Are you sure? I thought…”

“I know, we thought with him being… elsewhere… he wouldn’t be able to return, even with the ward spells down.”

“Should I step out?” Luna asked, sensing a tension that comes with family drama.

Celeste paused, glancing at Luna, before turning to Star with a raised eyebrow. Star bit her lip, lowering her eyes, before taking a deep breath and nodding. “She should know…”

“I suppose as our guest and as a friend of Star’s that’s true, Miss Luna,” the headmistress began, taking the glasses off and setting them on a stack of books as she rubbed her eyes. “Star’s father was engaged in some rather… questionable projects with other mages before the Catastrophe, and while we drove him away, we fear that he is going to target the source of the leak of his activities.”

“I didn’t even know it was something bad, I just asked Aunt Celeste about what type of magic needed bodies from the graveyard, and that started the investigation. He fled before the guards could capture him, and as I had shown magical prowess, I was put into the academy. I didn’t even think… I thought he went to another plane, and wasn’t able to come back to the kingdom.”

Luna looked between them, a thoughtful expression on her face as she looked back and forth. After a few minutes, Celeste spoke up. “While we have not had reports of him being near Castledale, he is in the kingdom, and not under arrest. The dark magics he was researching are dangerous and with our arsenal weakened, it’s dangerous for her to be out and alone.”

“Well then, I think that has a simple solution. I will remain with her at all times, and she is going to be sifting through all those books, which I daresay may need some translating or repair in the notes. So, she can work here at the academy, and I can stay with her to keep her safer. Doesn’t that sound like a possible plan?”

Celeste studied the bard with a curious expression, her eyes lingering on the blade at her side, and tapped her cheek while nestling her chin in the thumb of the same hand. “A very good suggestion, I will expect progress reports, and you follow the novice schedule.”

“WHAT!?” Star shouted in offense. That schedule was only two hours of research at a time, with breaks between each of four periods. No later than 8 in the library, and a mandatory morning exercise peri- okay, not she somewhat agreed with that one. She had noticed that the physical exertion had helped her focus a little bit more during the day.

But she could still get more done, why was she being… oh right, the leaving the campus unescorted.

Celeste let the gravity of the situation sink in, as she watched her niece with a small smile. “Yes, I believe that for the next few weeks, that will be your punishment.”

Luna almost let out a laugh at the pout that Star got when she found that she wasn’t able to debate her way out of this. At least she was going to be able to do the research… however, if her father really was back.

Things were not looking up.

However, as they are in the relative safety of Castledale, it was time to start the real work on translating and researching the books and scrolls that had been gathered.

What will she find?

Book needing translated is about the origins of Castledale Academia

Constantly being diverted by side projects

That she enjoys spending time outside of research with Luna

A black cat with golden eyes following her around

#Story #My Writing #Rising Star #My Polls #Star #World Building #Please Participate #Star Main

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ijustliketoreadstuff · 1 year ago

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It wasn't about the miraculous.

Near the end of "Strike Back" when Cat Noir promised he and Ladybug would take back all the miraculous Monarch took from the miracle box, we knew it was only a matter of time before our two heroes would get their chance.

However, simply taking them all back would be no easy fit as Monarch had become unpredictable. They didn't know which miraculous he would use, what he would do next, let alone know the kind of boundaries he was willing to break now that he had so much power on his side.

But out of all the moments Ladybug and Cat Noir came close to retrieving the miraculous(more on this later), there was one moment in particular which raised question, I am of course talking about the moment in "Intuition", when Cat Noir succeeded in grabbing Monarch's hand through the portal, and yet despite knowing the miraculous were in his reach, he did not take them, instead, he chose to activate the power of second chance.

Cat Noir could have taken the miraculous, but he didn't, not because he couldn't, but because in a moment of weakness, Cat Noir realized he could obtain something he couldn't before, revenge. This one moment when Cat Noir finally got a hold of Monarch, was not about the miraculous, it was about Nathalie.

Cat Noir has always felt a great deal of disappointment in knowing Monarch would target innocent people for his plans, but during the events of "Passion", a line was crossed. After losing his mother, Adrien had developed a new bond with Nathalie, viewing her as his new mother figure, but to see her grow just as sickly as he remembered his mother being, left him fearful of her potentially facing the same fate as his mom.

The fear of something potentially happening to Nathalie continued to plague Adrien's mind, so much that Marinette noticed immediately when he arrived to school.

And so, when he found out Monarch akumatized Nathalie in her sickly state, he wasn't just upset, he was furious. Granted, Nathalie was akumatized of her own free will, but Cat Noir does not know this. And although we have seen Nathalie be akumatized in private, as Catalyst, it wasn't until "Passion" that Ladybug and Cat Noir finally faced her as Safari, making the moment all the more impactful and tragic for Adrien as he was left no other choice but to fight Nathalie in order to save her, and just as tragic for Nathalie as Adrien remains unaware that she only agreed to be akumatized so she could save him from an orphaned life.

After Nathalie was de-akumatized, Cat Noir could no longer view Monarchs actions as the actions of a villain, he saw him as a monster for targeting someone like Nathalie. He already lost his mom, he couldn't bare losing Nathalie to, let alone disregard anyone who would dare endanger her.

(Adrien develops a new hatred for Monarch after he akumatized a sickly Nathalie, vowing to make Monarch pay for what he had done.)

As a result, in “Intuition”, when Cat Noir finally came face to face with Monarch all the way out in space and saw the snake miraculous before his very eyes, he thought about what Monarch did to Nathalie back in "Passion", but most of all, he thought about just what the power of the snake miraculous was subjecting Monarch to. Monarch may have the majority of the miraculous, but Cat Noir knew that if he was using the power of second chance for his own self interest, then this could only mean he had now trapped himself in a cycle of failure, one Cat Noir knew all too well when he tried to use the snake miraculous for his own self interest back in "Desperada".

In "Desperada", despite Plagg's warning, Adrien attempted to use the power of the snake miraculous so he could impress Ladybug as Aspik. This of course ended terribly as all his plans ended in Ladybug being captured by Desperada, every single time. Monarch explained that when the second chance is activated, time rewinds for everyone, except the holder of the snake miraculous, the holder remembers everything that happened from all those repeated moments, and that is exactly what happened to Adrien during his time as Aspik.

(Monarch continued to use the power of second chance, believing things can work in his favor by giving himself more time)

(Aspik continued to use the power of second chance, believing things can work in his favor by giving himself more time)

Adrien remembered every moment he saw Ladybug be captured by Desperada, he remembered the unbearable frustration of watching his plans fall apart no matter how many things he tried to change, he remembered the unyielding dependence he had on the snake miraculous to continue giving himself a second chance, to try again and somehow get things to go the way he wanted, simply because he had the power to do so. But most of all, Adrien understood the crushing sense of failure he faced all 25,913 times he used the power of second chance.

(After months of failed attempts, Adrien stops using the power of second chance, devastated as he realizes he cannot save Ladybug, no matter what he does differently)

When Cat Noir saw Monarch using the power of second chance, he wanted him to experience that same crushing failure again and again, all so he could finally make Monarch pay for what he did to Nathalie.

(After nothing but failed attempts, Monarch stops using the power of second chance, his body no longer able to withstand the strain of the cataclysm spreading through his body, even more than it has before)

Unfortunately, Cat Noir is unaware of the fact that his cataclysm is currently killing his father, worst of all, he doesn't know that the power of second chance was speeding up the effects of the cataclysm, inching Gabriel closer and closer to his demise. In other words, Adrien has no idea that his attempts at revenge, had also unintentionally aided in shortening the time his father had left to live.

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ntj2pj · 8 months ago

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reallyyyy lazy ref on my new atp soldat :D

a flee response as atp soldat oc lmao. Man with fastest reaction (enough to catch falling colleague before they break their bones, or pull them away from bullets. He does it quite often.) Feel free to doodle my guy or draw them interacting with your ocs i guess. more info:

a nervous touchy animal who'll just run away if he is being yelled at or insulted too hard (being yelled at by allies and superiors feels much worse for guy than any loud noise or gunfire. poor thing) And even breaks windows to jump away from any height and floor. He really doesn't care and ABSOLUTELY ain't afraid of height. Luckily manages to survive. Fucking gymnast-acrobat. But how annoying he is. TO WORK WITH. You just stand close. sneeze at him not gently enough and HE DISAPPEARS. He gets along with colleagues pretty well... Well, by my AAHW metrics. He isn't popular or favorite, but he gets along with others pretty well and nobody avoids him. He is seen as very non-threating and weak. Or cute. However they call it. He is also pretty tactile (may occasionally try to hold hands or hug someone) and gentle in general, friendly fella. Gets along with mags pretty well and tried to comfort one when saw first time. Extremely good at chasing. Somehow manages to bounce around busy roadways and not become a pancake in the road, getting in windows, getting out, survive and not die on missions. Can do tricks on bicycles cooler than many bikers on motorcycles and usually steals any transport of that kind (but gentle enough to put it back after using). Very expercienced as someone who is being chased. Flee just runs out of AAHW casually without even any plan if triggered, breaks any shit on his way on impulse. And then gets back because Flee doesn't really know how he would survive, doesn't have a plan, and really don't want to leave job. Or, well, gets captured by agents and not even getting so far. His hair was torn out by other soldat who tried to capture him at first attempt to run away, but got kicked (Dan). They're becoming bffs later. Why he got such a weird reaction? Well. In my au every atp gets +- unique programs and modifications which makes them extremely mentally ill useful in different ways lol. ATPs gets their brain messed up and minmaxed in worst and unnatural ways, that's why many scared of it. Amnesia also isn't a good part. Flee was created in AAHW, and his modification ruined his fear-response, too much training created steel reflexes like unavoidable instincts, and messed ability to recognize threats. Guy is very fearless about combats, heights, insane tricks, absolutely doesn't care about risks of breaking any bone or dying (still will do a lot so colleagues won't), but will shit himself from fear and overwhelm if you just say smth mean to him loudly. If it would be done by few grunts he will get nightmares and flashbacks even. Because his sense of being punished and shame is also messed up. For the good of AAHW, of course. At first he was threatened and insulted a lot for this defect, because everyone was confused, then he was used on a trainings because damn he's like a cockroach. And then he was given a little safe place to run in it and not just out of aahw on the streets. aka personal space lmao, until they find out to fix it. But many coworkers find doing little pranks and scaring him funnier because the reaction is just too funny with all that jumping on highest surface in room, or running on all walls and then comedically hit head and FALL. Aaand he doesn't beat them up for it, he just runs as first reaction. Can even bump right into the agent who did it, like an NPC trying to run in a wall, pushing the poor guy like a fucking box in a videogame. Extremely funny idiot. So yeah he gets a lot of occasional jokes for not being aggressive enough. Not to coworkers. :D

#7lroc:fleeres #my art #madness combat oc #atp soldat #madness combat #my oc

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wooziswonderfulworld · 11 months ago

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But what if Bro Zone had successfully hit the perfect family harmony all those years ago?

Here’s my take on it:

Bro Zone: A band of 5 brothers ranging from the ages 18 to 5 years old, They where already the biggest music act in their village only having been together for about 2 years

At a time when the trolls biggest threat was Troll eating creatures called Bergens, which made them live in constant fear, Bro Zone brought a sense of relief and happiness, with their music and dynamic. In a way, Bro Zone was what kept most of their village from going grey

“When you’re people main source of happiness, there’s no room for mistakes” Their manager said to John Dory as the discussed future plans

“No room for mistakes” He would quietly mutter to himself throughout the days

“We would all be grey without you guys!”

“Listening to your music distracts me from thinking about Trollstice!”

“You guys are perfect!”

While the other brothers just took the comments as light compliments, John Dory took them more seriously

“Spruce! 100 more sit ups”

“Clay! Tell us a joke!”

“Floyd! Why do you look mad? You’re not the “mad one”

If he pushed them hard enough, then they would be Perfect.

Trollstice was only a couple months away, the brothers may have been “celebrities” but that didn’t mean the Bergens would spare them, in fact they might’ve been more eager to capture them, and eating the pop trolls most loved members, aside from their royalty

Which is why John Dory had an…idea

“TOUR?” Spruce asked baffled “Now??”

John Dory nodded “it couldn’t hurt, I mean, spreading our music further out in the world! Exploring new places like Um-mount rageous!” He said pointing to the map he had

“John-Performing at mount rageous would be IMPOSSIBLE” Soruce stressed “they’re like, giants that would easily crush us!”

“It was just a suggestion! If anything we’ll just go to other pop villages”

“Oh like, Timbre?” Floyd asked looking up fr his spot “my friend lives over there”

John Dory nodded “why is this one marked?” Branch asked pointing to the village named “Fugue”

The brothers glanced at each other, how does one explain to their 5 year old brother that the village no longer exists as the trolls that once lived there had either completely left or all been eaten “it a Um…”

“Old village! Yeah John’s map is a little out dated, silly John Dory!” Clay jumped in with a grin, Branch seemed to except that answer

“Why all of a sudden? You’ve always been content with performing in our village” Clay asked as Branch went to play “Well, with Trollstice coming”

Floyd covered his ears, he hated talking about Trollstice, they all did, but Floyd could never bare the hear that dreaded word

“I couldn’t help but think, what if one of us is next”

“JOHN!” Spruce snapped as Floyd looked like he would cry “IM SORRY! But it’s true okay?? and if it’s-god forbid-any one of us, then I at least want our names to be known by more trolls outside of our own village! This might be the only chance we get to go on a tour!”

His brothers where silent for a moment thinking

“Okay.”

The past couple of days leading up to the tour had been hectic, the brothers where already stressed, John had been pushing them even harder

Then he made a promise

He promised they would do something no one could ever achieve

The perfect family harmony

Right there, in their home village, the very first show they would achieve the impossible

“ARE YOU CRAZY!?” Spruce shouted “The perfect family harmony?? That’s impossible!”

“It’s not and we can prove it!” John Dory argued back “we just need to practice!”

“And how will anyone know we even hit it? We could use special effects” Clay asked, John Dory pulled something from his hair

A Diamond

“King Peppy gave it to me” John Dory said, Clay rolled his eyes “that’s fake” He concluded, grabbing it and smashing it on the ground

Or attempted too

Because it didn’t shatter, or crack, or anything

Clay picked it up and chucked it at the wall, nothing, accept a dent in their wall

“Huh-I guess it is real”

John Dory rolled his eyes snatching it back with a mutter of “give me that” before tucking it back in his hair.

The days after John Dory made that promise to their fans, he’d become more and more strict when it came to their practices, everything had to be PERFECT

Unfortunately that just made the others (save for Branch) less eager to try

“John Dory, honey” Grandma Rosie Puff said motioning for him to sit with her at the table

“I know you’re eager to want to hit the perfect family harmony, but you’ll never succeed if you keep pushing your brothers away”

John Dory frowned, pushing his brothers away? He wasn’t pushing them away??

He looked at his grandma “what do you mean?”

Rosie Puff smiled “you keep pushing them and criticizing them ever since you made that promise but the more you push the further they’ll go, and soon you all won’t be in harmony”

John Dory sat silently thinking about his grandma’s words.

After that conversation, John Dory was better, his brothers began enjoying practicing, they had fun together.

The day of the concert came, the trolls had all been talking about the perfect family harmony, some even doubted they could do it, actually most doubted they could do it

Bro Zone where on stage, this was it

“ And it’s so perfect perfect perfect “

Colors surrounded the brothers as they sang and dance together, it was working! They couldn’t mess this up

“You’ll never ever wanna let it go”

The brothers harmonized together, in front of them, the Diamond placed in the stage had began to crack more and more

“Perfect Perfect Perfect”

The Diamond shattered, sending a wave throughout the crowd

They’d done it

They actually did it

The crowd cheered and went crazy

The news spread quickly and Bro Zone went from being a local band to be known world wide

Everyone knew about the brother band that successfully shattered Diamond

The brothers held concerts for crowds bigger then they ever dreamed, they where world famous

They where also heavily protected, by order of the king, they could risk their biggest source of happiness being eaten, so they where moved from their pod somewhere safer

Body guards accompanied them everywhere

During Trollstice they where conveniently sent away

Everytime they came back after Trollstice, they noticed more empty pods. Some trolls didn’t understand why they got extra protection, but when the brothers returned, the trolls seemed happier.

This was the common routine, Make trolls happy and stop them from going grey.

This was their purpose, no matter how far the ventured, them being a band kept their village alive and happy

This would be their lives, they couldn’t disband, not now.

Not with all the trolls that relied on them

Not with the king implementing special protection amongst them

Not with their promise to never leave forever.

Shattering that Diamond was only the beginning,

But it led them becoming so much more then just some boy band

They where Bro Zone, and no matter how tired they become of the boy band look, they couldn’t walk away.

Sometimes, just sometimes, They wished that perfect family harmony hadn’t worked all those years ago

#trolls band together #john dory #trolls clay #trolls spruce #trolls floyd #trolls branch #branch didn’t really get a childhood being in the band #but his brothers did their best #John Dory becoming like their second parents.#especially with all the traveling

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miss-musings · 7 months ago

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The Bad Batch Post-"Plan 99" Fanfic

Summary: Takes place between the events of 2.16 "Plan 99" and 3.01 "Confined." Crosshair finds out Omega has been captured and hears about Tech's death. He struggles with the news and his new routine as a prospective CX operative. Later, Omega makes her first visit to his cell. ~15 minute read

WARNING: Lots of sad, angsty thoughts about Tech's death. Don't read if you aren't comfortable with ~50% of it being Crosshair ruminating about Tech's death and his own guilt.

Crosshair’s neck was stiff from pain. He was lying on his back, and could feel the restraints holding him to the medical table. He heard voices around him, but he didn’t dare open his eyes. He hoped they’d still think he was asleep and leave him be.

“He’s waking up,” an unfamiliar female voice said. “Inform the doctor.”

A heavy pair of footsteps stomped away from the area, but he could still feel eyes on him. He heard the hum of equipment and the clinking of metal objects nearby.

“You may release him from the table,” the voice said again.

Someone jostled his wrists, slapping binders on them, while someone else loosened and then took off the restraints on his forehead, chest and ankles.

“You should sit up now,” the voice said to him this time. “The doctor will be here shortly.”

There was no hiding, then.

Crosshair opened his eyes and sat up. A female doctor with thick goggles and even thicker brown hair looked at him. Troopers and a commando were nearby, their guns pointed at him.

Crosshair was in a large room with other clone prisoners lying unconscious on other medical tables in the center of the room, and there were tanks along the walls with eerie-looking bodies inside.

He wondered what new torture Hemlock had in mind for him when the doctor walked into the room, escorted by a commando. His black hair was slicked back, and he was holding his gloved left hand in his right.

He approached Crosshair and said in his chilling whisper-like voice:

“As impressive as your dedication to your former squad is, I’m afraid it has all been in vain.”

Crosshair stiffened.

“Omega is now in my custody.”

No. It couldn’t be. This was some kind of trick. He’d told them to hide.

It was hard to read Hemlock’s face, but in Crosshair’s few interactions with him, he’d been unusually straightforward. Cruel, yes, but straightforward.

But, Crosshair couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

“You’re lying,” he said with a scowl.

Hemlock practically smiled as he gestured toward the door, and said, “I’ll show you.”

Crosshair got off the table and, escorted closely by the troopers and commandos, followed Hemlock out of the room and through the corridors.

They went to a part of the facility Crosshair had never seen before. Some kind of medical wing.

Hemlock stopped in front of a large window. Crosshair stopped and looked in too. He saw a large room full of medical beds, equipment and personnel. Clone prisoners were on the beds, getting blood samples taken.

But Crosshair’s eyes first fell on the shortest person in the room and he felt his heart plummet inside his chest.

Omega.

He hadn’t seen her since the day his squad had left him on that Kaminoan platform, but it was undoubtedly her.

Her light-blond hair was longer. She looked taller too, as she walked around in the light-gray uniform of Tantiss’ medical personnel. She seemed to be shadowing the female clone Crosshair had encountered when he first arrived on Tantiss.

She looked anxious, but didn’t appear to be hurt at least.

Crosshair glanced at Hemlock, who was looking over at him with a sinister gleam in his eye.

“I found Clone Force 99 with the help of one of their own associates,” Hemlock said. “They made an ill-advised attempt to infiltrate Governor Tarkin’s fortress on Eriadu, and lost one of their own in the process.”

Crosshair’s eyes went wide with fear.

“Oh yes,” Hemlock said. “You would’ve known him as Tech.”

No.

Tech? It couldn’t be.

His face went blank as Hemlock continued:

“The others managed to escape custody, but no matter. I have what I need now.”

Even with a million thoughts spinning in his head, Crosshair instinctively looked back through the window at Omega.

She was still following the female clone, who was giving her some kind of instructions. She seemed unaware they were watching her. It must be two-way glass.

He was about to take a step toward it – to warn her, alert her, anything – when the troopers grabbed him and held him in place.

“You needn’t worry,” Hemlock said. “Omega will be safe here, for now. I only need her to ensure my work for the Empire may proceed as planned.”

Nala Se. That had to be it.

Admiral Rampart had sent the Kaminoans’ chief scientist to Tantiss when they decommissioned Tipoca City. And Omega had been Nala Se’s medical assistant. Perhaps they were closer than Crosshair had realized, and Hemlock was now using Omega to force Nala Se to cooperate.

If that was the case, he realized, then she would be safe.

They’d need her alive to ensure Nala Se did whatever work the Empire – or rather, Hemlock – had in mind.

And, going by the pleased look on the doctor’s face, she was.

Hemlock stepped toward Crosshair, putting his hands behind his back.

“And if your former squad ever comes looking for Omega – as I suspect they will – I have plans for them,” he said. “As I do for you.”

Crosshair blinked.

“What plans?”

Hemlock smiled, and said, “You’ll see.”

He then turned to one of the commandos.

“Put him in the detention block,” Hemlock said. “Have him brought to the training room at 0800 with the other candidates.”

The commando nodded and looked to the troopers on either side of Crosshair. They grabbed him by his arms and shoulders, and were preparing to lead him away, when Hemlock held up a hand and stepped toward Crosshair again.

“If you had accepted my offer, you would be free now,” Hemlock said. “But, since you refused, you will continue to serve the Empire. In fact, your true service is only just beginning.”

He looked Crosshair up and down, and took a very calculated breath before adding:

“I look forward to seeing what you will become, CT-9904.”

A chill ran down Crosshair’s spine. Somehow, he could feel exactly what Hemlock’s true intentions were.

The doctor nodded, and the troopers led him away. Crosshair tried to look back at the window for one last glimpse of Omega, but it was too late.

Everything was gone.

*****

All the hours and rotations after that exchange were a hellish blur.

Crosshair and a few other clones were subjected to brutal training and torture – or “re-education,” as Hemlock called it. His plan was to turn them into specialized operatives who were completely loyal to the Empire – to him.

Their conditioning lasted for hours on end every day.

But the nights were worse.

Crosshair was left alone with nothing but his thoughts for hours and hours. Physically hurt and mentally exhausted, he hardly slept each night before the hell of the next day began again.

He kept thinking about Tech. He kept seeing flashes of days, missions, memories together. Sometimes they were cadets, learning how to fight and shoot. Sometimes they were soldiers, running headfirst onto a new battlefield.

He kept hearing Tech’s voice in his head.

“Understanding you does not mean that I agree with you.”

Was that the last thing his brother had ever said to him?

He wanted to believe Hemlock had lied, that Tech was still alive, that his old squad was safe and alive somewhere.

But, he’d been telling the truth about Omega. Why fabricate some long-winded story on top of it?

What the kriff had they been doing on Eriadu? Surely, they couldn’t have been infiltrating Tarkin’s base to try to find him?

He had to know. The uncertainty, the questions were killing him.

But, there was only one person who could possibly tell him; and as much as he wanted to know, he hated the thought of facing her again.

It was all his fault.

He knew it in whatever remained of his heart.

Tech was dead because of him.

Omega was Hemlock’s prisoner because of him.

Hunter, Wrecker and even Echo could be dead, captured or tearing themselves apart with grief, all because of him.

If he’d just gone with them that day on Kamino – he thought to himself every day, every hour – none of this would’ve happened.

Tech would be alive.

They would all be safe.

Maybe they could’ve even been happy.

Crosshair had always despised that his former squad was living job-to-job as mercenaries in the Outer Rim. But, compared to this, it would have been a paradise.

More than once he finally drifted off to sleep with tears in his eyes, only to dream of Tech. Sometimes he died in a firefight. Sometimes he died in a fall. Once he died trying to fly The Marauder away from Tarkin’s mountainside fortress.

Crosshair was almost relieved when the troopers woke him to start the hellish cycle all over again.

There was no chance of rescue. Hemlock would kill or capture Hunter and the others if they somehow found Tantiss.

There was no hope of escape. Even if he managed to elude or defeat his guards again, Crosshair didn’t even know how big the base was, or how to get outside or to a shuttle bay.

So, he didn’t bother counting the rotations. There was no point.

He almost hoped someone would kill him during their operative training. Or he would somehow die during Hemlock’s conditioning.

But, no, he thought. He deserved it.

He deserved all of it.

*****

Not that Crosshair was counting, but it took Omega five rotations to track down his cell.

He was lying on his bed, trying not to think about Tech again, when a familiar fwing hit his skull.

Someone was watching him.

Before Tantiss, he would’ve bolted upright, blaster ready. But now he didn’t bother. They were always watching him.

He felt the eyes drawing nearer and nearer, and that striking sensation against his head became harder and harder to ignore. He could tell something was different. This wasn’t any of his usual inspectors.

There was only one person it could be.

His heart sank when he heard that soft, eager voice whisper to him through the cell door:

“Crosshair?”

He opened his eyes and looked over to see Omega kneeling outside his cell. Her brown eyes, so full of care and concern, stared back at him.

“What—what are you doing here?” he asked as he quickly sat up. “You need to leave, before they catch you.”

Hemlock was smart. He was already using Omega as leverage over Nala Se. Who’s to say he wouldn’t use Omega as leverage over him too, if he felt like it?

“It’s fine,” Omega told him. “The guards are on shift break.”

He rolled his eyes and gave a small sigh.

“And I needed to check on you,” she continued. “You were still unconscious when I first got here. I tried to wake you, but Emerie said you didn’t cooperate with the doctor.”

So, Omega had found him, tried to talk to him even. It must’ve been sometime before Hemlock had gloated about capturing her.

“Crosshair, what did they do to you?”

He shook his head and replied, “It doesn’t matter now.”

He looked past her, and scanned the seemingly empty corridor beyond. He didn’t see or sense anyone else watching.

Finally, he was face-to-face with the moment, the person he’d dreaded meeting.

“What happened?” he asked, taking the plunge. “How are you here? Did they not get my message?”

Omega looked down.

“We did,” she said. “We were trying to rescue you and all the other clones trapped here. We infiltrated an Imperial summit on Eriadu so we could track Hemlock’s ship. But, everything went wrong as we were trying to escape.

“And Tech,” she said, as her voice cracked and her eyes welled up. “… He—he sacrificed himself so we could get away.”

So, it was true.

Tech’s kind face and goggle-covered brown eyes appeared in Crosshair’s mind. His voice echoed in his ears: “Understanding you does not mean I agree with you.”

His brother really was gone. Dead.

Crosshair’s expression went hollow. He felt like a barrage of blaster bolts to the chest would’ve been less painful.

Omega continued her story, but Crosshair barely registered it.

“The next thing I remember, we were back on Ord Mantell and the Empire was there. They took Hunter and Wrecker away, and I tried to free them but Hemlock caught me and brought me here.

“I’ve been asking Emerie and looking everywhere, but I haven’t been able to find out what happened to them,” she said, her eyes wide with desperation and sorrow.

Somehow hearing Hunter and Wrecker’s names snapped Crosshair back into full consciousness.

“They’re not here,” he said. “They escaped. Hemlock told me so himself.”

Hope briefly shone in Omega’s eyes.

“We can’t trust him,” she said. “What if he’s lying?”

“Hemlock is a bastard, but I don’t know why he would lie about that,” Crosshair said. “Besides, if they were here, I would’ve seen them by now.”

“What do you mean?”

Crosshair looked down and didn’t answer her.

He had long realized what Hemlock had meant when he said he had plans for Clone Force 99 if they ever made it to Tantiss. The doctor wanted his own squad of elite clones to carry out his every bidding, and he was especially excited at the prospect of “re-educating” Hunter and Wrecker with their enhanced abilities.

Thank whatever Force might exist in the galaxy that Tech had been spared that fate.

Crosshair looked back at Omega, who was still waiting for his answer.

“You need to go,” he said. “Before anyone finds you here.”

“Alright,” she said in a determined voice. “But I’ll come back the next chance I can.”

“No. Don’t come back here at all. If they catch you…”

“I’ll be careful.”

Crosshair gave a high-sigh, half-scoff. She was just as stubborn and willful as she’d been on Kamino. How had Hunter and the others put up with her for so long?

She made a move as though she was about to leave, but then bent back down and looked at him again through the criss-crossing bars of his cell door.

“Don’t worry, Crosshair. We’re together now. They can’t stop us both.”

Crosshair exhaled and threw her a look that spelled out their exact situation. No hope, only despair. No relief, only defeat.

But, unsurprisingly, she didn’t get the message.

She simply looked back at him with such care, such hope, such… love.

“I knew you would come around,” she said. “Tech did too.”

Crosshair’s eyes went wide. It felt as though the blood in his body had stopped circulating.

“He said you were still his brother, and he wasn’t going to leave you behind. … And neither will I.”

She stood up and silently walked away, as Crosshair’s mind raced with a million new thoughts alongside the same old ones.

He felt his right hand tremoring. He couldn't stop it.

Tech had died trying to save him. Tech had died believing in him. Tech had died still caring about him.

With every thought, every realization, Crosshair felt the same truth beating inside his head like a drum.

Everything.

Everything was all his fault.

Story is subject to minor edits/tweaks as necessary.

#the bad batch #fanfic #star wars: the bad batch #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair and tech #tbb tech #tbb omega #omega tbb #crosshair tbb #crosshair bad batch #crosstech #crosshair and omega #omega and crosshair #bad batch #dr hemlock #tbb hemlock #royce hemlock

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anonymooseforever007 · 2 years ago

Text

Romantic Capture? (Pt 2. Romantic Escape)

(Tommy Shelby X female reader)

Summery: Y/N's successfully managed to con her way to her husband's car keys. Now she's free to have the fun she's been missing for the past week. But with an unexpected call from Polly, will her plans actually go to plan? Part two of Romantic Escape!

A/N: Hi y'all! No TW's for this (Tommy does get accidentally scuffed up tho) but I do think Tommy may be a bit OOC because this part has him talking about his feelings to the reader and I'm honestly not too sure how to write that, so idk if I did it well, but I tried! I kinda see him as someone who doesn't like admitting his fears and mistakes so when he actually does he's unsure of what to say as opposed to his usual suave self and tried writing it like that. So it's definitely got a bit of a different tone than the last one but it's still got good fun bits! I hope y'all enjoy!❤️

WC- 2.9k

Main Masterlist

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The phone in Tommy's office rang.

"Polly? That you? I just started those papers you wanted, was there something else?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You giggled to yourself as you internally relived about your grand success, checking your mirrors one last time before getting ready to drive off. Silently, you thanked your husband for filling up the gas tank on his way back today.

It took months for most people to even try coming up with a plan to win one over THE Thomas Shelby. Keyword try. But you'd managed a successful caper in under an hour. And to top it off, if everything went as planned you'd have some fun with your "poor victim" when you returned. Maybe you should try this thing more often. You had been trying to convince him to let you redo the washroom for a while now. You thought the space would look just lovely with a new coat of paint and padded benches for you and the maids to sit on while talking and folding clothes. Or the garage. There was an empty space there you would have loved to turn into a workshop for the gardener and handyman. It was perfect for tools and lunch. OOH! Or maybe you could finally get the rolling ladder you'd wanted in the library, since you'd first moved in! You always wanted one as a kid! Yes, you would definitely have to try this thing again, especially if it went so smoothly the first time!

But that was for another day. If you left right now you'd make it in time to find good seats. Had this been a film, it would be the part where the captive finally gets out of their cell and starts joyously yelling "I'm free! I'm free I'm fr..."

A hand shot through the window and grabbed the steering wheel. Screaming, you did the first thing that came to your mind. Reaching out the window to grab the collar of your attacker, you yanked them forwards as hard as you could, while simultaneously stepping on the gas. You heard a head hit the car's roof as it made contact with the shiny metal.

"FUCK!"

Wait.

You knew that voice. And the tie wrapped between you fingers....

Oh no.

"Tommy? What the hell are you doing?" You questioned, quickly letting go of him and looking down at you husband who was cradling an injured nose and making sure his toes weren't broken from you almost running them over.

"What the hell am I doing, eh!? What the bloody fuck are you doing," he exclaimed as he got to his feet, using the side of the car to stabilise himself so he wouldn't stumble. He didn't know if he should be frustrated or proud of what you'd just done. On one hand he was happy to know you wouldn't freeze up when surprised if someone came out of nowhere. But on the other hand....that fucking hurt. He could already feel the headache forming and it took a solid minute for his vision to clear. The car was still running and once again your husband reached through the window, trying to grab the keys from the ignition.

"No," you smacked his hand away from the keys, gently but firmly. Tommy gave you a confused look and tried again.

"No. Tommy, no. Leave it. No. Thomas no." accompanied by another few gentle smacks until he pulled his hand back. You used one hand to guard the keys while the other remained slightly lofted, ready to bat again if needed. Tommy looked at you perplexed. In a manner only you could accomplish, he was left with absolutely no idea what was going on.

"What do you mean 'no'? What are you doing, I thought you were going upstairs eh? And Polly called said there were never any papers she needed," he'd questioned. If it was anyone else aside from you he'd probably be very angry by now. Because you'd lied to him, and Thomas Shelby didn't like being lied to. You also nearly ran him over, but it wasn't a first for that and he was honestly more annoyed at being lied to. That wasn't something he took lightly.

Especially when the lies involved stealing his car. But this wasn't anyone else. This was you. You looked at him for a moment before sighing and turning off the car, but remained in the drivers seat. Well, if you couldn't get out through trickery maybe the truth would work. And a little guilt tripping possibly?

"I'm taking the car out," you replied. "I wanted to go to the movies with Lizzie and maybe have a few drinks after. I haven't been out all week and my head feels fine. It's felt fine since the third day, but even then no one let me do anything. None of my friends or anyone else was able to come over either so I've been stuck all week and I'm bored and it's been getting lonely too." You looked at you husband whose face had softened and continued, "So I called up Lizzie and I've got to meet her in half an hour if we want to get good seats. And Thomas I love you, but I am doing this. I know you're on edge because of what happened a few months ago, but I promise I'm all good now. You aren't able to control every little thing that happens to me. I'll get hurt sometimes and so will you, and that's just life. You can't make me live in a bubble after every little bump and bruise."

Reaching one hand out the car window you gently grabbed your husband's chin and ran a finger over his cheek, where an increasingly red mark had begun to form. Thank Heavens, for once he hadn't had a cigarette in his mouth when you'd yanked him. He's probably have a burn on his face too. You really didn't intend to hurt him, thinking it was someone else trying to grab you.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I thought you'd make another fuss if I told you and I really didn't want to argue again. I know you care about me but you have to understand Thomas, I'm a grown woman and can make my own choices about then I feel better. It's the same thing you do when you decide to go back to work after being shot or beat up. When we got married we promised to go though life together. And together means side by side, equal steps. It doesn't mean one gets to drag the other along choosing each path alright," Caressing his cheek one last time, you sighed and moved to exit the car. You were still going out of course, but you wanted to take a quick look at Tommy's face in the house where the light was brighter before you left. You knew you'd be distracted and feel slightly guilty all night, not knowing how much damage your unintentional attack truly caused.

But before your hand made it to the car door, it was Tommy who gently knocked your hand away this time. He placed you hand gently on the steering wheel, holding it there, while he closed his eyes for a moment and thought. Then he released you hand, before making his way around the front of the car and moving into the passenger seat. For a few moments the car was silent before Tommy grabbed you hand again and turned slightly so he could face you better.

"Love... Don't feel sorry for what you did, it's not your fault. You weren't... wrong," Tommy started, slightly unsure what to say. He knew the words you had said were right, but he didn't know what to say next. Tommy never was to good at expressing his emotions, especially the strongest ones like love and pride and fear; and he was feeling all of those right now. But since meeting you he'd gotten a little better. At least it got easier to try. And that's what he did now, sitting besides you in the car while the last rays of the sun's light left the horizon for the day. "I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to control your or our life together. I'm not. I just want you to be safe. I don't know what I'd do without you," he continued, trying to remember what you'd told him one day about how he didn't have to be charming or precise when telling you his feelings. You told him they could be as messy and unorganized as he could manage if it meant he was telling you the truth. As long as he trusted you enough to try and let it out you'd be more than happy to listen. He knew you'd never fault him for telling the truth even if you'd still scold him for hiding it.

"The truth is... the truth is that the day you got hurt something else happened. I got a call from a man telling demanding I sign over half the company or else he'd make you pay for me," Tommy paused for a moment trying to press down his anger at the man, "I wasn't worried at first, figured he was just making empty threats. Didn't think anyone was stupid enough to touch you. Then Francis called about your fall and even then I didn't think much about him, I was only worried you were alright. But then, later that night after I saw you, I was looking at the mail. This fucker also sent a letter to the house with the same fucking demand and I didn't see it until then. There was a photo in it too. It was you and your friends sitting in that restaurant you're so fond of. The one where we always get Finn's birthday cake? I don't know how he got that photo," Tommy stressed running a hand through his hair. He knew the man was dead, but it still made his skin crawl thinking of what he could have done. "I don't know what it was, but that photo and you being hurt... it scared me. I don't want to lose you. So since you were already hurt, I used that as an excuse to keep you at the house yeah? The maids really were to make sure you rested your head, but the cars were so I could try and keep you at the house where it was safer. I even had more men posted around the premises during the day." Tommy took a breath gently rubbing his thumb over your hand. He wasn't use to talking this much, even with you. But seeing as you didn't pull back, maybe he hadn't said the wrong thing yet. "But he's gone now, I got word he was taken care of today and he won't hurt you... No one will hurt you. So we don't have to worry about him. I was going to tell you today, I promise I was. But I'm ...I'm sorry Love. I didn't tell you the truth earlier and you got lonely... I should have found a way for your friends to come here or asked you to drive around with one of me men but I didn't yeah? And that.... that may not have been the best plan but it was the only one I could think of to keep you safe. Because you are the most important thing in the world to me Love and I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt because of me."

Tommy had finished now. He wasn't sure what else to say. He'd lied to you and he knew you hated that. But in his mind it was for a good cause. He didn't want to burden or stress you with problems created because of him. So he'd hid the truth until he couldn't anymore and after admitting his secrets he was left without a script. Most men would promise it wouldn't happen again, but Tommy couldn't do that. He knew that if you were ever threatened like that again he wouldn't hesitated to hide you away where he knew it was safe, even if you were mad at him for it. And you knew it too. So he wouldn't by make a promise he wouldn't hesitate to break. Not today anyway.

The car was silent for a few moments and Tommy wasn't looking at you anymore. He did that sometimes after admitting something to you. Like he was scared to look into your eyes, and see that you didn't like what he said. And honestly, sometimes you didn't. Sometimes you wished your husband never told you the things he'd done that day or whose blood you were washing off his hands in the middle of the night. But most times like tonight, when he'd finally look up he'd see the same love he saw the day he married you and many days before that. You gently took his face in you hands and guided him to look at you again.

"Tommy, I can't say I'm not mad you didn't tell me the truth sooner, but I'm glad you did now," you started, "I'm alright and so are you and no one is going to hurt us. I get why you wanted to hide it from me, I don't always want to tell you what's scaring me either." Tommy averted his eyes and scoffed briefly at the implication of being scared. Yes, it was true but he still didn't like admitting it. "But I'm glad you told me now, yeah? It's better to get it out eventually than hold it in forever. So I wish you'd told me sooner but for now I'm glad you did. And thank you for apologizing, I forgive you... but I just ask next time someone's threatening ME, that I be the first one you tell yeah? Who knows maybe I can think of a better plan to get rid of him than you huh?"

Tommy closed his eyes briefly, leaning to rest his head on your shoulder. Talking had allowed a weight to lift from his shoulders. Not just because he knew the man was gone, but because he'd finally told you the truth. And apparently, it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Yes, he knew you'd still probably lecture him slightly for lying more later, but for now he was just happy for you to know the truth.

"Yeah Love, that I can try to do. Fuck, I can try."

Your fingers pulled the back of his hair lightly as you raised an eyebrow at him.

"'Try,' Thomas?"

A small huff of laughter came from his mouth as he pulled back to look at you again. Now that you'd both told the truth there was a lightness there, which hadn't been present all week.

"Promise, I promise you'll be the first to know if any rat bastard ever thinks of threatening you again eh?"

"That sounds more like it, my dear darling."

This time it was your turn to rest your head on his shoulder for a few moments as silence once more overtook the car. When you looked up again, you moved to gently kissed your husband on his still reddened cheek. As you went to do it a second time he turned his head, allowing your lips to connect with his as he returned the kiss gently. It took a few seconds before he tried deepening it again, and his hands had just reached the hem of your skirt when he was once again stopped. Panting slightly you resting your forehead against his, slightly brushing the loose strands on the back of his neck. He let out a soft groan at that. He loved the way your fingers felt playing with his hair like that, especially if it was late at night when you were both in bed after a long day.

"Tommy?"

"Yeah Love?"

"I still am meeting Lizzie tonight. If I stay at this house for one more minute I may actually set something on fire," you finished, readjusting your skirt and turning the car on again. If you left now you'd still just barely make it. "Like I may actually give Alfie Solomons a run for his money with the fight I'm going to put up if I don't get out within the next five minutes. Or I may pay him to do it for me, the lovely man. He use to be a boxer you know. "

Tommy rolled his eyes at the Alfie comment before smirking and leaning back in his seat, putting one arm around the back of yours, "Alright then Love let's get going."

You laughed, pushing his arm back and turned to him, "Oh, no chance in hell you're coming with me. I may forgive you for lying to me, but you're still not out of the dog house yet. Besides, this is a night for ME and Lizzie. Not me, Lizzie, and YOU."

"Come on Love. I'm sure Lizzie wouldn't mind. After all, it still could be dangerous out there. It is getting dark after all."

"Well then it's a pretty good think I can protect myself isn't it? Remember the gun Esme got me for Christmas? And so can Lizzie. You aren't the only one with tricks up your sleeve. So you. Hop out of the car before I'm forced to make you and," You leaned closer, "how about you spend the time I'm gone planning another apology eh?"

Tommy let out a huff of laughter, but complied. He walked around the front of the car again before leaning down to the still open window.

"Another apology eh? I thought you'd already taken the first one."

"Of course, but you still have to make up for earlier to remember? After all, I won't be out with Lizzie all night and you did say you'd stay in your office until 10:30. That's something else to make up for isn't it? You didn't even give me time to start a bath to hide, cheater," you teased lightly as you played with Tommy's tie and his eyes light up like they had earlier when you'd sent him to the office.

"Oh that's the kinda apology you want isn't it? I can manage that. I can manage that very well Love. How about this time I hide for you to find me? Change up our little game eh?" Tommy kissed your hand teasingly before finally stepping back to let you leave. "Though I did help Curly clean the horses earlier at Charlie's yard, and that was a bit messy" Tommy restated your words earlier, "So when you're done why don't you start by looking in places one can get a little less...dirty eh? Maybe the bath will still be warm...."

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy Shelby imagine #Thomas Shelby x reader #Peaky Blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #peaky blinders

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