#we tried so hard to prevent her from telling him. we really did. i know she was trying to calm him down but like. idk man

[bazelgeuce]

I can't sleep :(

Rant in tags it's long

[kitscutie]

snow and roses: part II (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none except the nature of the Hunger Games franchise! later on in the series there will be hints to dark!coriolanus snow and lots of angst so be prepared!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: part two is here! hope you enjoy, remember requests are open and there are more parts to come :) p.s - all of the love on part one means the world!

word count: 2.3k

find part one here!

join my taglist here!

Over the past eighteen years you couldn't picture a single day you and Coriolanus hadn't spent together. Birthdays, school days, even throughout the war, you spent time together.

Today was different. He hadn't met you this morning and you couldn't help but miss his presence. His character enveloped a room, always making it clear he was there without really having to say a word. You found it comforting, others found it threatening.

The Tributes arrived early this morning and it was something you had dreaded, very soon you would actually have to meet Wovey. Mentor her, care for her, and it riddled you with guilt knowing that it was all a challenge. Her life was a challenge to you.

Coryo's presence could've softened that burden and yet, he wasn't here. No warning no explanation he just didn't show.

"Where's Snow?" Asked Arachne as you all stood outside your classroom at the Academy, preparing for yet another lecture from Casca.

"I wouldn't know." You shrugged, secretly seething at your boyfriends disregard to tell you where he was going before he disappeared.

"Oh please. You two are practically attached at the hip." Scoffed Festus. Fixing his hair in a small compact mirror which he carried around in his bag.

"I heard he's with his songbird." Mock sang Felix. Knowing it would most likely piss you off to the high heavens.

"And where did you hear that, Felix?" You asked, tilting your head in questions, eyebrows furrowed. While Felix was a tease he was not a liar.

"Lucky's newest interview. He was in the zoo with the tributes, I mean it was almost comedic. But, I've got to say the most interesting part was when they held hands." He said. You couldn't hide the anger on your face no matter how hard you tried and it was only made worse when you spotted Sejanus' sympathetic glance from over his shoulder.

"Well, he is very motivated to win the Prize I suppose." You murmured, now embarrassed, even if they weren't aware he was your boyfriend he was supposed to be your closest ally and here he was prancing around with his new decoration.

Much to your pleasure the large wooden door swung open, everybody filing into the room and taking their assigned seats, the one next to yours empty.

His seat.

Finally, minutes later he entered looking rather sheepish. If he was ashamed you were glad, he should be.

"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules Mr Snow." Spoke Casca. Deep down you were pleased that he had broken rules, pleading in your mind that this would prevent any further ventures. "Amongst them, endangering a Capitol student."

"Who?" He asked, stopping in his tracks as though he was insulted by the accusation.

"You. I'm moving for the Game makers to disqualify you as a mentor immediately." Casca answered. Guiltily you were happy, you just hoped your face didn't show it as Coriolanus sat down next to you.

"You said that we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away." He said leaning against the banister of your seats.

"I don't believe holding their hands was in that agreement." You snarled from behind him and you immediately regretted it as he turned to you, hurt that you weren't defending him.

"Right you are Miss L/N." Casca replied.

"Holding her hand, introducing her to people. You make it look as if were one in the same as those animas." Arachne added. You didn't agree with that, they were very much the same as us but his effort to care for her wounded you internally.

"Coriolanus didn't show those people anything they didn't already know. That the tributes are human beings. Just like us. That's why nobody wants to watch the Games, because people know deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn't justify starving peoples children." Sejanus added, yet you couldn't help but feel like Coriolanus didn't truly agree, he just wanted to be let loose for his wrong doings.

"Snow fell. Down in the cage, it fell down in the cage but it landed-" Doctor Gaul appeared, frightening you and many others. She had an atmosphere similar to Coriolanus, threatening and brazen. Maybe that should've scared you more than any District Twelve girl, yet it didn't.

"On stage." Snow finished her riddle without hesitation.

"You're good at games. Maybe one day you'll be a Game maker like me." She grinned evilly. You didn't miss Coriolanus' smile when hearing this and something deep within you stirred.

"Only if the games continue at all." Casca replied.

"Oh they'll continue, with performances like young Mr Snow in that zoo. In fact I came to ask your star Mentor a question. What are the Hunger Games for?" She said confidently.

"They're to punish the Districts for their uprising. To commemorate the end of the war." Coriolanus answered thou hit felt scripted and to some extent it was. That very answer was drilled into your heads from the moment you entered the Academy.

Sejanus began to discredit the Games, calling them what they are. Cruel. Doctor Gaul didn't like that.

"Perhaps the Capitol students are ill suited to be mentoring tributes, perhaps the Games time has passed." Casca said and something about it told you he was on Sejanus' side, that he didn't agree with the very games he created.

"Dean Highbottom is wrong. My classmates too. Maybe Sejanus is onto something, maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings." Coriolanus spoke and you tugged at his shirt for him to sit down, to stop defending this inhumane act but he slapped your hand away. "I mean you saw those kids in the zoo, they just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the games. Make the stakes personal." You felt embarrassed by his every word. Embarrassed by his obsession with Lucy Gray and embarrassed that he believed in these games.

"Who will watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?" Asked Doctor Gaul and even to you, the answer was obvious. Everyone.

"Everyone." Answered Snow, predictable. "If they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning, people need someone to root for and against. We need them to invest. If we bend a few Capitol laws, we could even have them place bets." He continued his proposal.

"You forget you're talking about real people Coriolanus, not just characters in your wider game." You said, eyes cold as he once again turned to you seeming betrayed, you no longer cared.

"Look I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena but if you give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth Prize that she can win peoples attention." He ignored you, instead once again talking about Lucy. You felt sick by his obsession, betrayed. How long had you been the one to care for him, to root for him and here he was digging a dagger in your heart.

"I would like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight Mr Snow." Doctor Gaul stated. "Perhaps your classmate can help you?" She smirked towards you in question.

You shook your head while keeping your eyes trained on the front of the room, you refused to be apart of his play for Lucy Gray's victory.

You sat alone at lunch, thinking. What was going on between him and that girl and why was he suddenly the Games biggest supporter. You understood the Plinth Prize meant a lot to him. That it would open doors but this was a step too far.

"Y/N, a pleasure." A voice you knew all too well said as it took the seat across from you.

"Coriolanus." You answered bluntly before taking another bite of your sandwich. He could tell something was off from the moment you used his full name, usually calling him Coryo.

"What was that little show back there, hm?" He asked, blue eyes a weapon as he glared at you. Something you had never been on the receiving end of before.

"I could ask you the same thing." You replied, putting your food down to glare back.

"It's a competition, Y/N. One which could change my life, I know you don't have to worry about winning but this means everything to me. You know that. I know the games are animalistic but they'll go on either way-." He defended though you cut him off.

"That's what you think I'm upset about?" You said, exaggerating the 'that's'.

"It's not?" He asked, now curious.

"I don't know, Coriolanus maybe I'm upset about you being obsessed with Lucy Gray. I mean, she's all you've spoken about since the Reaping, you held her hand! Risked your life for her!" You exclaimed in angry, drawing attention to your table.

"Oh what, so your jealous?" He smirked, clearly amused by your outrage.

"Jealous does little to describe what I am feeling, Snow. This is another level. When will you realise that that girl is using you, just as you are using her. Nothing more nothing less. I however am still here, I have been there for years, for you!" You shouted once more and he grew agitated as the room stared, grabbing your wrist with unnecessary aggression to pull your face down to this.

"Don't make a scene Y/N. You're acting like a little girl." He gritted out through his teeth.

"Fuck you, Coriolanus Snow." You replied equally quiet and with menace laced in your words. You saw his face change, as if the anger once there was replaced by a mask of sympathy. It felt ingenuine.

"Come on, Y/N. You know I love you right? I have for how long now, years." He said with kind eyes.

"Don't kid yourself." You scoffed. Though his face stayed the same his grip on your wrist tightened, leaving pink indentations.

"I love you, Y/N. Okay? Not Lucy Gray. She's my tribute just like you said, nothing more nothing less." He once again reassured, never giving up his hold.

Finally the fire in your heart gave out to him and his stupid Snow charm. It never failed to make you swoon and hearing those three words, ones you gave to each other not very often, you just wished to be in his arms.

"Okay." You retreated.

"Okay and?" He asked.

"I love you too." You answered, relieved when he let your wrist go, you were quick to move it below the table, scared to see what he had done to your wrist.

"Good. Now come on, I'm going to give some food to Lucy Gray, strengthen her, I assume you would like to meet Wovey." He said, getting up from his chair. You didn't want to meet Wovey, not really, scared to look her in the eyes. You did however want to meet his pretty little Songbird.

You walked together, hand in hand towards the zoo. He was back to his caring self after the flash of rage you previously saw. It wasn't the first time that side of him had flashed and you knew it wouldn't be the last but moments like these made it all worth it.

Your relationship was secret, but you felt no need to hide it anymore, now determined to show he was yours. Show everyone.

At first you stuck by his side, even when he spoke to Lucy Gray and you felt yourself flinch as she rushed over.

"That for us?" She asked as he held food out to her. Watching as she gave some to her fellow District Twelve Tribute, Jessup. "And who might this be?" She asked, eyeing up your joint hands.

"Wovey's mentor." He answered, without a second thought. Though when you squeezed his hand, his answer changed. "My girlfriend, I mean. Y/N L/N."

"Well Miss L/N, you sure do have the cream of the crop here with Mr Snow. He's a lovely young man." She smiled at you, you couldn't tell if it was your own paranoia telling you it was ingenuine or if she really didn't feel happy for you.

"Oh, and don't I know it." You smiled back. "You've equally had such luck I must say. He's a fine mentor." You added, patting his chest as you boosted his ego.

"Well, thank you." He said, kissing your forehead. "But uh, could you give me and Lucy Gray a moment, Mentor to Tribute?" He asked and that once burnt out flame of jealousy flickered within you as you left to speak to Wovey. You watched as they now leant against the fence to talk, lips inches away, crouched together.

Wovey was a sweet young girl, grateful as you gave her food and she shared it with Bobbin who she had been sat with, you didn't mind her sharing seeing as some Mentors has made little effort to offer any help.

You patted her shoulder through the fence, promising your support to help her reach the end of the games though it seemed she didn't care about winning and you admired her bravery.

A scream cut said conversation short as you looked to see Arachne's neck being stabbed with a smashed glass bottle. Play stupid games win stupid prizes.

You and Coriolanus both rushed over. Even if she was mean and bitchy she was your friend for the last five years and you had grown fond of the girl.

You whispered reassurances as she cried, placing pressure on her neck until you were literally dragged off of her by Peacekeepers, watching as her final breath left her body.

"No, no, no." You whispered with glassy eyes as her body became smaller and smaller on the ground - until it was too far into the distance to see.

It was clear the games had officially begun, and the tributes were winning.

TAG LIST:@savannahsteen, @shine101, @tfimherewhy, @iloveyou3000, @summerli-u, @coconut-dreamz, @serrendiipty, @zucchinimalfoy, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @-ice-heart, @aza-writes, @bellstwd, @kaitlyn2907, @wheepsworld, @sarahskywalker-amidala, @velvet-spider, @gloryekaterina, @prettyinsatiable, @bduchrnskei, @riddlerloveb0t, @girlalwaysathome, @thegoldenskies, @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @charmed-asylum, @suvgs, @podiumprincess, @annaelise, @mywitchycat, @italiekim, @darkestbeforethedawn16, @stelleduarte, @leafydinosaur, @witheringawayagain, @clementinechatsshit, @lokidala, @notyourwildestdream, @prettyppetty, @motley-baby, @taylvvrr, @autistic-deer, @gamorxa.

if your user doesn't have a line below it, it did not come up with a username so please make sure it's correct! <3

[ceratedfish24]

I just saw someone say that Scott has a hard time saying that he loves his teammates. I- have you watched Scott? Scott “‘We don’t need [ender]pearls, we already have the best Pearl’ right to Pearl’s face” Major? Scott “saying ‘I love you’ isn’t going to be a hard task for me cause that’s normal behavior for me” Major? Scott ‘“‘the sweetheart’ as deemed by Skizz, Impulse, and Grian” Major? Scott “‘I love you, say it back’” Major?????????? Scott the most loving person on the server other than maybe Skizz?????????????

“Scott is manipulative. He makes himself look good to protect his teammates.” “Manipulative” implies that Scott is lying. Scott stays true to his word. He’s one of the most earnest people on the server. If he isn’t going to defend someone, he tells them that he’s not going to defend them. If he says he’s going to do something for you, he’s going to get it done, which is why a lot of people value him as an ally. It might blow your mind, but Scott’s openness and honesty is what makes people trust him.

“Scott makes himself look strong.” Scott is strong. He wiped the floor with Impulse. He has escaped being chased so many times. He succeeded at a legendary and remarkably underrated bucket clutch. You think Scar’s bucket clutch was good? It was, but he was expecting to fall and onto flat land. Scott was knocked off of a tower onto a hillside. Nobody talks about that. He’s really good at PvP, and people know that. Additionally, Scott has never made himself look strong. He’s a very passive person. He doesn’t like starting fights. Bdubs is terrified of Scott, and Scott has only ever tried to be friendly to Bdubs. Bdubs just knows Scott’s reputation. Martyn is scared of Scott. Martyn has fought Scott first hand and won, and yet he did not want to make an enemy of Scott after Limited Life. Skizz picks a direct fight with a LOT of people, but he never picks a direct fight with Scott. He knows way too well how that fight’s going to go. Skizz will take on Lizzie and Scar and Tango, but he’ll never target Scott if he can avoid it. Scott knows that he’s strong. His MCC rankings are pretty solid proof. You can’t fault him for having genuine confidence in his PvP skills but not actually wanting to fight if he can avoid it. If he loses, that sucks. If he wins, he’s angered a team.

You’re calling him “manipulative” because his enemies are afraid of him and his allies trust him. That is what happens when an honest person is powerful. Most people who have had any experience with Scott know that Scott is not someone to mess with. After fighting Scott in Limited Life and being on his team in Secret Life, Impulse got WAY bolder on Scott’s team, because he trusts Scott to have his back, and Scott does have Impulse’s back. He’s constantly apologizing for Impulse and was very upset when he was asked to keep a trap secret from Impulse. Scott works so hard to be honest in a game where honesty is not always rewarded, and he does not deserve to be slandered like this, especially when nobody else is being treated like this.

Scott never makes himself out to be anything other than what he is. Lying doesn’t go well for him. He is just a guy trying to keep the fighting away from his teammates, and lying isn’t the best way to prevent that when so many people in this game are so clever or so quick to assume you’re lying anyway. Social games don’t have to be about control. Social games can be about building a reputation of integrity by having integrity.

This excludes Joel because Joel is too close to Scott in real life and will attack him because it’s funny to see your friend get irritated with you.

You know who will never say “I love you” in the life series?? Grian.

You know who was “manipulative” last session? Pearl knew there was a trap, promised not to tell her teammates, knew that Scott knew about the trap, and told him “why are we whispering? why are we crouching? there’s nothing there. you’re being paranoid”. Nobody says ANYTHING about that.

You know who likes to look strong? Bdubs, Jimmy, Ren, Impulse, and Skizz. Those are the ones who make themselves out to be bigger than they are, which is a normal strategy in a competitive situation. Bdubs loves to be LOUD and aggressive. Jimmy loves to puff his chest up and make threats, but he backs off the moment someone hits him back. Ren loves to take the lead (3rd Life, Double Life, and now Wild Life). Impulse loves to get aggressive and petty, and his confidence is often his end. Skizz LOVES to be overly aggressive once he’s allowed to kill, but he’s really bad at backing people into enough of a corner to keep them in a fight. Scott is quiet, because he doesn’t like the attention. Scott likes being distanced from the other Wild Life teams, because he likes being out of the way, but he went with the others anyway.

[formula-nyoom]

Hi! I’m currently recovering from a pretty bad hip injury and am doing physical therapy right now. PT’s been really hard and hurts my hip like hell, so I was wondering if you could maybe write about either a McLaren or Ferrari driver (your choice) who’s going through it after a hip injury and is just having a really tough time, but all of the drivers (especially Lando, Charles, Carlos, Oscar, and Daniel if that’s okay - I know it’s a lot hahaha) are there to reassure her and cheer her on.

If you don’t feel comfortable writing this, I totally understand! I hope you have a nice rest of your day/night! :)

A/N: Hope I did ok with this one. Midterms prevented me from working on this but I tried to finish this as soon as possible. Hope you enjoy it.

Realistically you should be grateful that you can still walk after the massive crash you went through in Jeddah. Well “walk” is a loose term. Having to go through physical therapy and making sure your hip heals properly, you’re not able to put any weight on your foot and have to use crutches to walk. The combination of that and the lingering pain has not made the recovery process easy. But thankfully, you were only the reserve driver for Ferrari, which means you didn’t have to rush your recovery.

“How are you feeling?” Charles asked as he packed your bag for the day while you laid on the bed in your hotel room. Him and Carlos had been helping you throughout the week with getting around the Australian circuit and you were very grateful for your fellow teammates' willingness to help.

“I don’t want to walk or move. I don’t want to go anywhere.” You said.

 “I could carry you if you’d like.” Carlos said. You shook your head.

“And risk you pulling your stitches? You just got cleared to get back in the car and we both know Ferrari can’t afford to have Bearman drive right now.” You told him. 

“Please at least let me carry your stuff or drive you to the track. I'm the whole reason you got hurt.” Carlos said. 

 “No you're not Carlos. It's my own fault I crashed.” You said. You could tell that Carlos felt guilty about you having to fill in for him and then crashing during the race, but you kept trying to reassure him that injuries like yours came with the job of being a race car driver. The only person to blame for your injury is yourself, not the teammate you were filling in for.

 “But if my appendix didn't burst, you wouldn’t have been in the car.” Carlos said. Charles rolled his eyes.

 “Ok, the two of you can assign blame all you want for the rest of the day, but right now, we have to get to the paddock.” Charles said. “(Y/N), I will help you get down to the car. Carlos, you can carry her stuff.”

Charles helped you get out of bed and get situated with your crutches while Carlos grabbed your bag and the two helped you get down to the hotel lobby. 

~~~

You had barely made it past the paddock entrance and the fan barricades before everything started to hurt. You knew that navigating the paddock was going to be difficult but you didn’t expect to have to stop and rest everytime your hip decided to flare up with pain. You had already told Carlos and Charles to go ahead of you, not wanting to slow them down. They were hesitant to leave you behind, but you assured them that it’s better they make it to the team meeting on time than have them constantly wait for you. 

 “Hey (Y/N)! How are you doing?” You looked up from leaning on your crutches to see Daniel and Oscar approaching you. They seemed to be in high spirits with it being their home race. 

“I’m doing ok. I’m trying to get to the Ferrari garage but I’m having some difficulty.” You said, motioning to your hip.

 “Let me help you then. I’ll give you a piggyback and get you there in no time.” Daniel said.

 “Are you sure? I don’t want you to risk anything before your home race.”

 “Nonsense. Plus it’s better than you having to walk all the way on crutches.” Daniel said with a smile that was hard to say no to you. You reluctantly agreed and handed your crutches to Oscar before climbing on Daniel’s back. 

“C’mon, I’ll get you to the Ferrari garage.” Daniel said. Oscar followed you two and the three of you started conversing on your expectations for the upcoming race. You did admit to Daniel that the piggyback was much better than walking. Without the crutches, your hands were free to wave to fans as you passed and that helped improve your mood. 

“Oh, (Y/N). My gran made these for the McLaren team and I grabbed you one as a get well soon gift.” Oscar said, handing you a nicely wrapped pastry. 

 “Aww, thanks Osc.” You said. You unwrapped the pastry and took a bite. It was delicious and you smiled. 

 “Oh my god. Oscar, can your gran send these to me every time I get injured? I can already feel my hip healing.” You said. Oscar chuckled.

“I’ll let her know you liked them. But promise me you won’t get injured just for the sake of my gran’s baking.” Oscar said.

 “I promise.” You told him. 

~~~

“What if I don't recover from this?” 

It was late at night. You and other drivers were at a club celebrating Carlos’s win, but you had to step out to get some air.

 “You will. And after you've recovered, you'll win the next race you're in. It's a basic guarantee now with Carlos’s win.” Lando said, who had decided to join you outside to make sure you were ok. 

“I won’t be in another race for a long while. Either Charle’s appendix needs to burst or Kevin needs to get more penalty points for me to be in another race this season.” You said. 

 “Well with the way Magnussen drives, I think you’ll actually have a shot again this season.” Lando said. The two of you let out small laughs, knowing that statement was sort of true.

 “I have to be fully healed before they let me get back into the car.” You said, your smile slowly dropping. “With how everything keeps hurting, especially after physical therapy, I can’t help but feel like that’s not a possibility.” 

“Hey, look at me.” Lando moved your head so you could look him in the eyes. 

 “I know my words can’t automatically heal you, but I need you to know that this pain will eventually pass. You’ll heal, and you’ll get back in that car.” He said. He placed his arm around you and pulled you close to his side without trying to aggravate your injury.

 “And when you do get back in that car, you’ll win that race. Proving that nothing can stop you.”

The smile returned to your face and you pulled Lando in for a hug.

 “I can feel myself getting better already.”

[alyswritings]

Scars

Request: hey can you do one with jj x little sister reader where she self harms and just protective big brother jj ik it's a strong theme but i struggle with it and would really appreciate it

JJ Maybank x sister!reader

Summary: JJ finds out his little sister hurts herself.

Warnings: mentions of self harm, please do not read if this could trigger you!!

a/n: this request has been in my inbox for almost a year and a half. so sorry it took me forever to get out, but hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

The pogues had spent the day out on the water, fishing, drinking, swimming. They had been out almost all day, finally getting back to the chateau and planning to cook the fish they caught.

Y/N and JJ are carrying the cooler of fish to the shack.

"Jesus. Did you have to keep all of them?" Y/N groans, struggling to hold her side of the cooler up.

"You wanna eat or not?" JJ scoffs making the girl roll her eyes.

They put the cooler down and JJ notices something on Y/N's wrist. His eyebrows furrow as he tries to tell what it is, but she moves, all of her bracelets moving up her arm a bit.

"Am I done now?" Y/N asks. "I'm not skinning these things."

"Oh, come on, Y/N/N." JJ wraps his arm around her shoulder. "You don't wanna feel all the fish guts and slime and the beautiful smell and--"

"I hate you." Y/N shoves him away, the boy cracking up while she makes her way inside.

While the boys start to deal with the fish, Y/N and Kie are inside and making corn on the cob and potato salad.

"Shit." Kie sighs, looking in the fridge.

"What?" Y/N asks.

"We forgot to stop for beer." Kie groans. "I'll be back in a bit." She grabs the keys, leaving.

After a little while of being alone, JJ walks in.

"I can't believe we forgot to stop for beer." JJ rolls his eyes.

"Well, hydration is always important." Y/N remarks.

"Water's so boring." JJ whines, staring at the inside of the fridge as if a beer will magically appear.

After realizing he's been there for a few minutes, Y/N shuts the door.

"Hey!"

"Are you trying to make John B poorer than he already is? You don't leave the fridge open, idiot." Y/N chides.

"Okay, mom, jeez." JJ mutters making Y/N roll her eyes.

Y/N opens the cabinet that has the plates and reaches up, failing to get them. She stands on her toes, still failing to grab them. JJ notices and walks over, reaching above her, easily grabbing the plates.

"Shorty." He snickers, Y/N elbowing him in the chest. JJ grunts, coughing at the pain. He takes the plates out, his eyes falling onto Y/N's arm, noticing the marks on her arm. He frowns, freezing for a moment.

"Thanks." Y/N mumbles, taking the plates and putting them on the counter.

"What's on your wrist?" JJ asks.

Y/N tries to hide her brief moment of panic before she turns to him.

"What? My bracelets?" She asks, acting clueless.

"No. N-n-no, under your bracelets." JJ stammers, praying to whatever is out there that he was hallucinating.

"My skin." Y/N gives him a weird look. "There's nothing."

"Show me." JJ orders.

"What?" Y/N scoffs, feeling her fear build up, starting to sweat.

"Show me your wrist, Y/N." JJ demands.

"No. There's nothing. You're just fucking weird." Y/N says, starting to leave.

"Y/N, I'm not joking." JJ grabs her wrist, preventing her from leaving. Y/N cries out in pain when he squeezes too hard, right over some of the cuts. JJ yanks her back over to him, quickly moving the bracelets out of the way, despite her fighting against him.

"JJ, stop!" She yells, but it's already too late.

JJ stares down at the cuts on her wrist, his heart plummeting to the bottom of his stomach. He lets out a shaky breath, eyes instantly tearing up. He grabs her other arm, pushing the bracelets aside to show more cuts.

"Y/N/N..." He shakily breathes out. Y/N winces, her guilt swirling in her chest and causing tears to spring to her eyes. "Ple..." JJ harshly swallows, sniffing. "Please, tell me these were kooks or something."

JJ looks into her eyes, immediately knowing the answer.

"Y/N/N..." He whispers, his voice cracking.

"It's nothing." Y/N tries to rip her arms out of his hold, but his grip is too strong. "JJ, it--"

"Why?" He asks. "Why did-- why would you--"

"Forget it, JJ." Y/N sneers, finally ripping her arms out of his hands. "It's nothing. It's not important. Just leave it the fuck alone."

"Y/N--" He follows her through the hall, the girl slamming the bedroom door shut in his face. "Y/N!" He knocks on the door. "Y/N/N, come on. Let me in."

"Just leave me alone!" She screams.

JJ huffs, pulling at his hair in frustration. He paces the living room, trying to calm his breathing down. He punches the wall, quietly growling.

JJ plops down onto the couch, head buried in his hands. How did he not notice sooner? How didn't he see a single fucking sign? Why didn't she talk to him? Why was he so stupid?

---

Y/N avoided JJ the rest of the night, latching herself onto any of the other three pogues, though mostly Kie. JJ kept an eye on her all night, knowing she wouldn't talk to him, but not able to look away from her for more than 10 seconds at a time.

Everybody had gone to sleep, JJ being kept awake by his thoughts and worry. He's had plenty of time to think of ways to approach his sister, mentally prepared for every outcome -- or at least he hopes so.

JJ slowly opens the door, peeking inside, Y/N sitting on the bed, her back against the headboard. Y/N looks up as the door opens, JJ standing in it. She sighs, looking away, curling into herself. She knows he won't let it go.

JJ walks in and shuts the door. He clears his throat as he sits on the bed, keeping a little bit of space so he doesn't overwhelm her much more. The two sit in silence, both dreading the conversation they know they're about to have. Y/N chews on her nails while JJ's leg shakes, both nervous habits they've had since they were kids.

"Why?" JJ quietly asks, finally looking over at his little sister. She seems much smaller in her curled up position, an exhausted look in her eyes.

"I didn't want to." Y/N finally answers after a few moments. "I..." She gulps as the words get stuck in her throat.

"Y/N/N, I'm not mad." JJ tells her.

"You're not?" She frowns.

"No." He shakes his head. "No, I'm... I wish you would've come to me or something. Instead of..." He glances at her arms. "I would've helped you."

"I just wanted to feel something else." Y/N hiccups, harshly rubbing the tears away from her cheeks. "Between dad and-- and harassment from kooks and other kids and-- and I just... I needed some other feeling. Even... it hurt at first, but then it just... it stopped hurting so much. It felt... just felt something else."

JJ's eyes are full of tears as he listens to her, staring at the floor, not able to look at her broken expression for too long. He harshly sniffles, rubbing his face.

"Okay." He mumbles, clearing his throat, trying to compose himself enough to talk. "Okay." He moves closer, sitting so he's facing her. "Hey." He gently shakes her knee making the girl reluctantly look at him.

"I'm gonna help you." JJ tells her. "With stopping this, we're gonna stop. I'll do whatever I have to, whatever you need me to. I'll be here 24/7."

"That sounds really overbearing." Y/N manages to tease earning a short laugh from her brother.

"Well, you're gonna have to get used to it." JJ states, no longer joking. "And, I'm sure you can understand this, but no more bracelets."

"No." Y/N's eyes widen with panic. "No, Jayje, then everyone's gonna see. I-- it-it's bad enough that those three will probably find out, but-- but dad and-and kids at school and kooks. Especially if Rafe fucking Cameron sees it. I--"

"Okay, okay, okay, hey. Hey, hey. Breathe. Shh." JJ coos, resting his hands on her shoulders, rubbing her arms until her breathing slows down. "Okay. You can wear bracelets. But we-- I gotta look sometimes to make sure you're not..." He harshly swallows. "We'll figure it all out. 'Kay?"

"Okay." Y/N sniffles, wiping under her nose with the end of her sleeve.

"And if you ever feel like doing it, come get me. No matter what time of day it is, if I'm asleep, if I'm working, if I'm smoking a joint. Come get me." JJ tells her and she nods.

JJ pulls her legs down and pulls her into a hug, crushing her in a death grip. Y/N quietly cries into his shoulder, JJ stroking her hair, letting some of his own tears finally fall.

JJ kisses her on the head, holding her closer, if that's even possible.

"I love you." He mumbles into her hair. "So, so much. You got that?"

Y/N nods, clutching onto the back of his shirt. JJ scratches her head, continuing to comfort her, keeping her curled up in his arms while she cries.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse @venomsvl @wildieflower @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @mrvlxgrl @star-wars-lover @champomiel @ironmaiden1313

[fandoms-in-law]

Sweet Hate

Summary: Eddie has an unconventional way to reassure Steve he won't be silent if he gets dissatisfied in their relationship

Authors Note: Based off the McFly song 'Hate Your Guts' It seemed like a good song for a relationship that came from an enemies to lovers trope like Steddie often gets seen as.

/\

It started as a reassurance and a joke.

Steve had only been dating Eddie for a month when he explained what happened with Nancy and his fears of it happening again, of not knowing when someone he dated wasn’t as into the relationship as him.

Eddie had nodded at it all, gotten annoyed, then told Steve in many ways that he’d never do that to him, ending with, “I promise if I ever hate your guts, I’ll tell you immediately. Will you do the same?”

Steve agreed, missing the scheming glint in Eddie’s eyes.

~

They’d been having a quiet afternoon. Eddie was painting some minifigs while Steve pottered with various things around the trailer when he broke the quiet by sneezing loudly. Eddie startled enough his paintbrush almost covered the figure he’d been close to finishing.

“Bless you. I hate you. You couldn’t have held that until I wasn’t holding a brush?” He complained, stretching and leaning close to see if he could save it.

“Nope, could you wipe it off?” Steve asked, wandering over to look at it as well, only quietly adding “Just annoyed? Not actually hate?” quietly into Eddie’s shoulder once there.

Eddie grinned over his shoulder, “Just annoyed.” He reassured, “And maybe. Oh, it could be a backstory thing too.” With that he was grabbing a tissue and entirely focused on the minifig again.

~

Since the first time Eddie had done it the paid had fallen into the habit of declaring their hatred at the smallest things. For Steve if was generally in private, because he’d just go with the flow for a lot of social things, but wanted spaces to be tidy or organised which Eddie struggled with. Eddie however would declare hatred at least a couple times during each hang out and even if they spoke if it was something they’d need to work out, and knew if it was a dumb complaint, they started to get concerned looks from the kids again.

It all led up to Dust in Eddie’s doorstep one morning, upset and confused and resolute on getting answers over why the two people he’d tried so hard to make get along didn’t again.

“Why do you hate Steve?” Dustin demanded as soon as he was let into the Munson trailer.

Eddie shrugged, glancing behind him to the door hiding Steve in his room, still asleep. “I don’t hate him. I love the guy. He’s brilliant.”

“You literally always say you hate him.” The counter was annoyed and paired with a glare even as the kid fell back on the sofa as if he was the one that lived there.

He shook his head, not really sure how to explain why he did that to other people. “It’s not meant and he knows that. It’s just a thing we do.”

“I thought you were dating but you keep saying you hate him all the time.” Dustin grumbled, clearly not believing or not listening to him.

The door to his room opens and out comes Steve, yawning and smiling sleepily. “It’s sweet and I say it back. Like this, Eddie, I hate your guts. I got none of the blankets until you got up today.”

“Not sure how to solve that one Sweetheart, maybe we need separate blankets for sleeping.” Eddie mused, ignoring Dustin gaping between them.

After a moment to be stunned Dustin exclaimed, “How is it sweet to declare hatred all the time?”

“Just is.” was all the explanation given as Steve decided to help himself to breakfast.

~

After that scene the kids still frowned at them some, but seemed less concerned over it. Will once or twice tried suggesting over ways to communicate but didn’t worry if they were ignored.

Robin however had also noticed them and the only thing preventing her from speaking up sooner had been that Steve still seemed happy, almost happier than he had when he first started dating Eddie, she thought.

It still wasn’t something she could entirely ignore though, so one shift when Eddie hadn’t snuck in, she had to ask, “Steve? Are you happy?”

“Yes, why?” He replied automatically, focused on rewinding the returns that had been dropped in during the pre-work rush.

“You’re dating Eddie, but-” She broke off, unsure how to continue and hoping he’d figure out what she was talking about.

Steve turned to her, leaning against the wall now. “But?”

She huffed, just saying as quickly as she could, “He keeps saying he hates you, like everyday.”

“Nah, he loves me. It’s a sweet thing.” Steve corrected though he didn’t argue over how much it happened.

“Sweet?” She asked, confounded, “Normally I can follow your brain, but how is saying he hates you sweet?”

Steve shrugged, swapping the tapes over as the one he’d put in finished rewinding. “I worried he’d hide it from me if he wasn’t into me any more, so he started this. Every small peeve gets said so we can sort it. I just do it less around everyone.”

“But ‘I hate you’?” She asked, feeling entirely stuck on how that could be sweet in any world.

“I check if he means it if it’s too seriously said.” Steve smiles softly, looking at her imploring her to understand.

Robin smiled back, nodding and relaxing, “Okay Dingus. Just know I’m here if it stops being sweet.”

“I know.”

[stevie-petey]

episode three: holly, jolly

Jonathan, your Jonathan, would never do this.  He tries to approach you again but you find yourself stumbling back, knocking against Steve’s chest. Hurt flashes in his eyes, you’ve never flinched at Jonathan’s touch, but what he did has changed everything.  Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hard-wired into them. They just can’t help themselves.”  He begins tearing up the pictures, and you can’t believe Jonathan of all people is making you agree with Harrington, yet here you are.

summary: you and jonathan talk it out and things are better (spoiler alert: they aren't), you somehow end up agreeing with steve harrington ?? then you have a minor breakdown in front of the kids and once again fail to prevent them from experiencing more trauma.

rating: general, slight cursing.

warnings: cursing, use of the word “slut”, fem!reader, use of y/n, and description of a dead body. this chapter is pure angst, steve is steve, jonathan is jonathan, and... well. we know how this episode ends.

words: 6.2k

before you swing in: hello ! i'm currently in the early stages of chapter 5, and it's a loooong chapter, so i figured i'd treat y'all to this one before taking my time with updating. this chapter was a bit difficult in terms of bug and jonathan, but i promise that they'll have more time later to really figure out why they keep clashing - for better or for worse lol. if their relationship feels stilted: that's why ! after all, season 1 is literally titled: we don't talk about it or have the time. the title has immense meaning for the overall tone of season 1 (and the song for the series shhh). anyways, enjoy <3

-

The next day you bike to school alone, not bothering to see if Jonathan’s car will pick you up as usual. 

The two of you have never fought before, at least not like this. From the moment you met him when you were twelve, there has never been a time where the two of you haven’t been on the same page. You’ve been in sync from the moment you met. 

Now it feels like everything is off between the two of you. It feels as if the tiny planet you live on is now off kilter, angled ever so slightly now, rotating out of sync. The change is almost imperceptible, but it’s there. You can feel it. 

Last night just proved that there’s something wrong with your relationship with Jonathan, but you can’t figure out what.

Jonathan has never yelled at you before, and you’ve never turned your back on him; then again, he’s also never kept anything from you. While he didn’t admit it last night, you know him. He was hiding something from you last night and it frightens you that he seems too ashamed to tell you what it is. 

You trust him, you do, but the guilt you saw in his eyes makes you uneasy. 

As you walk the school hallway towards your locker, you overhear some girls from your English class talking about Steve and Nancy. You normally wouldn’t eavesdrop on such a conversation, but the girls were talking obnoxiously loud and by the tone of their voice, they weren’t being kind about what they were saying. 

“I heard Harrington got little Miss Wheeler to sleep with him.” One of the girls giggles, looking around to make sure no one is listening.  

“What a slut!” Her friend sneers.

You clear your throat loudly, making sure they hear it, and send a glare their way. “Well, aren’t you guys just peachy?” 

The girls lower their eyes and shift uncomfortably, which pleases you. Good. They should feel bad. What does it matter if Nancy slept with Harrington? It’s always the girls who get labeled the slut, never the man who has slept with more girls than classes he’s passed. 

Typical. 

You roll your eyes at them and continue towards your locker, spotting the couple in question up ahead. Your locker is a few down from Nancy’s and usually you’ve been able to avoid their gross lovey-dovey sessions in the mornings since Jonathan is always running late, but since you didn’t ride with him, you’re forced to deal with two hormonal teens who you don’t necessarily like. 

“Hey, Henderson!” 

Steve stops you as you walk past, causing you to look up in confusion. “Yeah?” 

“How’s Byers doing? Ya know, with everything going on?”

You stare at him, trying to figure out what the punchline is supposed to be. Steve may not be a massive dick, but he’s still a dick, and you can’t imagine he’d ever ask about Jonathan given the fact that he can’t even remember Will’s name. 

“He’s… dealing.” You say, uncomfortable with the entire conversation. 

Steve nods, letting out a slight hum. “Well, tell your guy that any friend of Henderson’s is a friend of mine.” He sends a wink Nancy’s way, and it’s then that you figure out what he’s doing. He’s playing the nice guy card, trying to impress her with his “generosity”, and you’ve had enough of idiotic and emotionally constipated men these last 24 hours. 

“Funny, I don’t tell my friends to get fucked, yet here we are: get fucked, Harrington.” Steve’s eyes widen at your words, taken aback, and Nancy goes to say something but you cut her off. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Nancy. Why don’t you ask him why everyone’s staring at you? I’m sure it’ll be a thrilling conversation.”

You shove past the two of them and make your way to class. 

– 

You don’t see Jonathan for your next three classes, which only makes your shitty day worse. Not only have you guys never fought before, but you’ve never done the silent treatment either. As far as you can tell, there’s no reason for him not to be in class today besides your fight the night before. 

When it’s your lunch hour you try to find him, because at this point you just want to put it all behind you and move on to focus on Will. You never got the chance to tell Jonathan about El last night, you hadn’t had the time to before things blew up. 

You wait at your usual corner of the lunchroom for Jonathan, but he never appears. You sigh in defeat and pick at your meal, which honestly looks more like prison food than anything else, trying to figure out what you should do next. 

While you’re thinking, Carol’s obnoxious moans carry through the lunchroom. “Oh, Steve! Steeeve!”

Tommy joins in now, banging the table to get a bigger reaction. You see Steve trying not to smile at their antics, but it’s obvious to everyone how uncomfortable Nancy is. You feel pity for her, she deserves better than Harrington and his immature friends. Then again, you suppose she chose this for herself the second she started dating him. 

King Steve has never hidden who he is. 

You watch as Steve says something to appease her, but something catches Nancy’s eye and she turns to face it. Curious, you turn as well and spot Jonathan staring right back at her. They share a look, one that you can’t decipher, and you feel something twist within your stomach. 

It’s not jealousy, at least, not in that way. Jonathan is your only real friend in Hawkins (the kids don’t count, you recognize how embarrassing that is), and you’ve never had to share him before. Clearly Nancy has taken an interest in him of some sort and Jonathan, being ever the private person, has allowed her to, so you just have to swallow down your pride and accept it. 

Besides, you did always tell Jonathan that the two of you needed more friends. 

Taking a deep breath to will your nerves away, you ditch your lunch and follow after Jonathan. Screw whatever silent treatment is in place, he’s your best friend and you honestly don’t think it’s possible for you to ever be angry at him. It just isn’t in your nature. 

For better or for worse, you could never hate Jonathan Byers. 

You catch Jonathan as he’s leaving the photo developing room. He’s holding some pictures in his hands but quickly hides them away when he sees you. 

“Y/N, hi.” 

You ignore the voice in the back of your head telling you that something’s wrong, that he’s still acting weird with you, but you ignore it because you just want some normalcy in your life. You need your best friend. “Hey,”

“Look, I’m so sorry for what I said last night…” 

You brush him off, “It’s okay, I promise.”

Jonathan huffs at you, exasperated as always whenever you let people get away with things that they shouldn’t. “No, it’s not okay. You’ve been nothing short of amazing and I was the dick who yelled at you for it.” 

The two of you are walking out of the school as you talk, and you let out a weak laugh. “I guess you were pretty awful, huh?”

He doesn’t laugh along with you, instead shaking his head in shame. “You didn’t deserve that, not after all you’ve done for me and my mom. I was lying through my teeth last night, you are family, Y/N.” 

“I appreciate the sentiment, but it’s genuinely okay-” 

“Bug, I was a dick. End of discussion. I just… sometimes it feels like I don’t deserve your help, you do so much for us. I let it get to me last night, and I’ll never stop apologizing for it.”

You don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the vulnerability. “Just… don’t do that again, alright? If something is bothering you I’d rather you tell me about it than take your frustration out on me.”

“Deal.”

“Anything else on your mind?” 

Jonathan thinks for a moment and you can tell he’s trying to word whatever is on his mind correctly. “While I know you’ve always loved to help, there’s some things that I have to do on my own, okay? Will, my mom… they’re my responsibility, not yours. I mean, not in a bad way-” 

“Hey, I understand. I need to back off a bit, I recognize that now. I’m sorry, bee.” You kick at a rock in the parking lot, “so we’ve got ourselves a deal?” 

The boy gives you a quizzical look and you laugh at him, extending your hand. When he grabs it, you turn the hold into a handshake. “I’ll calm down my fretting antics and you’ll come to me about whatever is on your mind, no matter what; we don’t hide anything from each other.”

The slight smile Jonathan briefly had on his face vanishes. He pales slightly and quickly releases your hand. “Right.” 

You eye him. “Bee, what aren’t you telling me?”

Caught up in conversation, you and Jonathan don’t see Steve and his gang resting against his car until it’s too late. 

“Hey, man.” Steve approaches, effectively ending your conversation with Jonathan. He glances at you. “Henderson, good to see you again.” 

“I highly doubt it.” 

“What’s going on?” Jonathan asks, putting himself between you and Steve. 

“Nicole here was telling us about your work.”  

Confused, you look at Jonathan. “What, did you start another photo series or something?” 

Steve laughs coldly. “You could say that.” 

Jonathan ignores him and pulls you close behind him, ducking his head down to whisper into your ear, “it’s not what it looks like, trust me.” 

“Bee, what-”

“Henderson, want to take a look with us as, you know, connoisseurs of art?” 

You look at Steve now, more confused than ever, but you feel a slight sense of dread. You know that whatever photo he’s about to pull out will be bad. You know it’ll be connected to Jonathan’s behavior last night, to the guilt he’s been carrying, to the way he hid the same pictures from you not even ten minutes ago. 

You look back to Jonathan now, silently pleading with him for more of an explanation, but he averts his eyes. Exhaling deeply, you face Steve. “Show me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jonathan says, trying to walk away, but Tommy grabs at his backpack. 

“Hey!” You run up to Tommy and start pulling at the bag, but the guy is twice your size and easily wins, accidentally flinging you to the ground. 

Jonathan runs over to check on you. “Y/N!”

At the same time, Steve berates his friend. “Woah, Tommy, easy man! Henderson isn’t who we’re here for, leave her out of this.” 

Both boys crouch next to you and offer you a hand, but you bat them away. You’re irritated and confused and pissed the fuck off at both of them right now for vastly different reasons. You pick yourself up and brush away some dirt that got on your jeans. “Show me the photos, Jonathan.” 

He looks at you, hurt. “Do you not trust me?” 

“Do you trust me?” Your words hang in the air.

Steve is now right behind you. “Oh man he’s like, totally trembling. He must really have something to hide.” 

Jonathan tries to step closer to you, but Steve is now the one who blocks him. You watch silently as he unzips Jonathan’s bag and pulls out the photos, ignoring the pleading look that your friend sends your way. You trust Jonathan more than anyone else in this world, but something doesn’t feel right. 

The photos are tame at first, though admittedly creepy. They’re all still shots of Steve and his friends from the night before, you recognize the famous pool that the whole school talks about when it comes to Harrington’s parties. 

“Your boyfriend is a creep, Y/N.” Steve says, nudging you with his shoulder as he continues to flick through the pictures. 

“He isn’t my-” 

“I was looking for my brother.”

Jonathan’s words make you freeze. “You went looking for Will without me?” 

Steve says something else, but you don’t catch it. You stare at Jonathan, hurt that he’d search for Will without even telling you first. He’s his brother, you understand that, but what would you do if Jonathan went missing too?

Nancy then appears, causing Jonathan to finally look up to catch your eye, but he quickly looks away. “Here’s the starring lady!”

She laughs nervously. “What?”

Carol explains what was going on, and you’re too upset to speak. There’s too many thoughts going through your mind, but when Carol flashes you a picture of Nancy, naked, it takes everything in you not to throw up. 

Jonathan, your Jonathan, would never do this. 

He tries to approach you again but you find yourself stumbling back, knocking against Steve’s chest. Hurt flashes in his eyes, you’ve never flinched at Jonathan’s touch, but what he did has changed everything. 

Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hard-wired into them. They just can’t help themselves.” 

He begins tearing up the pictures, and you can’t believe Jonathan of all people is making you agree with Harrington, yet here you are. 

Nancy is his girlfriend, and even outside of that, Jonathan had no right taking pictures of her naked without her consent. You agree with Steve’s actions, but then the camera comes into play. He reaches for Jonathan’s camera, causing him to dive forward to stop anything from happening to it, and it’s finally what breaks you from your shock. 

You react as well, shoving past Steve to try and get to the camera first, but it’s no use. He beats you to it, Carol now holding you back as she digs her claws into your skin. Jonathan is being held back by Tommy, and all the two of you can do is watch helplessly as Steve dangles the camera high in the air. 

What Jonathan did was wrong, there’s no denying that, but you know how long it took him to save up for the thing. How many awful shifts he picked up at the theater to pay for it, adamantly refusing any money both you and Joyce offered him to help pay for it. 

This camera was his and his alone. Paid for with his own money, bought for his own enjoyment, his pride and joy. 

“Here you go, man.” Without even hesitating, Steve lets the camera fall to the ground. 

You gasp, watching as the lens shatters and you crouch down to try and piece it back together. Your hands are shaking, you don’t know what to feel right now, but with how badly your hands shake, it’s no use trying to fix the camera; you need something to distract yourself with. 

Jonathan and Nancy join you on the ground, but you’re too overwhelmed to really notice them. The combination of emotions leaves you wondering if you’re about to cry, throw up, or both. It’s only when Nancy begins snatching up the torn pictures that you acknowledge her presence. 

You grab her hand and catch her eye, “I’m so, so sorry.”

She doesn’t respond, only giving you a slightly confused look, and you recognize how stupid it is that you feel the need to apologize for Jonathan’s actions. You aren’t his keeper, and until now you never even considered he’d do something like this, and yet the guilt creeps in. You open your mouth to say something else, but Steve calls her over to join them and she leaves. 

Jonathan is still next to you, remaining silent even after Nancy’s departure. You can feel his eyes on you as you continue to fumble with the broken camera pieces as a gust of wind blows away the remaining photo shreds. 

“Shit!” A shard of glass from the lens cuts your finger, drawing blood. 

“Bug, let me-” Jonathan grabs at your hand to inspect the cut, but you pull away harshly. 

“Don’t touch me!” 

“Y/N…” The hurt look on his face is almost enough to make you crack, but the blood drips from your finger and falls onto a picture that somehow didn’t blow away. You look at it, seeing the outline of Nancy’s back in the photo, her beautiful side profile perfectly captured. 

The urge to throw up returns. 

“You’re hurt, let me look at it.” Jonathan pleads, his voice soft, with more empathy than he’s ever shown you these last few days. It’s as if last night never happened. As if you’re some idiot who is always ready and willing to come crawling back to those who discard you whenever they please. 

In a way, you suppose that you are. 

You hate it. 

Jonathan tries to grab your hand again but you stand up before he can. “I said don’t touch me.” 

He tries to grab you once more but again you pull away. Your brain is a mess right now trying to comprehend everything that happened within the last fifteen minutes. You look down at the broken camera pieces still laying on the ground, its glass reflecting in the late afternoon light. 

Those photos of Nancy… 

God, you’re an idiot. 

“Nancy is the reason you were such an asshole to me last night, isn’t she?”

“Y/N, those photos-”

“You knew that the second I looked at you I’d know you’d done something terrible.”

Jonathan is silent beside you, but you don’t need to hear whatever excuse he’ll give you to know that you’re right. Instead of telling you what he did last night, he kicked you out of his home in a guilt-crazed daze, saying horrible things to you that he can never take back. 

Instead of being honest with you, he had been a goddamn coward who hurt you in the cruelest way possible. 

Jonathan runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, you know I’ve never been able to lie to you-”

“So naturally you resorted to screaming at me and saying we aren’t family-”

“I regret what I said, but how was I supposed to tell you about the photos if I don’t even know why I took them in the first place?” 

You start pacing around the parking lot, too overwhelmed to stay put. Jonathan’s words only confuse and upset you more. In the midst of your frantic pacing the cut on your finger begins to bleed more, which causes you to wince and catch Jonathan’s attention.

“Bug, you’re in pain,” his voice is gentle now, the worried crease between his brows now prominent in a way that you’ve always found cute. “I’m not just going to stand around while you’re hurt. Let me help.” 

Unfortunately for Jonathan, his words only piss you off more. 

“You’re not just going to stand around while I’m hurt? That’s fucking rich coming from you, Jonathan.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This entire week I’ve been hurting! I mean,” you let out a laugh laced with tears threatening to spill out. “I lost Will too, did you ever consider that? And I understand he’s your brother and I would lose my mind if anything ever happened to Dustin, but I’ve done nothing but love and support you through this shit show and you haven’t even asked how I’m holding up. I mean, what kind of best friend does that?”

Shame washes over Jonathan. “I didn’t think-” 

“I’ve been exhausting myself trying to help and not once have I considered it a burden because I’m doing this for Will, for you. I’m doing what any decent person is supposed to do, and I’m not asking for praise or-or for a reward but holy fuck, Jonathan! I mean, I understand now that maybe I was bit too much but,”

You’re yelling at him now, all the frustration you’ve been swallowing down these last few days now spills out. “At least treat me like a human being! I mean, the stunt you pulled last night was such bullshit and I was ready to excuse your actions because you’re my best friend and you’re hurting, but then you hide those damn photos from me? Scream at me like I’m some pathetic fucking child because you’re too ashamed of your own actions? We don’t lie to each other.”

Jonathan steps towards you and it isn’t until he’s cradling your head in his hands to wipe away your tears do you realize you’re crying. He’s so tender, gently wiping the tears as they fall, and you feel weak against him, closing your eyes as you soak up the affection. 

“Bug…” His voice cracks, not knowing what else to say. 

You open your eyes now. “You went looking for Will without me… did you even think about what your mom would do if you disappeared too? What I would do if you disappeared?”

“I…”

“And Nancy…” you pull away so that he’s no longer touching you. “That was a line I never thought you would cross. And to lie to me about it, I just… why?”

Jonathan shakes his head, a few tears of his own now beginning to fall. “I don’t know.” 

There’s nothing else you can say; you’ve drained all your energy. A headache is beginning to form and with the parking lot clearing out, indicating the end of the school day, you know you need to leave for work soon. 

Normally when you look at Jonathan, you feel a sense of security, but now all you feel is dread. His shoulders are hunched, the bags under his eyes darker than ever, and at this moment you’re not sure you know who he is anymore. It terrifies the shit out of you. 

“I should go,” you wipe your nose with your sleeve, side stepping Jonathan as you start walking towards the bike stand. 

“You’re leaving?” There’s fear in his voice, and you can hear the undertones of are you leaving me, too?

“I have to work tonight, so I need to-” 

“Let me drive you then, it’s cold and-and we can talk more about this-”

He follows you to your bike and you feel such pity for him. You know he’s right about needing to talk more, but all you want right now is to crawl into bed and pretend that this whole week has been a dream. A horrible, awful dream. 

You offer Jonathan your hand, the cut on your finger no longer bleeding, and intertwine your fingers with his. “I want to be alone right now, okay? Please, just give me some time.” 

He wants to argue with you, you can see it in his eyes, but just like you know him better than anyone else, he knows you just as well. He knows there’s no use trying to change your mind when you get like this; when the feelings become too much and solitude is your only solution. It's happened before in the past, but never with him. 

All he can do is wait for you to come back when you're ready. 

“Okay, I can do that.” 

You squeeze his hand, like you always do, before you let go and bike away. 

He watches as you leave. 

– 

Tonight’s shift is another slow one, which you’re grateful for. 

It was just last week that Jonathan had been driving you, Will, and Dustin to school. You’d been singing some song on the radio and the November air had a slight nostalgia of August warmth. Will and Dustin complained about your singing as you wailed on, Jonathan eventually joining in so that the two younger boys could only cover their ears with their hands and groan in annoyance. 

Now Will is gone, taking the August warmth with him and leaving behind only November cold that leaves your bones feeling raw. 

The laughter is gone, and now you’re afraid that your best friend is gone as well. 

You come home to an empty house, a note on the kitchen counter informing you that your mother is at her knitting club and that Dustin is off with his friends. 

Wonderful. Your brother has once again gone off on some adventure without informing you first. What a lovely addition to your already horrible day. 

You call the Wheeler’s first, hoping that maybe you don’t have to bike around the entire town to find the little shit, but like always: you’re mistaken. 

“I’m sorry, but the boys went out biking right after school.” 

“Oh, lovely then. Thanks, Mrs. Wheeler, have a good night.” 

“You too, dear!”

As soon as you hang up, you allow yourself a moment to just scream. The headache that formed during your fight with Jonathan hasn’t left, you’re tired, you have so much homework that you’re too afraid to even look at, and you still have no idea who El is or what she really knows about Will. 

And now you have to bike all around Hawkins to find said girl, because there’s no way the morons have listened to your orders to stay put with her. 

You check Lucas’ house first, but Erica tells you that they aren’t there and requests that you inform Lucas that her lying fee has been raised to $5. 

“That’s a bit steep, don’t you think?”

“Do you wanna pay?”

“Good point, have a good night then Erica.”

You then search around the middle school, but there’s no sign of them anywhere. After another thirty minutes of nothing, you finally give in to your hunch and bike to the Byers. You’re not sure if Jonathan will be home, but your idiot brother may need you, so you just have to suck it up and check. 

Ultimately you’re glad you do, because as you ride up the driveway you see the boys circling around El. 

“Why did you bring us here?” 

“I have a better question Mike, why did you bring us here?” None of the kids had noticed your arrival, so they all jump at your voice. 

Dustin’s face goes pale. “Y/N! What-what are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you little assholes for an hour now,” you park your bike and step closer to the kids. “Why do you never listen to me when I tell you guys to keep me updated, huh? Do I have a giant sign on my head that says ‘hey, ignore me and treat me like utter shit!’, is that it?” 

No one responds, too stunned by your words. You never cuss at them, and apart from last night, they don’t think they’ve ever seen you so angry before. 

“I’m just so sick and tired of people treating me like I’m some throwaway toy, just casting me aside and forgetting about me until it’s convenient. I have feelings too, isn’t that a wild concept? I mean, who knew Y/N Henderson had any real emotions behind her pathetic need to help everyone around her!” 

Dustin can hear the hurt in your voice and knows that this isn’t just about them sneaking off. You’re upset about something else, someone hurt you and he needs to know who, so he softly asks, “Y/N, what happened?” 

You spin around to face him. “Nothing! That’s what happened! None of you told me anything, everyone has just decided to keep me out of the loop because god forbid I deserve any honesty after years of being there for you guys-”

“Okay, this is definitely about Jonathan then.” Lucas mumbles, which Mike nods in agreement to. 

“This is not about Jonathan-” The sound of sirens cuts you off. 

Everyone freezes, and your heart stops. This is Hawkins, where nothing ever happens; cops don’t just go flying down the street late at night. 

You know, even before you can fully comprehend how, that it’s Will. You can feel it; the sirens are for him, the precious boy you’ve come to love like your own brother. 

Then, to confirm your fears, an ambulance follows behind the line of cop cars, and you feel your entire world shatter.  

“Will…” Mike exhales, and the second the name leaves his lips everyone scrambles for their bikes to follow the cars. 

You know you shouldn’t, you know this won’t end well, but it’s Will. Maybe he’s alive, maybe he simply got lost in the woods and has been wandering around the last three days or so. There’s so many other possibilities, an endless array of explanations, and yet…

Your legs feel heavy as you pedal after the kids. You know that, no matter what you guys end up finding, that nothing will ever be the same again. As you follow, the route you take begins to look familiar, back when you and Jonathan would spend your summers exploring the forest and its surroundings. 

The quarry. 

Suddenly you can’t breathe. “I… I can’t-” 

“Y/N, we have to see if it’s Will!” Dustin calls behind him, too eager to realize exactly where you guys are going. 

If you could just warn them, maybe speed up to block their paths, you could convince them to turn around, but it’s too late. The five of you arrive at the quarry’s edge and toss your bikes behind the fire truck. You see the firemen in the water, sloshing around for something, and you realize what they’re doing a second too late.

Immediately you begin to pull the kids away, not wanting them to see what you desperately hope you’re wrong about, but you’re too late. “Guys, get away from the truck, we shouldn’t be here-”

You’re always too fucking late. 

“Please, we need to leave,” your voice shakes as you try to shield the kids from the sight of Will’s body being pulled from the water.

Mike pulls away from you. “No, it’s not Will. It can’t be.” 

“Mike…” 

The firemen lift the raft up higher and the light lands on Will’s lifeless body, and you feel a piece of you die. He’s always been the smallest of the boys, but as the men lift his dead body out of the water, he’s never looked so small. Will is gone; he’s taken all the light with him. 

Dustin reaches for your hand and is the first to start crying. You pull him into your chest as he sobs. Lucas looks over at you, a silent acceptance in his eyes. “It’s Will. It’s really Will.” 

You grab the boy and pull him into you as well, the two of them now crying as you hold them. All you can do right is hold your boys, staring off into space as you feel them shake with grief against you. This isn’t real. 

From the corner of your eye you see El approaching Mike, and you’re too numb to warn her against it. “Mike…” 

“‘Mike’? ‘Mike,’ what?” He slaps her hand away, which causes you to become alert. He’s hurting, you know Mike loved Will more than anyone else, but he’ll only hurt himself more if he pushes everyone away. 

“Mike, I know you’re upset-” 

He faces you, a betrayed look in his eyes. “Upset? She was supposed to help us find him alive. She said he was alive!” he turns to El now, “why did you lie to us? What’s wrong with you?”

As he yells at the girl you hear his own tears beginning to form, and as you hold his friends, you lean closer to Mike and use your other hand to console him, but he begins to run away. 

Dustin and Lucas watch helplessly as their friend leaves, you all call after him but are ignored. They beg him to stay, too scared to be separated once more now that Will is gone, but Mike doesn’t listen. He grabs his bike, leaving you and the boys alone with El. 

She looks at you, tears in her eyes and a pleading look on her face. She’s looking to you for reassurance, to console her and tell her that everything will be okay with Mike, that he’ll forgive her, but you can’t. 

You also feel betrayed by the girl. You don’t think she was lying, in a sense, but then how can she explain Will’s dead body 50 feet away? El promised you and the boys that Will was alive, but he’s not. 

Tears start to fall down her face. “Y/N?”

You’re sure that when you look back on this moment later, you will have wished that you had done something braver, something more kind to the terrified girl, but you don’t. Instead of wrapping her into your arms alongside Lucas and Dustin, you give El a curt shake of your head, dismissing her. 

It hurts to watch her leave, and you’re ashamed of yourself, but then Dustin lets out another sob while Lucas tightens his hold around you, and you know that you’ve made the right choice for now. You don’t know El or her intentions, but her actions have hurt the people you love the most, and right now you have to put them first. 

You let the boys cry, barely registering anything else. 

– 

Later, much later, after getting Lucas home and tucking Dustin into bed, you finally allow yourself to grieve. You lay in your bed, staring at the framed drawing on your desk that Will had made you for your birthday this year. It was a sweet gift, having drawn you as a princess in one of their DnD campaigns with your sword and shield. Jonathan stands next to you in the picture, holding his own sword and wearing a crown, while Will and the boys are next to him, dressed in their own armor. 

In the picture the six of you are facing a dragon, but there’s a smile on all of your faces as you fight the creature together. You, Jonathan, and your boys; together, there’s nothing that you guys cannot defeat.

It’s your favorite drawing of Will’s. 

And now it’s your last drawing from him. 

The tears come slowly at first, then all at once. You find yourself hunched over, letting out anguished sobs as you mourn for the boy, for Jonathan and Joyce, for your brother and his friends. You mourn for the Byers losing a child, a brother. You mourn for your brother’s now tainted childhood. He’s too young, they all are too young to be experiencing such a loss. 

Will was too young. 

You cry until there’s nothing left within you, and yet the sobs still wrack against your body long after the tears have dried up. It’s a pain like no else. 

Then, as you’re finally beginning to calm down, you hear a knock at your window. 

You get up and fling your curtain open to find Jonathan on the other side. 

Neither of you say anything as you open the window and let him in. Once he’s inside the two of you face each other, unmoving and silent for what feels like years. There’s still a tension there from earlier, though this afternoon feels like decades ago. Jonathan stares at you, a guarded and unsure look on his face, as though he’s afraid that if he breaks in front of you that you’ll push him away. 

Instead, you surprise him by throwing yourself against his chest and into his arms. 

You’re not sure who begins to cry first, but it doesn’t matter. His cries only make you cry harder, having never seen your best friend this heartbroken before, and it’s all so fucking unfair. He doesn’t deserve this, no one does, but especially not Jonathan. He loved his brother so much, with such an intensity that rivaled your own love for Dustin. 

Jonathan pulls away a bit so that he can look at you; tears stream down his face. “He’s gone, bug.” 

“Bee,” you don’t know what more to say. What can you even say? While it feels like your heart has been ripped from your chest along with your bones, you know it only feels worse for Jonathan. No words could ever soothe that ache. 

“He’s gone,”

You grab at his jacket and gently guide him so that you sit on your bed. “Jonathan, look at me.” It takes some coaxing, but eventually he listens. “I’m here, okay? I’m here.”

Your voice cracks at the end, your own grief getting in the way, but it’s all you can say right now. You’re not sure how else to phrase it, how else to tell him that even if everything and everyone else is gone, you’re still here. You’ll never, ever leave him, especially not when he needs you the most now. 

Despite the vague words, Jonathan nods, always able to understand you, and he rests his head against your shoulder as the two of you cry. Faintly you can hear Dustin’s cries through the wall, but you leave him alone. You know he needs to process this alone, just like you needed to, just like Jonathan had before coming here. 

Tomorrow you’ll comfort your brother, you’ll bake the cookies that Joyce loves, and tonight will pass. A day must always end. This day will end, and tomorrow will come. Then, you’ll face this together with everyone you love. 

For now, your best friend needs you, so you let him cry into your shoulder and you run your nails against his scalp and whisper soothing words. Fuck whatever is going on between the two of you. 

Will is dead. The best of you, the purest of you, is dead.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑ taglist - @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau

[mamawasatesttube]

10 for timkon from my favorite timkon writer, please? if u have the time?

10. "I won't let you."

“Go away,” Kon pleads.

His voice is raw, his breath rasping in his throat; he’s crouched amid the rubble, hidden behind a half-demolished wall, all curled up with his knees tucked to his chest. He’s clutching his head so hard his knuckles are pale. Tim looks at him for a long moment, thinking.

If Kon really wanted to, he could push him away with a brush of TTK, could prevent him from taking a single step closer. But he’s too terrified of himself to even think about using his powers on Tim right now. It’s funny—just half an hour ago, before the attack started, he was laughing as he rotated Tim in the air (“See, Bart, it’s a ro-Tim-sserie! Get it?!”).

Tim steps closer. “No.”

Kon scrabbles backwards, his back hitting the dusty corner. “Get—get back! It’s not safe, Rob, please!”

“I’m perfectly safe here.” Tim keeps his voice level as he plops down on the ruined floor next to Kon. “It’s just you and me.”

Kon’s face twists with anguish. “Yeah, that’s the problem—I know you’re not this stupid! She—she tried to m-mind control me, and—and I barely fought it off! What if—if—”

He breaks off for a second, his chest heaving with barely-controlled panic. Tim’s heart aches, just from watching him.

“I could hurt you. Again. Or—or worse—Rob, you have to leave, because—because if I kill you I’ll never, ever forgive myself, I—I’d probably just k—”

“Kon-El.” A note of sternness creeps into Tim’s voice. It does the trick; Kon’s panicked rambles choke off before he finishes that sentence. They both know what he was going to say. “You’re not gonna hurt me.”

Kon’s eyes flick up to meet his, a flash of inhuman blue. All too quickly, though, they drop back to the dust-strewn floor, and Kon bites his lip. “…How’re you so certain?”

“Because,” Tim says, as though it’s simple. It is simple. “I won’t let you.”

Kon inhales sharply. A look of shock, then incredible relief smooths over his features, and he lets out a slow breath, leaning his head back against the wall. “You have kryptonite? God, Robbie, you shoulda led with that, I—it’s a lot easier knowing you could put me down if you have to—”

Tim whips around on him, glaring with the full force of his cowl. His friends joke about it, but the thing is pretty damn unsettling when he needs it to be. And right now, he needs it to be. “Put you down?” he hisses, horror rippling through his stomach and radiating all the way down his legs. “I would never.”

Stunned, Kon stares at him, lips slightly parted, eyes too bright. As Tim watches, his lower lip wobbles just a touch. “I… then what do you mean, you… you won’t let me?”

Oh, for the love of—

Tim reaches for him. Cups his face in his gloved hands, strokes his thumbs over Kon’s cheekbones, and pulls him closer. Presses their foreheads together, cups the back of Kon’s neck. Kon’s eyes are wide as he stares into Tim’s; Tim counts it as a victory that he doesn’t try to pull away.

“How did you fight the spell off earlier?” He rubs his thumb over the back of Kon’s neck, aching inside where it can’t show. Kon doesn’t understand just how precious he is. Maybe that’s Tim’s fault, for struggling to tell him out loud often enough. He’ll work on it.

Kon sucks in a breath. Bites his lip. He still doesn’t pull away. “I… thought really hard about… being my own person,” he finally mumbles. “And about—about what I fight for. What I wanna protect.”

“Bingo.” Tim smiles at him, pets his cheek. “And what do you want to protect? Wouldn’t having it right there make it easier to fight her off again, if she even got the chance to try?”

Kon’s eyes widen. He sucks in a breath, and his lower lip wobbles again. There’s a smear of dust on his cheek from Tim’s glove. Tim tenderly thumbs it away.

“Oh,” Kon whispers, and then—

A net of TTK wraps around Tim and hauls him into Kon’s lap, and then Kon’s arms wrap around his waist as Kon buries his face in his neck. Tim can feel him trembling.

There we go, Tim thinks, pleased. He cradles Kon’s head to himself, strokes the back of his neck again. “See?” he asks. “I told you. Perfectly safe.”

“You have got to stop ruining sweet moments by saying ‘I told you so,’” Kon mumbles into his neck.

Tim laughs, squeezing Kon’s shoulder. Just like that, he knows—his clone boy will be okay.  

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA if I actively worsen my family’s sanity as revenge for worsening mine?

My family is that if two parents and three children (all in our 20s).

Without getting into deep specifics, basically, I’ve lost all the patience I’ve had for my family. My mom who is manipulative, my dad who is neglectful, my siblings who are egotistical and dismissive.

because I’m the middle child and oldest daughter I’ve been the brunt of every negative thing you could think of, and I dealt with it for… 25 years.

but this year as my New Year’s resolution I swore to treat them worse than they treat me. So every time my mom tried to manipulate me into feeling bad for her and to love her and to do the house chores, I threaten to kill myself and tell her that she was an awful mother and that if she really cared for me she wouldn’t ask me for things. (She knows I have mental illness that makes it hard for me to do things)

and when my dad puts my pet in danger I slap him and threaten to take his pet to a shelter to have him euthanized and tell him he should die alongside his pet (he is in his mid 60s)

I don’t do anything directly to my siblings because our relationship honestly isn’t that bad, but I did make a fake Instagram account that I use to call out one sibling for all the stuff they do to keep their image up or whatever (some bullying might be involved in their part)

and for my other sibling, who collects vinyls, occasionally I go and scratch up a vinyl they have. Just enough to make it seem like normal wear and tear, they haven’t noticed yet lol.

whenever my parents try to bring up my behavior to me I start yelling at them about how I’m crazy and they raised a crazy daughter and that everything I do is a result of their own creation. And my dad has offhandedly said to let a (female) pet die after she got injured once, so I bring that up all the time.

I tell him that since he hates women so much he should just shoot me like I know he wants to.

Over the past few months I’ve noticed that one sibling has become extremely paranoid, while the other has gotten very frustrated. My dad avoids me now and my mom is very obedient and quiet.

I don’t feel bad about this, and I know there are other things I could have done, but I feel like this has been worth 25 years of repressed anger. Now that the year is almost over, I’m considering that my New Year’s resolution be to try to fix whatever shit show has become of my family, but that’s not the point.

AITA for taking this revenge, or am I justified in paying them back?

the reason I don’t think I’m the asshole in this situation is that at least for the first several months, they tried doubling down on their bullshit. My mom got more manipulative, pulling out everything she could to make me feel bad for her and to submit to her again. And my dad became violent toward my pet, whom I’m protective of to the point where I’ve told every single person I’ve met that if anything happened to her I would kill everybody and then myself. (Luckily I was able to prevent my dad from actually hurting her, but the fact that he tried drove my goal further).

honestly, my sibling probably didn’t deserve it because we all pretty much ignore each other, but I’m holding the grudges from childhood when they would beat me up and break my stuff.

and before anyone says it, I went to therapy for four years and it just made me more angry

What are these acronyms?

[cloudrumble23]

Puppet girl wanted her to get to know the other ghosts in the pizzeria. To help her "adjust." To prevent corruption from taking over her soul.

Well fine. Cassidy could do that, even feeling the rage boiling under her skin as she considered the thought of anything other than plotting her revenge on their killer. Did the puppet even care? Probably not.

Still, Cassidy could handle it. She could make friends with that quiet kid who never left the suit. Puppet girl hadn't even had a chance to have a conversation with him yet since she was too busy babysitting everybody else to prevent them from corrupting.

The golden suit was crammed far back in the corner anyway. Nobody really seemed to acknowledge it, and Cassidy knew that the puppet girl only knew about it because she'd put Cassidy's soul there. Unintentional companionship, Cassidy thought to herself, squatting down in front of the suit to examine the eyes.

Sometimes there was a faint pinprick of light when she did this. Other times, there wasn't hardly anything to spot. Today was a bad day. She squinted intently, trying to make out the spot of light that she knew was there constantly, but there was no sign.

Resigning herself to actually talking to this kid was maybe not a good idea. He was hard enough to communicate with on a good day, and today was definitely not one of those. Still, Cassidy dove straight into the suit, knowing she'd have to go deep to find the quiet kid who shared the suit with her.

"Are you down here?" Cassidy called, looking around the eerily red space. "Hello?"

She heard a faint sob in response and hurried over to it, seeing him curled up in a ball on the weirdly colored grass.

"Okay," Cassidy sighed, pulling him upright. "What's the deal?"

The boy had his face buried in his hands still, something that continually frustrated Cassidy. They'd encountered each other briefly before, and he never tended to speak. She knew there was the lingering mark of death on his face, a flag of red spilling down an otherwise monochrome appearance.

In life, Cassidy might've even said he was cute, but she didn't have time for such things anymore.

Her fingers looped around his wrists as she adjusted herself to sit in front of him. "Look, I'm not typically the pushy type, but you're the person I know best out of anybody here, and I'm supposed to be making friends so that I don't get corrupted or whatever. Which means you gotta deal with me."

He didn't respond, even as she managed to peel his hands away from his face, revealing thick, oily tears that spilled all the way down his face and coated his hands. Corruption, Cassidy thought suddenly, a chill running through her.

"Okay..." Cassidy exhaled slowly as he peered at her through his eyelashes, briefly distracted from his emotional turmoil.

She swiped at the substance, hoping it was easy to remove, but she ended up smearing it across his face more. "Umm, oops?"

He only blinked at her, seemingly unbothered by the mess.

"Look, I gotta be honest here. This is way out of my range of knowing what I'm doing. And uh... puppet girl says corruption is bad." Cassidy gestured at their hands, coated in corrupted something or other. "And this stuff looks like corruption."

"Oh," the boy answered softly. He glanced at his hands and then at hers. "I'm sorry."

"What? No, you don't need to apologize. We just need to-" Cassidy took a deep breath, something she wished was still helpful. "Okay, why were you crying?"

The boy's mouth thinned, trembling slightly.

"Never mind," Cassidy said quickly. "Could you tell me your name?"

"I... I guess..." he replied, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm... Evan..."

"Okay, Evan." Cassidy tried to smile at him. "I'm Cassidy. I possess Golden Freddy."

"That's not his name," Evan said immediately, his mouth turning down in a frown. Something flickered in his eyes, a memory of some kind. "His name is Fredbear."

"Uh huh." Cassidy didn't know what to make of that. She really did need to talk to the others, didn't she? Clearly, there were many things she didn't know. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that. I just kinda gave him a nickname, I guess."

"It's alright." Evan clasped his hands together in his lap. "That's a lot of blood."

"Oh, yeah..." Cassidy looked down at her torso, still unimpressed with the fact that the bloodstains had carried through with her death. "It's a symptom of death, I guess."

"Do I... Do I have one of those?" Evan asked, his mouth creasing in worry. "Is it on my face?" His voice seemed to get higher with every realization.

"I-" Cassidy didn't know how to respond as he crumbled into tears again. "Yes? I mean, we all have those. It's okay, don't cry."

Her reassurance didn't seem to get through to him.

"Hey," Cassidy pulled him into an awkward hug, making him tumble half into her lap. "It's not a big deal. Even puppet girl has some bloody marks on her face too. And her neck."

Evan hiccuped. "Really?"

"Yeah, it's something we all deal with. I mean, it still sucks because that's so invasive to just know how other people died, but-"

"At least we're all in it together?" Evan asked, the tears spilling from his eyes no longer dark and inky.

"Yeah." Cassidy tried to smile at him. "We've still all got some stuff we can keep private though, like what we were like when we were alive, but as far as dying and our killer go, we got stuff in common."

"Our killer?" Evan seemed horrified. "He killed other people? Besides me?"

"Yeah? He killed all of us," Cassidy's mouth twitched. "Did you not assume that?"

"I thought it was an accident. He said he was sorry and that it was an accident," Evan started muttering to himself, hyperventilating.

"Okay, I think you need to calm down a little bit-"

"Calm down? We're dead because of him!" Evan's eyes flashed, and the hysteria in his voice increasing as he spoke. "He lied to me!"

The black inky substance was leaking from his eyes again.

"Evan, we all had that feeling of hopelessness that you're feeling right now, and I know it hurts, but please. You'll be corrupted if you don't calm down!" Cassidy felt pressure rising behind her own eyes as she spoke. The threat seemed much more likely now that she was witnessing it happen.

Evan shuddered in her arms as she tried yet again to wipe away the tears. "I'm so bad at this," she said to herself as she continued to make it worse.

"Join the club," Evan whispered, gripping his elbows with what would've been bruising force in life. "I can't ever seem to get anything right, either."

"It looks like I made a finger painting on your face," Cassidy admitted, wrinkling her nose.

Evan huffed out a small laugh. "Probably an improvement to how I looked before."

"Nah, I think you're cute, but I made it worse." Cassidy scoffed.

Evan froze. "You... what?"

"I made it worse?" Cassidy answered with a questioning tone. "Like, I made you cry a bunch, and then I smeared it all over."

"Oh, right. Yeah, that makes sense." Evan shook himself out of something.

"Did you always used to cry this much?" Cassidy asked, suddenly curious. She'd never heard him talk so much, and he was going to probably never do this again.

"Always," Evan said regretfully. "My family hated it. Mikey and Lizzie said I was the crybaby of the family, and they were right. It was so stupid. Mikey told me to 'man up' all the time and be a better older brother to Lizzie, but I just..."

"Your brother sounds like a jerk," Cassidy said.

"He's worse than a jerk, since he killed all of us," Evan huffed, peering up at Cassidy's face.

"Wait, what?" Cassidy frowned, suddenly confused. "Jeez, how long ago did you die?"

"Like... four years ago?" Evan answered, sitting up.

"But..." Cassidy was even more confused. "You seem too young to have died so recently. Like, your brother is a full-grown adult."

"No he isn't." Evan's face wrinkled up. "He was only fourteen when I died, so he wouldn't be older than eighteen right now."

"That makes no sense." Cassidy replied, shaking her head. "I died two years ago, and he killed me while wearing that stupid yellow bunny suit."

"Rabbit suit?" Evan echoed. "No, that wouldn't be Mikey. Mikey hated Spring Bonnie. Father kept trying to convince him to have more interest in the animatronics, but Mikey only cared about Foxy."

"Then..." Cassidy's throat tightened. "We weren't killed by the same person. We couldn't have been, not if you were killed by your brother."

"You were killed by my father," Evan told her, his face twisted in a different kind of sorrow.

He's trying to tell me without making me cry, Cassidy realized. How could anyone end his life like that? Evan was too sweet for his own good, and clearly some people hadn't appreciated him the way they should have.

"How do you know that?"

"He never let anyone else wear that suit, Cassidy. Not unless something changed after I died."

"Oh..." Cassidy didn't know how to feel about that. "So, your brother killed you, huh?"

"It was an accident." Evan stood up. "I don't..."

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Cassidy said quickly. "I was just curious."

Cassidy stood up and glanced around a bit. "Do you ever wonder why everything down here is red?"

"Sometimes," Evan shrugged. "I don't see anything in any other color anyway."

"You... don't?"

"No."

"Have you ever left the suit?" Cassidy asked. "I only ever see you down here."

"I didn't know I could leave." Evan blinked at her.

"Come with me." Cassidy said suddenly. "You have actually been living under a rock, for real. Come see where we are."

"Oh. Okay..." Evan reluctantly followed Cassidy as she made her way out of the suit and back into the real world.

"So, this is Parts and Service." Cassidy gestured at the grungy room filled with broken animatronics.

"Who is this?" Evan asked softly, having walked away from Fredbear to trace a line down Foxy's snout.

"That's Foxy," Cassidy answered, coming to stand by his side. "Fritz doesn't tend to hang out around the suit much, not during the day anyway."

"Wow," Evan said, his voice wavering. "They actually made them all into animatronics?"

"Yeah, there's Freddy, and Foxy, and Bonnie, and Chica. They're a bit rusted out, and now they're just used for parts, but..." Cassidy shrugged. "I mean, the kids go around and have fun during the day, pretending to still be alive."

"You say that like you don't," Evan turned to her, clear tears running down his face. Does he ever stop crying? Cassidy wondered.

"I don't tend to join in. I'm a bit too aggressive for the things they like to do."

"What do you like to do, then?" Evan asked, his hand still resting gently on Foxy's head.

"I don't know. I just don't feel like playing anymore. I don't feel like pretending to be alive when I know we were all murdered, you know?"

"I guess..." Evan blinked. "What if you could help kids who were still alive?"

"Help how?"

"I don't know. Cheer them up when they're down or something, I guess. Like you did with me."

"I wouldn't say I cheered you up," Cassidy scoffed. "You're still crying."

"These are good tears," Evan replied.

"Well, I don't think that would work, in any case. Nobody can see or hear us."

"They can't?" Evan sounded disappointed. "Well, that's..."

"They can see the suits moving, at least," Cassidy offered. "It's just that you can't really communicate, and I've only ever used the suits to scare the security guards."

Evan stroked the fake fur on Foxy's head, not seeming to really be listening anymore. His shoulders drooped and the tears were darkening again.

"Hey, what's up?" Cassidy asked, finding herself reaching for Evan's face yet again to clear up the corrupted tears.

"It's nothing."

"Clearly that's not true," Cassidy pointed out, holding her inky hand in front of Evan's face. "Tell me what's going on."

"I want to see my family again. I guess I was just hoping that I could tell my brother that I forgive him and miss him and-" Evan cut himself off with another sob. "It's stupid."

"It's not stupid," Cassidy replied stubbornly. "I bet we can find a way."

"What if he doesn't even come here, Cassidy? What if he-"

"Foxy's his favorite, you said, right? Well, if that's true, we need to find a way to get him back in commission so your brother comes back. And then we can try to find a way to get communication between you two again."

"Why are you helping me?" Evan asked. He looked so silly with his face all squished like this, but Cassidy couldn't help it.

"Because I'd like to do something good for once," Cassidy whispered. "And I think it'd be nice to see you smile."

"Oh," Evan answered as Cassidy stretched his cheeks up to force his mouth into a makeshift smile. "Hey, stop it!"

Cassidy laughed. "Make me."

Evan swatted at her hand, a short huff of laughter escaping his mouth. "I can't!"

"Then you're stuck! Oh no, how terrible it is to smile again!" Cassidy grinned in his face, finally relenting in time to see him naturally smiling.

He giggled. "You're ridiculous, Cassidy."

And you're adorable, Cassidy thought fondly, surprised by the sudden protective urge that washed over her. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I dunno. Depends on if you're ticklish or not," Evan replied, the silver of his eyes gleaming menacingly as he dug his fingers into his sides.

Cassidy gasped, surprised that the same jolt of nerves she'd always felt when she was alive was still possible as a ghost. "Hey!" She laughed, even as she crumpled forward, tucked into Evan's shirt as she continued to struggle.

"You want to know the best part about this?" Evan asked, grinning down at her. "I don't even have to stop."

He was right, Cassidy realized. She was laughing so hard she couldn't draw breath, but since they were dead, it didn't make a difference. It's crazy how much joy there still is, even after dying, she thought, still struggling to squirm free.

Maybe the puppet girl had been right after all. Cassidy just needed to make some friends.

Or a friend, she thought looking up at the laughing boy who shared the suit with her.

There was still joy after death.

Especially with Evan around.

Thank you to @pixlokita for this adorable piece of fanart for this, by the way!

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Pyrite - Final Chapter: Valonqar

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Daemon gets to know the joys of quarantine and faces conflicting feelings in the hours after Otto's and Mellos’ execution.

Warnings: Execution (Via beheading) Mentions of abortion. Mentions of physical violence. Dub con (Reader is given a choice but due to the nature of the power imbalance between Daemon and her, she doesn't really have one)Implied smut. Unhappy ending for anyone except Viserys.

A/N: I am sorry to the requester, I deviated a bit. But we are done!!!!

Daemon grabbed you by the arm and dragged you towards his chambers. He was not happy about being on babysitting duty, but he knew it was the only thing they could do. Without his protection, you would not last a day out there. He had been able to read the truth from your face after just one conversation. Otto Hightower was much more shrewd than him, you would break in seconds.

He supposed Aemma could keep you in her rooms and prevent the scandal. But privately, Viserys had confessed he feared she had gone mad with grief. He did not trust her to be in the same room as you without clawing your eyes out. Daemon did not understand her actions, since you had tried to help her, but he wasn't a mother either. Aemma seemed traumatized by her child's death.

She cursed your name for having your letter arrive too late. Daemon was not a woman. Nor did he presume to know the mind of one, but it seemed a little unfair. You had looked out for her at your own risk, yet Aemma still wanted more.

Viserys could not keep you, either. He was too afraid for his reputation, now that he was about to become a King. What would people think of a servant girl being kept in his rooms?

He didn't admit it, of course, saying that he was only looking out for your honor, but Daemon could tell that Viserys lusted for the throne. Now that he was so close, that he had lost so much on his quest for it, he was not going to lose it for an insignificant girl.

If he truly cared for your reputation, Viserys would have never agreed to keeping you in Daemon's chambers. Who would marry you, after? Everyone knew what Daemon liked, after all. Young maidens, all soft limbs and cute little faces, all for him to ruin. What commoner would want you after being a Prince's whore?

He wasn't planning on touching you, at first. But the way you looked up at him, all frightened eyes, while sitting on one of his chairs, made his cock twitch with interest.

You were a pretty crier. It was something Daemon had noticed when you were discovered. Your eyes would get glassy, and your lower lip would stick out in the slightest pout. You looked good enough to eat.

He could not wait to see you cry on his cock. But if he acted too soon, you would hate him for it. And they needed to be in your good graces so you didn't do anything stupid on the trial.

It was going to be hard, Daemon thought, as he took a look at your face. Aemma had done a number on you, and his retrieval hadn't been entirely gentle either.

You sniffled, pitifully. Daemon kneeled in front of you with a sigh.

“Let me look at your head.”

You gave him a distrustful look.

“I am not going to hurt you. I want to tend to your injuries.” He explained, patiently.

“For some reason, I don't believe you.” You frowned. “Give me a cloth and I can do it myself, Prince Daemon.”

Daemon fought the urge to laugh. Who did you think you were, ordering him around? Instead, he grabbed a cloth and a pitcher of water, and brought them over to you.

You wiped your hands and face with it. Daemon watched, aware that you would not be able to clean the wound on your head on your own. You tried regardless, dabbing a clean cloth over your scalp, trying to reach blindly for the spot that was oozing blood.

He kept his eyes on you, not interfering until you were visibly frustrated.

“Do you need help?”

“No.” You glared, rubbing at your scalp harshly. Daemon stepped closer and took the cloth from you, ignoring your indignant squeaks. He assessed the damage to the back of your skull.

Your hair, braided back as it was, was matted with blood. He was unable to see much, but it seemed to have stopped flowing.

“I will unbraid your hair to look at the wound.” Daemon warned, and started taking your braid apart.

You went very still on your chair, as he untangled sticky hair strands from each other. Your braid was simple, but well constructed. It was clear that you knew quite a bit about how to do your own hair, considering the softness of it. It didn't feel like the hair of any other commoner Daemon had ever felt before. A shame it was caked in blood. He would have to ensure you got a bath soon.

As he parted your hair, shifting it in different directions, he noticed the small laceration on your skull. Nothing was showing through it, not even bone. Daemon knew that was a good sign. It was sizable enough to merit stitches, though.

“I will need to sew this. Do you need milk of the poppy?” He asked, as he went to collect thread and needle from his vanity. A Maester should be the one doing this, and he doubted he had the necessary qualifications to do so, but at the moment, Daemon had no other choice. He didn't trust anyone.

“Do you even know how to sew wounds, my Prince?” You asked, looking at him over your shoulder. It was a fair question, had he not been a squire a few years back. Daemon had earned his knighthood not so long ago, and he still vividly remembered his training.

“I am a knight, girl.” Daemon rolled his eyes. It wasn't as if he styled his name with the title, like some other cunts did, but he still was one. “Do you know what that means?”

“That you are supposed to uphold your oaths, my Prince?” And oh, how sweet. You truly were a naive little thing. It was no wonder you had charged into danger as you had, if you still believed in that bullshit. To Daemon, knights were just like any other men. No more honorable nor more just. Oaths could be broken, after all.

“Yes. But also that I was a squire. I have sewn a few wounds before, including my own.” But never a head wound, he thought to himself. Ah, what you did not know wouldn't hurt you. If he told you, you would insist on a Maester. Daemon couldn't risk it. No one could know you were here.

“I rather be awake, my Prince.”

“Suit yourself.” He stepped behind you and pressed down on your nape, getting you to lower your head. Daemon made sure you were still before starting sewing.

With each pass of the needle, you tensed more. It was a foolish thing to do, only increasing your pain.

“Don't tense. The pain is worse like that.” He advised, and kept at it. You obeyed, forcing your body to relax. It still looked like you were sitting rigidly on the chair, but you weren't clenching your jaw any longer.

As Daemon progressed, he kept a close eye on your reactions. Knuckles turning white against the armchair, breath coming out in pained little sounds. But no tears fell. Had you cried them all already? Or were you too proud to show your pain to him?

With you unmoving, it was not difficult to finish your stitches. He took a step back, admiring the white thread decorating your skull. It contrasted harshly against the red of your blood. Daemon felt oddly proud of it.

“You can have the bed tonight.” He grumbled, annoyed. Why did he feel the need to help you, suddenly? Playing nice was one thing, but why was he feeling bad? It had only been a hit to the back of the head. He had done much worse when dueling men. Drew more blood, severed more limbs. Even took their lives.

But you were a woman. A girl, really. Around his age, and vulnerable to the world. It felt uncomfortably like hurting a child. Why? What made you special? He had taken quite a few maidenheads already, and not even then he had felt like this. You looked like a wounded bird.

“What if I get blood on your sheets?”

“The servants are used to it.” The joke felt flat on his tongue. He gave you a wink, but his heart wasn't in it. Daemon could not stand another second in this room with you, reeking of pain and staring at him with those betrayed eyes. Better to head out and hit the city. He needed to numb himself. And by the time you were up, he would just be getting in.

Daemon allowed you to exist undisturbed in his room for almost a week. He provided water for you to bathe, and fresh clothes for you to change into. The routine stayed the same. He went out at night, and you slept in his bed. When you woke, you had to get out of it and entertain yourself so he could sleep.

He usually enjoyed a night out. But the constant whoring and drinking was beginning to tire him, especially since it was affecting his training. There were only so many brothels he could visit before noticing he was unsatisfied with the stock their carried because not one of them looked like you.

Ugh. The urge to fuck you was messing with his head, making him unfocused. Daemon had actually lost a sparring match this week, but he was unsure if it was from a lack of sleep or being plagued by thoughts of you.

He needed to get you out of his system. He had enough. You no longer looked like a wounded little bird. It was time to make his move.

That night, Daemon decided to skip the brothels. He sat on his bed, freshly bathed after training, and just watched you stew.

You were sitting on a pillow in the corner of his room, some books spread out around you. They were part of his small collection on Valyrian herbs. You were wearing your night shift already, and sneaking glances at him every few minutes.

He was breaking your unspoken arrangement, you sure thought. Daemon was supposed to leave so you could sleep. A shame it was not happening tonight.

“Girl.” He said, once he had enough of watching you squirm. “Pour me a glass of wine.”

You looked at him. You gave an annoyed little huff. Even if you did not dare voice it, Daemon could see the protest in your eyes. You were not used to serving men, from what he could tell. Nor were you used to serving wine. You thought yourself above those tasks, one of those fancy handmaidens that only brush hair and run baths.

And it showed. Sure, you were tidy and didn't make a mess of his rooms, but you didn't help either. You had not reached for a broom in your whole stay, or dusted anything. If he wasn't a tidy person, the place would be as unsanitary as a cheap brothel.

It had never bothered him before, not being able to call for a servant to clean his rooms. But it now did. He tried not to think very hard about why that was. It didn't mean anything. Your presence did not upset him. He was just bothered by the fact that you were like a leech.

Daemon had no use for you. His space was being invaded by a girl with unsettling eyes, who acted as if this was her prison and did not contribute at all. Anyone would be bothered by it. Right?

Anyone would be done with it. Daemon would rather behead Otto and end it all. But apparently, you could not just behead one of your subjects, or everyone started talking about Maegor the cruel.

“I do not have any use for a commoner.” Daemon stated, plainly. He advanced towards you, grasping your chin in his hand. “Do you understand what will happen to you if I kick you out?”

“I'll die.” Your voice shook. Daemon scowled. He didn't like the thing that you were doing with your eyes.

“Then you best try to please me, right?” He ran his thumb over your cheek. “Wouldn't want me to hand you over.”

You shook your head. You went and poured him his wine.

“I don't like your eyes.” Daemon said, impatiently. “Try to smile more.”

You gave him a weak smile. It set the tone for the rest of your interactions. You were a clumsy cup bearer, and took badly to sleeping on the floor. Daemon had to constantly snap at you to wipe the sad look from your face. It looked ugly, and the only good thing you had to your favor were your looks. That was why his stomach twisted when he caught you thinking of home or your family.

When the day of the trial came, you looked relieved. You managed to give your testimony without any issue, and his grandfather ruled in their favor. Aemma gets her revenge, with the King allowing Viserys to bring the head of Ser Otto and Mellos to his wife. He can't bring himself to do it, so it's Daemon who swings the sword instead.

Otto Hightower kneels for his execution with great grace. He sends Daemon a glare, but doesn't say a word. Mellos, on the other hand, screams and pleads all the way up the steps to the block.

Daemon gets a sick sort of satisfaction when he sees them both kneeling at his feet. Is this what being King feels like? He wonders, as he shares a secret smile with Aemma, who stands in the first row of the crowd. The power to hurt those who have wronged you.

Next to Aemma, you stand. You look pale and fidgety, but the grip she has in your arm prevents you from escaping. It's only fair, she had said, that you get to witness the King's justice you helped bring. You don't seem excited about it.

“Any last words?” Daemon asks, as he unsheathes Dark Sister.

“Please, don't, this has been a mistake!” Mellos screams. Daemon waits patiently. When nothing more than incoherent sobs come out from his mouth, Daemon glances up at his grandfather.

King Jaehaerys looks grim, but determined. He nods. Daemon takes Mellos’ head with one clean swoop of his sword. The head rolls into the basket with straw, preventing the blood from running everywhere. The eyelids still move. The crowd gasps, and Daemon feels strangely empty.

“I am ready for my last words now.” The Hightower cunt says, with a firm voice. Daemon can't help be both annoyed and impressed by it. Most men, like Mellos, would be shitting themselves in fear. But Ser Otto remains calm and regal, even when he knows he is about to face death.

“Speak.”

“Good pious people, I have come here to die, for according to the law and by the law I am judged to die. I do not wish to accuse any man or woman, for if the King says I am to die, I shall. I only ask that my actions are judged fairly in the years to come, and no harm comes to my family. Let it not be that the crimes of the father follow the son. I take my leave of this world and ask you to pray for me. To the Seven I commend my soul, please, Stranger, have mercy on me.”

And maybe it was the hypocritical speech, or the fact that Otto Hightower was the mastermind behind the plot to hurt his family, but this time Daemon swing his sword with much more force than necessary. The head rolls out of the box and into the crowd, falling near the first row, among horrified screams.

Right at your feet.

You turned and left. And Daemon stood, with his bloodied sword, still near the executioner's block.

There is a feast after. One that you are not allowed to attend. Nothing so crass as to celebrate the death of the two criminals, but rather, the settling of the succession issue. The plot, even if it had to do nothing with Rhaenys, had been damaging enough to doom her hopes of being Queen.

It is then, high on victory and still wearing a dirtied sword, that Daemon decides to use his power over you. It's not a conscious choice. There is something in him that broke tonight, something to do with a severed head and your look of disgust, and the cheers of Aemma and Viserys. It's something about feeling empty, when having the world at his fingertips.

He is soon to be the Prince of Dragonstone. With Viserys lack of heirs, he might even become King one day, if he doesn't set aside Aemma and finds himself a younger wife.

Daemon wonders if Aemma realizes how precarious her position has turned, now that she got her revenge. If she had kept quiet, if she had let Rhaenys get the Iron Throne, her position would be secure. The Arryns would not allow Viserys to put her aside.

But now, that her husband will be King, she will never be safe. Queens fall every day, as Rhaenys has learned. It seems it is time for Aemma to learn that lesson.

You are packing your things when he gets there. Clothes and a small collection of trinkets from the time you had spent by his side. It enrages him. You can't leave. Not when you are the only person who can understand what these weeks have been like. The only one who knows exactly the kind of monster Viserys has turned him into.

“Where are you going?” It comes out more aggressive than he intends to, but you no longer cower at his voice.

“I don't know.” You meet his eyes and keep your voice soft. “Away, my Prince.”

“No, you are not.” Daemon orders, and leaves Dark Sister laying on the rug. The blood rusts the blade, but what does it matter, at this point? If you are leaving, he can call a maid tomorrow. If you are not, everyone can know you as his whore. “Pour me some wine.”

You obey, in silence. Your hands shake slightly.

“Pour yourself a cup, too.” Daemon says, patting the space by his side. You sit, very stiffly.

“Well done.” Daemon says. You give him a little nod. “Now take your dress off.”

“Excuse me?” You jump up so fast, you might as well have never been sitting. Your hands ball by your side, an indignant expression clear on your face.

“Come on, girl. You are not that stupid.” Daemon rolls his eyes. He has protected you for nearly a fortnight, let you take his bed and food and not even once touched you. He killed a man today who would have crushed you like a worm. No one else would want you after this, no one else would understand you. “You owe me a great debt. What other use could I have for a commoner?”

“I can pay my debt in other ways.” You protest, and go back to gathering your things.

Daemon laughs. It sounds broken to his own ears, cruel and shrill. You turn to face him, noticing the difference in tone. Yet, he is not deterred, even when he barely recognizes the cruel tone he is speaking in.

“Yes. You can. I think you would make a fine dragon keeper. You have little skill for anything else, but anyone can shovel shit. I think five years of that would be a fair trade.”

“Or I could just go.” You threaten.

“You could.” And get yourself murdered in the process because there is no way Viserys and him are letting you walk away with all you have learned in your stay with them. And if they don't get you, sickness and famine might. As the northerners say, winter is coming.

“Princess Aemma…” And it’s only then that Daemon gets fed up. You think Aemma out of all people will protect you? Aemma? Has he been doing such a shitty job of it?

“Aemma said I had to protect you. She did not say I couldn't have you.”

“I…” You start, but Daemon is too desperate to care about how cruel he is starting to sound.

“You should hope her reach doesn't go far, as the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Tell me, how much do you have? Enough to buy passage into Essos?”

“I'll stay.” You untie your dress, with tear filled eyes. It falls to your hips. Daemon rushes to you like a man possessed. The urge to own, claim, to keep, is too strong to resist.

He wastes no time in burrowing himself in your skin, your hair, carving a place for himself inside you. He is a monster. And intends on devouring you whole.

His love will strangle you until nothing is left. Maybe one day you will be his Queen if Viserys doesn't leave Aemma. By then, you will be just like him.

He kisses down your throat, and lowers a hand between your thighs.

“Stay.” Daemon says, and it feels like the first link on the chain. “Stay.” Muttered between your thighs, as he drowns himself on you.

“Stay.” As your blood stains his shaft, and you moan, confused by whatever you are feeling. As your hips meet his, as you are desperate to choke, to die in his hands.

“I'll stay.” You whisper back, coming down for your high, and the lock clicks.

Has really a key been thrown away if no one hears the sound it makes as it falls?

[moonrisecoeur]

moon! hi :3 pls do me a favor and imagine taking care of best friend!leon after he breaks up with his girlfriend and he’s all soft and subby and pleading with you to take him and make him feel wanted and useful :((

hi baby of course anything for u <3

i’m assuming you mean his girlfriend from pre-re2 so this would take place in a non canon universe ^-^ literally no warnings besides possibly cheating?? this is very soft and melancholic with a hopeful ending

he got into a big argument with his girlfriend, which is hard for you to even fathom. you know she did something bad because leon has been nothing but good to her. he’s always been caring, attentive, giving her everything she asks for and expecting nothing. he could give her the world ten times over and his knees would get weak if she gave him a kiss.

she must have really done something terrible, because leon’s here, at your place, begging you to let him in with tears in his slightly red eyes. pleading with you to give him the comfort and softness and reassurance he needs. so you do. because you love him.

though honestly? you know leon doesn’t like you like that. it’s okay that he doesn’t, because he has (had? you’re not sure yet) a girlfriend. he’s supposed to love her. he’s supposed to be loved by her.

so it’s just something you’ve had to live with if you want to keep leon in your life. he’s a good best friend, and a reliable shoulder to lean your head on when you need him. he’s always been there for you; this is your time to be here for him.

you let him in, having him sit on your couch while you get him some water and a blanket. you sit next to him while he tells you what happened. the details aren’t important, what is is that his hand is on your thigh as he talks, and you’re not sure if it’s only for the emotional support that physical touch brings people.

“i think i need some space from her. i think… i don’t know if we should break up… should we? do you think that’s for the best?” he asks, looking up at you. he truly values your opinion, even if he doesn’t know it’s secretly biased.

“i think it might be if you’re feeling this miserable,” you tell him, and he looks down at his hand, finally seeming to realize he’s been massaging your thigh muscles for the better half of ten minutes.

“oh, shit! sorry…” he apologies nervously, but doesn’t take his hand off of you.

“are you gonna.. let go?” you ask him, raising an eyebrow, and he doesn’t seem to have an answer.

“…do you want me to?” he asks in return, his voice is more timid than usual. he seems… nervous.

“no,” you say, and you make eye contact, suddenly a little bit closer than before, “it felt good…”

he nods slowly, not towards anything in particular, “i really appreciate you, you know…” he says suddenly, “i like being here with you. i like…” his voice trails off, his face seeming redder than usual.

you don’t respond, hoping that maybe he’ll build up the courage to say the final word, you. (you know he won’t).

“can i ask you for a favor?” he says, and you nod attentively, not realizing that you’re touching his arm in a soothing motion, but he definitely does, “can you tell me to leave… if you don’t want to deal with me being needy right now?”

“you’re not being needy because you need emotional support, leo—”

“not that kind of needy,” he says. when the dots connect in your head, you have to physically prevent yourself from gasping.

“leon, you- you have a girlfriend! i… i’m not just going to-”

“but i need you… please, don’t think about her. i… i’m gonna break up with her,” he tries to convince you.

as much as you want to say no, leon, you’ve said that before when she’s hurt you. you’re always going to keep running back to her, you can’t. clearly you don’t have it in you to turn him down. though a part of you aches knowing that it’s not you he needs, it’s just someone. someone to kiss away his worries and make him feel valuable.

you still press your lips to his shoulder, making your way up his neck to kiss his tear-stained cheeks, “no more crying,” you whisper to him, hands holding him gently, like he might just break, “only good feelings when you’re with me.”

“only when i’m with you,” he echos mindlessly, holding you back, hands on your hips to hold you close to him. it really hits you what leon meant when he said he was needy. he didn’t just mean he was horny, though you can tell he definitely is, but if he breaks up with his girlfriend, he doesn’t belong to someone. isn’t claimed, isn’t taken. is it a little insulting? maybe.

are you going to turn down the opportunity to fuck your best friend and make him yours, even for just a night? absolutely not.

“please,” he voice is strained, entangled with a hunger you’ve never gotten the pleasure to see in him before. even just thinking about the way she was allowed to touch him, the way you just know he looked at her like she was the stars in his sky.

you can see something else in his eyes now. he’s insecure, nervous, timid. he seems to be exuding this vibe of ‘i’ve never been good enough for her. please let me be good enough for you.’

he says to you, “wanna be yours.”

and so you let him, because you’d give leon anything, “i’ll make you mine, i promise,” you whisper in his ear, “can i kiss you?”

he forces out a shaky breath, nodding. you lean in to kiss him, fingertips brushing against his jaw. he makes a sound of pleasure, of satisfaction. your free hand reaches up to run through his hair.

when you pull away, his lips chase after yours, not wanting the moment to end.

“i need you,” he whimpers softly, eyes shut tightly for fear that you’d see him and hate when you saw in your best friend, “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

“‘s okay, baby,” you mumble, pressing another kiss to his lips, which he accepts gladly, “you belong to me now, mkay? i’ll take good care of you. forget about her, you’ll be mine from now on.”

his heart skips a beat. he nods enthusiastically, “yours,” secretly, over the time of your friendship, his heart has always yearned for belonging, but especially to you.

and much later, when you’re both finally satisfied, his mind is quieter, not telling him all those bad things. instead, he’s laying on his back, enjoying the way your hands touch his neck and shoulder in smooth, comforting motions. he holds you with an arm wrapped around your waist like he’s pleading for you to never leave him.

maybe leon did like you in that way, it definitely seemed like it from the way tonight went. or maybe he didn’t, and he just needed someone to take him and make him theirs. he needed to belong to someone who wants him and needs him, to be useful and pleasurable to them. he gave you his all in hopes that you’d take him and make him feel wanted again.

who really cared about the semantics when you get to be with him in this moment? you appreciate every second more as he brushes a piece of your hair behind your ear and smiles softly at you... like a lover would.

[myabsurddreamjournal]

Fate (Part 3)

Soldier boy x Fem! reader

Summary: Reader is a scientist who is forced to work at lab that they keep soldier boy frozen, she talks and cries to him when she is alone, thinking he can't hear her but he hears everything.

her head was on something comfortable and warm, gentle fingers were brushing her hair. Her mother used to this after certain days, when her mind became so loud, all she could think about were the bad thoughts, the things she saw on the news, the things she heard from radio while sitting on the school bus, that dead body of a fox in the road, crushed by a car.

They haunted her. All her life, Even as a child she knew something was wrong with her, because unlike her, none of her friends were in constant fear and sadness. No matter what she did, Laughing or crying, big part of her was always thinking that she wasnt meant to be in this world.

that this world was wrong.

Fingers were on her cheek now, caressing it softly. She chased it with her head,

-"You sure resembe a kitty"

what?

this wasnt her mothers voice.

She opened her eyes in shock, A very familiar face with green eyes was looking down on her.

-"S-soldier boy!?"

-"I was afraid that you hit your head too hard back there"

Suddenly she was aware of sharp ache on the side of her head. But there was something else, her head, it was in his lap! heartbeat starting to speed up, she tried to stand up but his hand on her shoulder prevented it.

"Don't." he said sternly. "You need to lay down for a while"

"O-Okay.."

"H-how? " i mean w-what happened? where am i?"

"in a plane, we are going back to U.S."

she looked at him confusedly.

"You passed out back there, i carried you." he added.

upon hearing this, she looked at the surroundings, giant boxes and packets were everywhere. No seats were in sight. "must be a cargo plane" she thought. But why did she passed out?

she tried to recall past few hours, the sirens, and gunshots, the tall guy telling her to wake him up,

the last thing she remember was throwing that damn ashtray, then..

Him saying her name.

how could he know that?, it was impossible

"it could only happen if he was.." told a voice inside her.

suddenly, a horrible feeling started to form in her gut.

-"h-how do you know my name" she asked with a trembling voice, Praying that answer wouldnt be the one she expected.

-"i heard everyhting you told me."

For a few seconds, she was silent, the weight of what she just heard making her dizzy.

She tried to fight the feeling, not wanting to be so weak in front of him.

But when his hands started to stroke her hair again, her eyes became glassy, she closed them, tears falling on her cheeks,

she couldnt believe it, didn't want to believe it, all this time he was there, hearing her while she was crying and telling everything about her life to him, apologizing to him.

Admiring to him.

Taking his blood. Poking him with needles.

he was aware of everything they did.

She was sobbing now, trying to be quiet, she covered her face with hands but soldier boy pulled them away moments later,

-"Why are you crying doll?" he asked,

-"B-because i-i always found solace at the thought, that you were not in pain anymore, that you were asleep so you couldn't feel it." I never wanted to do the things they told me, the thin-

she couldnt finish because he lifted her chin with his finger, making her look at his eyes directly.

she gasped at what she saw, his green eyes,

they were burning, burning with rage.

she could almost see the flames in them, like in her dreams. The dreams she had since she was a child.

he leaned towards her and slowly took her arm in his hand, looking at the burn mark there.

-"they will pay for what they did." He said,

-"To you and me."

Notes: I hope you guys liked it! your comments are really important to me, also, do you guys also hate the world? Always feel free to talk to me :)

taglist: @deans-spinster-witch @mfnqueen1 @ponypickle @butchers-girl @verypostcrown

[sxxythingz]

Let me show you

Lo’ak Sully (21) x Na’vi fem! Reader (21)

Warnings: smut, p in v, breeding kink, cursing, cream pie, mentions of cheating, aged up characters

Summary: After some time of dating while you were human, you decided that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Lo’ak so you became Na’vi. You didn’t realize that while you were still human, he wasn’t exactly faithful to you until one day you catch him in the act. After you decide to leave him, he figures out a way to make it up to you.

WC: 5.0K (I didn’t realize it was that many words guys I swear)

🛑MDNI🛑

“Get your hands off of me, I am done!” You yell as you snatch your arm out of Lo’ak’s hand, storming through the forest as tears threaten to fall from your eyes. “Wait y/n, just let me explain! Come on, don’t be like this.” He says as he follows behind you while you quickly paste through the forest, far away from his hut.

“No! There is nothing to explain Lo’ak! I caught you with yet another girl. What is this, like the 5th girl in the past few weeks?” You abruptly come to a sudden halt and stand in front of him with your arms folded. He looks at you, defeat in his eyes and he huffs loudly. “I’m sorry, ok? I won’t do it again. It was a mistake y/n, I swear!” He says and you chuckle as you throw your hands into the air. “Cheating on me 5 different times is a mistake? Have you lost your mind, is that what you really think in your head? That this was all a mistake?” A broken giggle leaving your throat to stop you from crying as you run your hands through your soft, loose braids.

“No. I’ll tell you what the mistake was. The mistake was permanently transferring into an avatar just to be with you! There’s no telling what you were doing while I wasn’t here and I regret ever even knowing you.” You shoot him a cold glare as you see the heartbreak cloud his face. “Y/n… you don’t mean that. Don’t say that, just come on. Let me-“ he protests as he tries once again to grab you, but you back up before shaking your head quickly.

“You didn’t even deny being with other girls while I was still human… I thought you loved me, I thought you were my mate, that we would be together forever and build a family together. I did this so we could bond properly, I have no one here except for you and your family. I gave all of myself to you and you continue to pretend that I don’t exist. I just can’t do this anymore Lo’ak. We are done.” You spit at him before you turn around and begin walking off to prevent him from seeing the tears that have begun treading down your hot face.

About 2 months have gone by since you and Lo’ak have broken up and you’ve not sure how you are even surviving at this point. You’ve realized just how much time you guys have spent together since you’ve met, never really parting from each other for too long. After all of the years that you two have spent together, walking past each other as if you don’t know who the other is has to be the hardest part of it all. You’ve left your family and friends on earth, making his family, friends and everyone in the lab the only people that you have left, but it’s just not the same as having him. As hard as it has been without him, you know that going back would be pointless because he’s just going to do the same thing as before.

Who am I kidding? You think to yourself as you scoff aloud. He's probably already in another relationship with someone else right now. You walk through the forest, searching for Kiri since you don’t really feel like being all alone. Today would’ve been you and Lo’ak’s 6 month anniversary and people always say time heals all wounds. To you, it quite literally felt like the opposite since you have been dealing with all of the other anniversaries all alone, but it seems that the further out you guys would’ve been together, the worst you feel.

“Kiri!” You yell out as you finally find her in the middle of the forest, playing with the leaves that light up. “Y/n! Where have you been? I have not been able to find you all day.” She says as she gets up and runs into your arms, embracing you with a tight, warm hug. Ever since you’ve gotten here, way before you became an avatar, Kiri has also become one of your best friends, especially considering that she was nearly your family before Lo’ak messed that up.

“I’ve just been walking around. I’ve had a lot on my mind today, you know.” You say as you both begin to walk together. “It’s you guys' 6 month anniversary isn’t it?” She asks and you give her a look of confusion as to how she would remember it when she didn’t even know what day you guys had made it official. “Lo’ak was telling me and Neteyam about it earlier this morning before he and Neteyam went off to training.” She confesses to you and your heart drops at the fact that he even remembered.

“I see.” Your head falls down as you think of how you guys could’ve spent this day together had he not been such a fucking cheater. “He is really broken up still about you guys. Father gets so upset with him because he hasn’t been paying attention during training. We hear about it every single night after they return by father yelling at him.” She says as she rolls her eyes.

“Well that isn’t my fault nor my problem. He’s the reason why we aren’t together anymore, he just couldn’t get himself together and it wasn’t that hard. I have no sympathy for him.” You speak in a low tone, causing her to giggle at your aggression towards him. “He won’t stop talking about how sorry he is and how much he regrets it. It is actually quite pitiful. I asked him why he won’t just tell you that instead of us, he says it is because you won’t hear it.” She says and you let out a small chuckle as you nod your head.

“I gave him plenty of chances Kiri. I excused him the first 4 times that he consecutively cheated on me. I have nothing left in me anymore to give to him. I gave it all away and he just keeps hurting me.” You feel the tears begin to come up while you try your hardest to swallow them back down, but you fail miserably. Kiri glances over to you as she sees the tears begin to flow and she stops, turning you towards her as she wipes the tears off of your heated face.

“Hey, don’t cry. I know what he did was wrong and so does he. Neteyam scolded him for it because he knows how good of a girl you are. You are amazing and we all see it. You know what will cheer you up?” She asks you and you shake your head, looking into her eyes for the answer. You wanted anything to get rid of this dreadful, empty feeling forming deep inside of you. “Let’s go to the lab and see what those skxawngs are up to, hm?” She says, you smile as you nod your head. She grabs your hand and begins walking towards the lab.

You walk into the lab, grabbing masks, wrapping them around your necks as you both inhale deeply in sync before dropping them down to hang around your necks. “Y/n, Kiri. What are you guys up to?” Norm asks as you come and sit next to him while he scrolls on the computer. “Trying to cheer my y/n up. She is feeling a little down today.” Kiri tells him as he looks at you. “It’s the anniversary isn’t it?” He asks you with a sympathetic look, you feel your eyes automatically rolling as you realize. “Let me guess. Lo’ak has told you too, hasn’t he?” You ask him and he laughs a little before looking back at his computer. “He came in yesterday, super upset about it and talking about-“

“How much he regrets it and he wishes he could apologize.” You cut him off to finish his sentence off for him, already knowing exactly what he’s going to say as you watch him nod his head as he chuckles. “You know, if he’s this torn up about it, then why won’t he just tell me about it directly?” You ask as you shake your head in frustration. Norm’s eyes land on you then towards the door as his eyes widen. “Well he might be able to.” He says as you look in the direction that he is looking and spot Lo’ak standing there, his eyes burning holes into your back before you turned around.

“Hi y/n.” He mumbles out as he stands in the doorway as if his feet are stuck in one place. “No.” You mumble as you quickly get up and try to walk away, but he gets in front of you, making you hiss at him. “Just wait. I heard what you said. You said that if I was really that torn up about it, then why wouldn’t I just tell you directly? But you have to give me that chance to do it. Please? All I need is a few minutes.” He begs of you and you roll your eyes.

“Norm? Would you be so kind to set a timer on your phone for 10 minutes?” You ask him as you quickly look back at him, your hair swinging with your movement, hitting Lo’ak in his chest. “Uh.. Done!” He shouts back at you with a thumbs up after setting the timer on his phone and you nod your head before looking back at Lo’ak. “You have 10 minutes, and I’m being generous with that. Come.” You say as you walk towards the door of the lab while he trudges behind you thinking of the perfect words to say. You both walk out of the lab and deeper into the forest before you suddenly come to a stop and stand in front of him. “What do you have to say?” You ask as you fold your arms.

“I-I’m sorry for what I have done. I love you so much more than I thought was possible. It’s been so hard without you and this sucks. I realize what I’m doing wrong and I know that I have hurt you. No, I can’t take it back, but I can promise to do better and cut out the things that hurt you. I can promise to be good for you and to you. I can be the mate that you want out of me. I see that you have completely changed your life for me, you’ve become one of us just for me and I am so thankful for that. I want to show you the right way that I appreciate you and just how happy you make me.”

You feel hot tears forming in your eyes at his words, oh how you wish they were real. “Look, I know it’s hard to believe coming from me right now and I accept that, but just give me one more chance please.” He confesses to you and you look down at the ground, wanting to scream at him. Wanting to tell him how much you hate him, wanting to tell him how much you’ve needed him, how lonely you’ve been without him by your side, but you hold it all in.

“No Lo’ak. It’s-it’s just not that easy. As much as I want to forgive you, as much as I want you to do right for me. I just can’t believe you because you’re telling me you’ll change. I can’t take anymore heartbreaks, it’s tearing me apart.” A tear falls down down your cheek, triggering him to step closer to you. You back up as you look at him, watching his eyes become glossy before you stop and let him continue to step towards you.

“Please y/n. I know it’s hard. I’m trying so hard to tell you how much I love you and if you’ll just give me another chance, I can show you. No more cheating, no more playing games, no more breaking your heart. I just want to make up for what I’ve done so please just let me do that. I’m begging you. What can I do to show you that I’m serious?” He asks you as he places his hands on both sides of my face and more tears begin to stream down your face as you shake your head, not having an answer for him. “How about I show you tonight?” He asks you and you look into his yellow eyes, silently questioning his words.

“Let me make it special. This is not the way that I want to ask you to forgive me so please let me show you tonight. Meet me at the spirit tree right as eclipse falls.” You slowly nod your head, not sure of why you’re even agreeing after you said you were done. “Ok I’ll see you then. I promise I’ll make it right.” He says before he gently rubs your face one last time before letting go of it and walking off, leaving your cheeks to feel as cold as ice without his warm touch.

You place a purple flower in your hair before readjusting your purple loincloth that matches the flower in your hair. You walk out of your hut, looking into the sky to see the moon that just began to appear in the sky. You let out a small sigh before you begin to walk in the direction of the spirit tree. You question why you agreed to such a stupid thing, why you won’t just turn back around and not even show up, but your feet deceive your mind as you continue to walk towards the spirit tree. You said that you wouldn’t go back, that you were done, so why are you even giving him a chance to explain?

I’m so stupid, I know, but I love him so much. It’s so hard to walk away from him. But I have to and I have to tell him that tonight. That I truly meant what I said and that I am done for good. I have to move on and find someone who is good for me, who loves me and who dares not to treat me like an option. You think to yourself as you get closer and closer to your destination.

You approach the spirit tree and your mouth drops at the beauty of it. You’ve only been to the spirit tree once and that was to transfer your soul into your avatar body, so this is your first time truly observing it in its true beauty. You look down and see Lo’ak standing up as he begins to walk towards you as you come to a stop, waiting for him to meet you.

“Wow. You look… beautiful. I’ve never seen you in purple, it makes your skin glow.” He says as he comes inches away from you and you feel yourself smile as you look at the ground, your cheeks burning and your heart skipping a beat. “Thank you.” To both of your surprises, you accept the compliment as you retract your eyes back to him and you feel him grab your hand. “Come.” He says as he walks you to the spirit tree.

“It’s beautiful.” You say to him as you walk around the tree, paying attention to every small detail about it. “This is where we come to connect to our ancestors and the souls of those who have passed away. It’s a sacred place.” He informs you as you turn around and look at him. “Why did you bring me here?” You question his motives as you slowly sway towards him. “Since this is the most sacred place on pandora, I wanted to bring you here for something very sacred if you would allow me.” You raise your eyebrows at his response as you watch him grab his queue and bring it in front of him.

“Before I messed everything up, I know that you wanted to make tsaheylu (bond) and I know that you might not want to anymore, but if you do then I am more than happy to do it. I promise to never hurt you again, I promise to always put your needs first. I promise to be the mate that you always wanted and I’ll do anything to make you happy. In these 2 months, I realize how hard it is being without you and I never want to experience this again. I love you, Y/n. Please forgive me?” Desperation clouding his voice as he stares into your eyes, looking for the forgiveness that he’s asking for. “I-“ You try to speak, but you feel the tears coming as you watch him watch you, his eyes quickly pacing back and forth.

“I-I can’t-” You don’t finish your sentence as you watch him drop his queue in defeat, his head dropping as well. You step closer to him and look at him as he looks into your eyes. “I can’t be without you Lo’ak. I have tried in these 2 months, and it’s been the hardest thing that I have ever done. I don’t want to be without you Lo’ak, but I don’t want to be hurt anymore. All I’ve ever wanted was you from the moment that I met you. It will take a lot.. but I’m willing to work on us and build together. I can’t say that I forgive you right now Lo’ak, but I want you to prove to me that I am all that you want so that I can forgive you. So that we can move on.” You say back to him as you reach behind you, grabbing your queue and placing it in between you guys, causing him to smile and grab his once again.

He grabs your hand and pulls you down to sit right across from each other as you slowly bring your queues closer until they finally connect. You feel your body jolt as your eyes flutter shut, a sensation running through your body as you see all of the memories that Lo’ak has, all of the thoughts that he has about you. Love, adoration, your children to come, the bond that will grow stronger for you two. Your strong partnership and friendship that you’ve both taken the time to build over the years. You slowly open your eyes at the same time as him, a smile creasing your soft lips. “Lo’ak. Nga yawne lu oer (I love you). You say as you reach up and touch his face softly. “Nga yawne lu oer, öeya yawntu.” He says back to you as he leans in and kisses you.

The kiss is slow and soft at first, but it quickly speeds up as you both become hungry for more of each other. He pulls back from the kiss and looks into your eyes before standing up and holding his hand out for you to take it. He stands you up, immediately picking you up bridal style as he looks at you and smiles. “Let’s go back to your hut, my love.” He says and you nod your head as you lay down on his chest while wrapping your arms around his neck.

He walks back to your hut with you in his arms, laying you on your cot before getting in between your legs, accidentally bumping your queues and causing them to disconnect. A groan escapes your lips at the loss of feeling and he chuckles. “I know, baby. But you’re about to feel something else.” He flashes a smirk at you and you laugh before rolling your eyes. He leans back in and kisses you once again, easily slipping his tongue in your mouth as he softly strokes your hair. He breaks the kiss and begins to kiss down your neck as you breathe out.

“Lo..” you moan and he hums in response. “I’ve never done this before. Not as a human either.” You confess to him and he comes back up to look into your eyes. “Duh. I could’ve told you that, yawne. I’ll be gentle and careful, if you want me to stop, just tell me ok?” He says and you nod your head before he begins to kiss you again. You feel his hand stroll down your body, your skin feels on fire everywhere that he touches, until he reaches your clothed pussy. He softly rubs his fingers in circles and you moan into his mouth at the feeling.

“Is it ok if I take this off? I have to get you ready before I do anything else.” He asks for your permission and you nod your head in agreement as you feel the heat increasing between your legs. He unties the string to your loincloth, you both watch as it falls off of your waist and you lift up for him to pull it the rest of the way off before he tosses it next to your cot, on the ground. He crouches down in between your legs as he opens them a little wider and begins to rub circles around your clit with his thumb, your back arching off of your cot as your mouth hangs open. He stops his movement, bringing two of his fingers to your lips while he kisses your thighs before speaking.

“Suck.” He commands and you obey as you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him to slip his fingers into your mouth and you suck them as your eyes bore into his beautiful golden yellow eyes. “Good girl.” He says as he takes his fingers out of your mouth and brings them back down in between your legs. “This might sting a little bit, but it’s getting you ready. If it is too much, tell me to stop.” He says and you nod your head in agreeance as you feel his fingers enter you, causing you to push your legs closer together from the discomfort, but your body relaxes more as you look down to find him staring at you with love in his eyes, your legs slowly relaxing and falling back down.

He continues to push them inside of you until they are completely in. He moves his fingers in and out slowly and you moan out as you feel your own lubrication consuming his fingers. “Lo’ak.. t-that feels really good.” You moan out, gripping the sides of the cot. He keeps going for a little bit longer as you hear how wet you are, that being the only noise in the room. “I-I think I’m going to..” your words are abruptly interrupted when the feeling goes away as he pulls his fingers out of you, earning a groan from you. “Why did you stop, you idiot?!” You yell out as he sits up, smirking and taking his fingers into his mouth before moaning. “I’ve got you exactly where I want you. And you taste good.” A moan escaping your throat as you feel yourself throbbing around nothing while he unties his own loincloth and throws it on top of yours.

His long dick springs out, hitting his stomach, your eyes widening at the sight. “Oh Lo‘ak, I don’t know if I can take that.” You protest as you back up a little bit, but he pulls you back down by your thighs. “You can take it my love. I’ll go slow and if it’s too much, I’ll stop.” He reassures you as he places his hand above your head and lines himself up with your entrance. “Like I said with my fingers, this is going to hurt at first, but it is going to feel really good once you get past that ok? Just trust me. I’m gonna make you feel good, I promise.” He says as he kisses you one more time before slowly pushing himself into you.

You yell out as your hand flies up to his lower torso, looking down to see that only half of it is completely in. He stops pushing himself in to give you a break as he grabs your hand as he brings it up to his lips to kiss the back of it before intertwining your fingers together. “You’re doing so good, my love. Just a little bit more left ok? The pain will be over soon.” He says as he pushes a little bit further while your back arches off of the cot once again, groaning in pain.

“I’m all the way in. Tell me when you want me to move.” He says planting soft kisses all over your face, leading to your neck where he softly sucks and bites at the sensitive skin. “Move Lo.. please.” You give him permission to move and he nods his head as he pulls out of you halfway, earning moans from both of you as he pushes himself all the way back in.

“Mmm.” You moan out, causing him to look at you and smile. “Did that feel good?” He asks you. “Yes. Keep going please.” You say to him, your hand gently caressing his face. He continues his slow pace making you a moaning mess underneath him. “Lo’ak.. go a little bit faster.” You bat your eyes at him while you wrap your legs around his waist. He speeds up his pace as he groans into your neck. “You feel so fucking good around me. I love watching you go crazy over my Dick, wanting and needing more.” He growls in your ear as he places his hand on your waist before slamming you down on him, you buck your hips as you scream out, knowing that your voice will be gone by tomorrow. He looks into your eyes before licking his lips.

“When do you want to start a family?” He asks you while you pant out of control. “Now… R-Right now.” You manage to breathe out in between pants, tilting your head back while your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head. “Are you sure, my love?” You simply nod your head, not able to form full sentences. “Look at me.” He demands, you tilt your head back to look at him while he moans softly.

“Whose pussy is this? Hm?” His thrusts get harder with each word that escapes his lips. “It’s yours.” You pant out softly, barely audible. “I can’t hear you princess. I said, whose. Pussy. Is. This?” He repeats his question once again, your hips smacking together forcefully with every word. Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably as you let out a high pitched moan each time. “I said it’s your Lo’ak! It’s all yours, every part of me belongs to you!” You scream out as you hear him chuckle. “Good girl. I'm not pulling out of you. I’m going to fill you up with my cum.” He says as he grabs your weak hand and places it on your lower stomach.

“I’m going to fill you up right here and give you my child.” You can barely keep your head up and your eyes open as you feel yourself coming closer just off of his words. “I-I’m going to cum Lo’ak.” You tell him as you feel your body shaking. “So am I, princess. Wait, don’t cum yet.” He says as he grabs his queue once again, you observe him and lift up a little to grab yours as well. “This will make it feel a lot more intense.”

You connect your queues to each other and moan in unison as the feeling intensifies. “Now. Let go for me baby. Cum all over my dick.” You feel your body letting go at his words, your fingernails scratching at his toned stomach while your orgasm washes over you. You feel him stop his movement as he groans and curses while he throws his head back, cumming inside of you as you feel his hard dick throbbing. You both breathe out heavily as you finish riding out your highs and attempting to catch your breath.

Lo’ak looks back down to you, a proud smile plastered on his face as you smile with him before he leans down once again to kiss you. He slowly pulls out of you, causing you both to inhale sharply at the feeling. Your queues are still connected to each other as he lazily plops down next to you. You turn around to face him as you lean in and give him a soft peck on his lips before speaking.

“We’re mated Lo’ak.” You say, excitement exerting your tone as you rub his face and he laughs. “We are mated and you might have a little surprise in a few weeks. I just gave you three of the best gifts in one night. I’m amazing, aren’t I?” He brags on himself as he places his hand on your stomach and rubs it softly, earning a laugh from you while you roll your eyes.

“I promise to be different for you and for our family. I am so sorry that I didn’t realize just how amazing you were before I lost you. I love you more than anything that I thought could ever be possible.” He once again confesses his love for you before he brings his lips to yours and you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him in closer to you.

You give his forehead a kiss before you flip over and lay facing the opposite direction of him, backing yourself completely up against his warm body as you feel yourself getting sleepy. His long arm reaches over your body, landing around your waist as he pulls you even closer until your bodies are completely embezzled together. He peaks to look at your face one more time before he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. “I can’t believe my dick put you to sleep.” He says as he laughs and you roll your heavy eyes. “Shut up and let’s go to bed, skxawng!” You say to him as he laughs, as you both lay cuddled up together, drifting off to sleep in each other's arms.

A/N: Lo’ak being a simp is literally so adorable to me 😭 anywho, I hope you guys loves it!!! 💖 if you guys have any requests, don’t be afraid to let me know and I would be more than happy to do them!

[lovingperfectionsblog]

Fix it.

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x reader

Summary: Hangman offers to help Bob with a crush he has on the Hard Decks barmaid. 

Warnings: Swearing, degradation of women, use of the term slut, mentions of sex, degradation during sex, mild mention of wanting to crash a plane, misogyny, inaccuracies about women and daddy issues, throwing a drink in someone's face, the term bumping uglies is used and I feel like that should be a warning.  

Word Count: 4003

Author's note: So, this is the first time I have ever written for Top Gun, I know nothing about the military, so please forgive me. But, here it is, and I hope you all like it. Also, I obviously do not believe the nonsense about women and daddy issues or any of the other degrading things said about women, It is all to further the story. Please remember to be kind. And remember, do not tolerate, let alone fall for, anyone who degrades you! 

____

“So, tell me little Bobby Boy”, the chair squeaked across the linoleum floor as Hangman turned it around, taking a seat across from Phoenix and Bob, who were clearly engaged in a private conversation, “were my eyes deceiving me or were you blushing when you were talking to Penny’s new pretty little barmaid?” Neither the scowl on Phoenix’s face nor the blush on Bob’s could be prevented, and these both deepened the smirk on Hangmans. 

“What’s it to you Bagman?” There were very specific moments Bob was thankful for Phoenix, and intercepting hangman when they all knew he was about to get too much was one of them. The ever deepening crush on ‘Penny's new pretty little barmaid’ was something Bob was hoping to just, kind of, get through. He was well aware that this was something that was never going to happen and he needed it to blow over, now. 

So Phoenix sitting here quietly trying to encourage him to ask for your number was not helping squash any and all hope he had that he MIGHT get the courage to ask, but now he also had Bagman asking questions on top of it? What happened to the days where no one noticed him?

“Well, you see, I myself had my eyes on her, but the second I saw Baby On Board over here looking redder than Rooster after a game of DogFight, I knew I had to do my good deed of the week and help my man out over here.” Phoenix felt her annoyance rise the longer she stared at that godforsaken toothpick hanging out of his mouth. Bobby didn’t need help, not from Hangman at least. 

“I’ve got it, but thanks Bagman” Phoenix twisted in her chair, fully facing Bob’s side profile now, the man in question focusing on a spot on the table in front of him, hoping they’d forget he was even there at this point while he tried to get his own blushing under control. 

“Ah! So he does have a crush on her!” Hangman's voice carried across the room causing the other Daggers to start paying more attention to what was happening in the once seemingly quiet corner of the room. 

“Who has a crush on who now?” Rooster made his way over, mimicking Hangman as he took the chair next to him and spun it round, heaving himself into it as he waited for an explanation. Coyote, Fanboy and Payback all sauntered after him, the entire table now surrounded, Bob’s head dropping even lower, eyes scrunched shut, refusing to push his glasses further up his nose from where they had begun slipping down in fear of moving and drawing attention to himself. 

“Bob has a crush on the new barmaid” Hangmans gaze hadn’t left Phoenix’s glaring eyes and that shit eating grin had yet to leave his face. 

“Oh shit! No wonder he was so willing to get the drinks Friday night then.” a large hand came down on the table in front of them, the loud noise causing Bob to jump, a bewildered (and very red looking face) turning to Phoenix, a silent plea to get them out of this situation. 

“Well, yes, but we don’t need-” Phoenix tried, she really did, but when these men got in on information like this, it was hard to get them out of it again. 

“So, when are you making your move?” Fanboys' question was innocent enough, but considering he was one of the few pilots that knew Bob a little better than the rest, just after Phoenix, it was a fairly dumb question and the alarmed look on Bob's face was indication enough of that. 

And if the look on Bob’s face wasn’t enough, the look of exasperation on Phoenix’s was. 

“We were working on getting Bob to that point before Hangman over here,” an accusatory finger was thrown in the offender's direction, “interrupted me”. 

“And here I was to extend a helping hand. It’s kind of seeming like you aren’t all that appreciative of that help here Bobby Boy” the entire table, other than Phoenix (again, thank you Phoenix), was now staring directly at Bob. 

“That’s a little rude of you Bob” Cyotes voice could be heard behind him. 

Roosters popping up next, “Yeah Bob, the man’s just trying to help.” 

“Since when are you siding with Bagman of all people!” Phoenix couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How had all of these men, who seemingly couldn't stand Hangman, suddenly be siding with him. 

“Since he knows how to work women. The least Bob could do would be to hear him out.” Payback tried to offer a voice of reason, knowing that when it came to Phoenix and Hangman though, it was probably falling on deaf ears. 

“Work women! Are you hearing yourself?” She needed to get Bob out of here quickly. 

“Listen, he has a point. Just, the goal is to get Bob and this girl together-” Rooster began before Phoenix interrupted him. 

“No, the goal is to get him to have courage to ask for her number.” 

“You’re thinking too small. Bobby’s a good looking guy, we can get him laid.” Bobs head shot up, wide eyes meeting Hangman’s own, more relaxed face, which was now looking directly at him, “So, what do you say? Want big ol’ Hangman's help to get you laid?” 

“I don’t, it’s not really like that.” Bob muttered out weakly. I mean, yes, the thought of potentially bedding you was definitely something he didn’t want to discount, but it was more than that. 

He wanted to date you. He wanted to ask for your number and talk to you for two weeks to a month over the phone and at the Hard Deck and then he wanted to ask you on a real date. And then he wanted to go on more dates and he wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend and then well, if in any of that you thought he deserved it, yeah, he wanted to bed you. If he ever got the courage to do any of that, but that’s what he wanted. That was the game plan. 

“Of course it’s like that. Do you or do you not want to bump uglies?” The round of ew’s did nothing to deter Hangman from the question. 

“I, well, of course I want to bed her.” Bob couldn't help but beg for the ground beneath him to open up and so he could just fall into it, but Bob also knew that he rarely got so lucky. 

“Bed her?” 

“He means ‘fuck’ Bagman” 

“Ah, thank you Rooster. But also, bed her? Seriously? Even bump uglies sounds better than that.” Hangman knew he was just getting a rise out of Bob at this point, the kick beneath the table directly into his shin from Phoenix a sharp warning to drop it, “Regardless, you’ve got our help there friend. Don’t you worry, I’ll have her eating out of your hand by the end of the night, that is a guaranteed promise.”

“Bob, listen, this is a bad idea. This is Hangman for gods sake, do you honestly think this is going to go well?” Phoenix was trying her best to dissuade him from agreeing to Hangmans help. 

Bob swung his gaze between the two pilots, completely unsure of what to do. On one hand, Hangman did kind of know what he was doing when it came to women. He was frequently leaving the Hard Deck with them to get up to what Bob can only assume was some pretty disgusting activities, but on the other hand, Phoenix was completely right, this was Hangman they were talking about, one of the most cocky and degrading men any of them had ever known. 

But he needed to make a call, and desperate times call for desperate measures, and Lord knows Bob was desperate for you to notice him.  

“What do I need to do?” It was almost a whisper directed at Hangman followed by a groan from Phoenix and a round of cheers from the others. 

“Bobby, you will not regret this, I promise you, and honestly, I’m willing to start your lessons on women right here, right now.” He swung towards Phoenix, his smile so wide Phoenix had to do everything physically possible not to wipe it off with her fist. 

“The most important thing you need to remember when it comes to women,” Hangman was now looking back at Bob, who was leaning forward, attentive as always, praying this would be the lifeline he needed when it came to you, “they love what they think they can’t have and they LOVE it when you call them a slut.” The sound of Hangman and Coyotes hands meeting in a high-five was heard, shortly followed by a chair being shoved away from the desk they were currently sitting at as Phoenix rose to her feet. 

“Jesus, Bob, don’t you dare come crawling to me when this goes balls up.” With one final scowl directed at hangman she was leaving the group of men, a last middle finger thrown up as a “Bye Phoenix” was shouted after her from the cockiest pilot known to man, deciding to leave whatever this mess was alone for good. 

_____

“So you decided to come anyway?” Rooster asked as Phoenix settled next to him, watching the pool game happening between Fanboy and Payback, both pilots taking a sip of their individual beers.

“Came to see the shit show.” Her eyes landed on Bob and Hangman in the corner. The latter vividly talking as if he was instructing a boxer in the corner of the ring before their next round. 

“I know you have your doubts, but Hangman can actually be a good man. He isn’t trying to hurt Bob, he’s just trying to help as best as he knows how.” Rooster just shrugged as Phoenix let out a sigh, both knowing what he had just said was completely true. 

“I know, but God, saying women like to be called a slut?” she threw Rooster a disapproving look, concerned at the smile on her friends face. 

“He explained it to Bob after you left. He meant it purely from a sex perspective. Like, you know when you’re going at it and you say ‘such a good little slut, just for me’ kind of vibe? None of us actually think women are sluts, especially not the ones willing to sleep with us. Honestly, we’re all just really thankful they are willing to even sleep with us.” Rooster tried to placate Phoenix. 

“Even Hangman?” She wasn’t going to stop until he had been knocked down a peg or two. 

“You didn’t hear it from me, but especially Bagman. He speaks like that to get a rise out of you, but honestly, he’s actually terrifyingly respectful. I'm pretty sure he even hates calling women anything degrading in bed. I think he’d prefer to be called something gross and degrading now that I think about it.” Rooster could only shrug at the alarmed look Phoenix had given him at the new i information he had casually dropped on her, “You know that bullshit that women with daddy issues like to be degraded? Well, I never met anyone with bigger daddy issues than Bagman over there, and that’s coming from me.” A knowing look following the statement.

Phoenix couldn't find a surface to place her beer fast enough before she was letting out a full belly laugh at what Rooster had just told her, her drink spilling all over her hand as she tried to picture Hangman of all people begging a woman to call him her pretty little slut. She hated that Rooster made sense, but yeah, it fit. Suddenly she felt like she understood Hangman just that much better. 

Suddenly Coyote was rushing into the little section the dagger squad had carved out for themselves, “Shut up! She’s coming! Act natural!”

“We can shut up or we can act natural, you gotta choose here bud” Hangman was the first to address the confusion caused by their friend, “Bob, it’s your time to shine, here she comes”, a final clap on the back and Hangman was making his way over to Rooster and Phoenix to watch how well his own little protege did trying to pick up you up. 

As Bob watched you walk over with their drinks all neatly lined up on a tray, he tried to calm himself down, replaying all the lessons Hangman had taught him in his mind, reminding himself he could actually do this. 

This was all just to get your attention. 

You just needed to know he existed. 

Women like what they can't have. 

Women liked being called a slut. 

Yes, that was it. That's what Hangman had said. 

Why was he so sweaty? 

Women like what they can't have. 

Women liked being called a slut. 

“You look like a slut.” 

A silence descended over the entire area. All eyes, wide, now focusing on Bob. Music was the only thing that could be heard between any of them. No one is willing to move out of fear alone. 

Although to him, all he could hear was his own blood pounding in his ears, nerves fully taking over. But he did it and now he was just waiting for you to fall at his feet, at least, that's what Hangman told him would happen. 

Although this, this felt wrong. He had messed up. He knew he had messed up somehow, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough for him to figure it out. 

“Excuse me?” You were the first to speak up after Bob’s faux pas. 

“Oh, I said, you look like a slut.” From there, the entire group watched events unfold in slow motion. 

“No Bob! It’s -” Before Hangman could interject, you’d already thrown a drink over him. Bob covered head to toe in someone's beer, “rhetorical.” 

“Get out Bobby Floyd!” Your look was icy, finger pointed towards the Hard Decks doors. 

“Yes Ma’am.” Bob knew better than to argue with you. He immediately got up, head down, tail between his legs and made his way to the doors, praying he could get out of there as quickly as possible, making promises that he’d never step foot into the Hard Deck again, mentally figuring out how to crash his plane tomorrow.  

Hangman could feel Phoenix seething next to him, against his better judgment he turned to look at her only to find her already staring holes into him, “You have 24 hours to fix it Hangman, before I shoot you out of the sky myself,” and with that she was gone, following Bob outside, but not before she was profusely apologizing to you, promising that this was not Bob.  

_____

Bob isn’t sure how Phoenix had convinced him to come to the Hard Deck tonight, but here he was outside its doors, breathing deeply as he tried to convince himself to step inside. 

And if he happened to see you, well, the written out three page apology was ready. He had no shame in groveling if it got you to forgive him. 

One last deep breath and he made his way in, beelining for the pool table where he knew Phoenix was waiting for him. He couldn’t give a damn about anyone else there, actively making the choice to ignore every single one of them. He knew technically it wasn’t their fault, it was him, he was the one who had messed it up, but this felt right. 

And if he had gotten an extra confidence boost from telling Bagman to fuck off the next day at work in front everyone, well, that was no one else’s business but his. 

The air was awkward, everyone could feel it, everyone was being extra nice to him and despite him being polite, he was still avoiding actually entertaining conversation with anyone else except Phoenix, until “Hey Bob, you need a drink, go get one.” He glared at Hangman, the other pilot only shrugging his shoulders, nudging his head in the direction of the bar. 

“Go, I know you don’t trust him, but trust me, go get your drink.” It was Phoenix, giving him a slight push off his stool. As he made his way to the bar, already getting his apology pages out of his pocket, he noticed the entire dagger squad quietly watching him make his way over. He felt bitter, but he knew that he had to do this. He was ready to beg. 

“Bob,” it was Penny leaning over the bar, lemonade in hand, a smirk firmly plastered on her face as she handed it over to him, “I think you owe this bar a round of drinks considering last week's indiscretion.” 

“Ma’am, a round of drinks for the bar is probably the least I could do considering what I did,” Bob ran a hand over his face as Penny cackled, making her way over to the bell, its humiliating ring sounding throughout the bar, all the patrons giving a loud cheer as the prospect of a free drink from a stranger who had somehow wronged the bar owner. 

“Who fucked up this time Pen?” Your voice sounded out as you made your way back around the bar from the kitchen, clearly not having noticed Bob yet, but when you did, a smile a mile wide graced your face and Bob felt both humiliated and blessed all at once, “Ah, I assume this is penance for his sins of last week?” You and Penny shared a knowing look, and Bob wished he was in on the joke instead of the butt of it. 

“And he will be paying for it.” Penny let out one more laugh as she slapped the top of her bar and gave a quick look around at how full her bar was this evening, knowing this was going to take a hefty chunk out of Bob's money, throwing Bob a wink as she left you two to talk. 

“I’m sorry.” Bob wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. He had felt awful all week and he needed to make amends and find out how he could fix this as soon as he could. 

“Why on earth would you get Hangman to help you get  a girl's number?” Bob froze, you knew. You knew he had needed someone else's help to try and flirt with you. He might not have crashed his plane last week, but tomorrow, it was definitely happening tomorrow. 

“I will regret doing that until the day I die.” Bob groaned out as you watched him squirm in front of you, a laugh leaving you once again at his misery, “He is possibly the worst person I have ever met in my entire life.” 

“Hey, he’s not that bad, considering the groveling he did this week and all.” You shrugged as you continued to wipe down the bar in front of you. 

“What groveling?” Bob hadn’t heard anything about Hangman groveling, but when he threw a look towards his fellow aviators, the shy smile on all their faces, Hangmans in particular, showed that maybe they had been in his corner all along, even if he had messed up as badly as he did. 

“Well, after you told me I looked like a slut,” Bob felt the humiliation flood him again, “Hangman profusely apologized and the lot of them had explained that you may have a crush on me and were just super nervous to ask for my number, so he had offered to coach you and that you may have gotten just a little nervous and duffed it a little bit.” 

“That may have been exactly what happened.” Bob chanced a look at you, the soft smile you sported gave him hope that maybe you weren’t all that mad with him after Hangman had pulled his weight to remedy the situation, “And I think duffed it a little bit is the understatement of the century.” 

“Oh Bobby Floyd, I was just trying to be polite, but you completely fucked it. Didn’t anyone tell you that you only call a girl a slut while you’re busy rawing her from behind?” If Bob didn’t already look like a loser in front of you, him choking on his spit and face going even redder than it already was at the thought of ‘rawing you’ did not do him any favors. 

“Ma’am, I will never call a woman a slut, ever again, under any circumstances, I can promise you that.” Bob had made this promise the second he had said the word to you last week, but this just solidified it to him. 

“Oh, well, that’s a bit of a pity, I was kind of hoping after our third date, you might be willing to while you bed me.” Bob was sure his heart stopped. 

“Date?” It was all he could get out. If he didn’t want to make more of a fool of himself, this was all he was willing to get out. 

“Yeah, the date Hangman offered to pay for, after that first one though, it’s on us.” You were enamored with the look of wonder on his face as you told him you’d be going on a date with him. 

“You’re seriously willing to go on a date with me after everything?” In lieu of an answer, you instead just glanced down to the napkin Bob hadn’t even seen you place in front of him, your name and number scrawled on it, all nice and neat just for him, “I promise it will be the best and most expensive date you ever go on.” The look of absolute shock never leaving his fae=ce as he immediately pocketed your number, not willing to jinx anything more. 

“Oh I bank on it being the most expensive date we ever go on, I mean, it’s the least we can do to thank Hangman for his lesson.” With that you swung your cloth over your shoulder, “I look forward to your call Bobby Floyd.” and with one last wink you were making your way to the other side of the bar to help Penny with the ever increasing amount of patrons swamping the bar for a free drink. 

As Bob stood there with possibly the biggest smile on his face, he felt a nudge to his shoulder, seeing his Captain with a small smile of his own, “Mav”, he greeted with a nod of his head, receiving one in return, embarrassed that his superior had to hear all that. 

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop Bob, but did she just use the term ‘bed you’ when telling you she hoped you’d call her a slut while you sleep with her?” Mav didn’t really care what term she used, in truth, he was just sure Bob hadn’t even really registered she’d said it at all, and honestly, he was rooting for Bob, he wanted him to know that he hadn’t completely fumbled the bag when it came to you. 

“Bed me?” Bob hadn’t even fully registered what Mav had said before he heard Rooster behind him. 

“He means ‘fuck’ Bob” 

And for the second time, Rooster had to watch Bob end up with a drink all over him at the Hard Deck, this time though it was infinitely funnier as he watched Bob spill his own lemonade all over himself in shock. 

“Did she see that?” Bob’s eyes were closed, refusing to look at you. 

“She definitely saw that” Rooster couldn’t lie, flashing a smile to you as he turned Bob away, “Go, run,” shoving Bob back in the direction of their friends, but Bob couldn’t even find himself to be embarrassed this time as he pulled your number out the closer he got, waving it like a flag as all his friends cheered him on, dripping, covered in lemonade and with your number clutched in his hand. 

[miffy-junot]

Do we know what sort of relationship Junot had with his family, e.g. his parents? Did anyone try to support him during his mental decline at all?

There’s not a lot of information, but here’s what I know (I will refer to Junot as Andoche here to distinguish him from the other Junot family members):

Mother (Marie-Antoinette Junot): like most families of this era, the mother was closer to the children than the father was. Andoche absolutely adored his mother, and when he was governor of Paris she lived with him and Laure at their country home. Unfortunately she died from an illness in 1806, and Junot was heartbroken.

Father (Michel Junot): this one is a bit more of a complicated relationship. Andoche loved his father, but didn’t always agree with him. Michel wanted Andoche to be a lawyer but he quit law school to join the army, I can’t imagine that went down well. Michel was disappointed when Andoche and Laure’s first two children were girls (Napoleon expressed similar feelings too btw), although Andoche didn’t care much about the gender of his children. Overall they did love each other, but Andoche went down a very different path to the traditional bourgeois one that his father wanted him to follow. In 1813 Andoche was sent to live with Michel, however this was decided by the French authorities rather than the Junot family and understandably Michel was not equipped to look after his severely unwell son (who, by that point in time, was suffering from such bad brain damage and inflammation that he was mentally and physically disabled). I think Michel tried his best, but he was unable to prevent Andoche’s suicide.

Brother (Guy-Claude Junot): Guy-Claude and Andoche were very different characters who went very different routes in life and understandably were not that close. However Guy-Claude did come with Andoche to Egypt, and was with him in Montbard when he died.

Four older sisters: Two of the Junot sisters died as children, but the other two survived until adulthood and were also with Andoche in Montbard at the end of his life. Apart from that, very little is known about his relationships with his sisters.

(Btw it’s important to know that, apart from his mother moving to Paris, Andoche’s family stayed in Burgundy their whole lives. They were not there for him when he struggled because they physically lived in a different region of the country and did not see him.)

And outside of his biological family:

Laure: obviously their relationship is too complicated to talk about here, but regarding the end of Andoche’s life, Laure really tried her best to help. In early 1813 she obtained sick leave for him and put a lot of effort into looking after him at home and making him happy, but then he got sent to Illyria. She couldn’t go with him because she was pregnant (was the father Andoche or Laure’s lover Maurice? who tf knows), but when she got the news he was being sent home she was told he would pass through Geneva and went to meet him there. Unfortunately tragedy struck as Eugene de Beauharnais decided to send Andoche straight to Montbard without telling Laure, and then Laure had a traumatic miscarriage and was unable to travel to her husband. So Laure wasn’t there for him when he died, but she had tried her best to reunite with him, and her letters to Maurice about Andoche’s death are full of genuine heartbreak.

Brother-in-law (Albert de Permon): he was good friends with Andoche and, after the events discussed above, went to Montbard on Laure’s behalf to bear news of what had happened. He was with Andoche when he died.

Overall, Junot had a good relationship with his family and they tried their best to help him. But the issues he suffered from are hard to overcome in modern day, let alone in the 19th century. I think that, given how stigmatised mental illness was back then and how little people knew about it, his family did a decent job of trying to support him. I hope this answered your question!