#between this and everything else i'll write next. this however surprises no one

[shichidikai]

apparently the secret move i didn't know i had up my sleeve was to return to my roots and write the most pointless crack fic possible and suddenly there's entire scenes completed, i don't feel the need to fight the order, and my notes are almost 3k

[lady-of-endless]

Front Man/Hwang In-ho (player 001) x player!reader headcanons (season 2)

Author's Note: This season cured my writer's block. I'm sorry but I'm down bad for this red flag. I hope you'll enjoy it! Click here for a masterlist because there's more to come.

- He infiltrated the game either to make sure everything goes accordingly, either for a sick wish to mess with the players because he's empty inside (but not for long), or both.

- Unfortunately for "player 001", his charm and manipulation are obvious to you and you're not that pleased to see him getting close to the team you're in. Gi-hun (player 456) team. What could you do? Manipulate the manipulator.

- A game within a game, a calculated and dangerous play. In-ho senses and accepts this indirect challenge from you. He's interested, he feels excitement once again after such a long time.

- However, that's not his priority. He will push away his aroused interest to keep his duties as the Frontman and keep the game going despite Gi-hun's tries to end it.

- But one day, he noticed your mask falling for a moment, a crack in the role you played with him and that got him hooked again. He wondered what it took to break through that facade of yours and see the real you.

- There's a thrilling dance of fake smiles and fascination between you two that no one else sees. Just two capable, trustworthy, charming players.

- In-ho has a very cold but intense gaze, especially when he's shamelessly admiring you. However, you can't tell if he's admiring you or scheming against you.

- When your glass is full, you come up with a plan to corner him and confront him about his intentions with the team, without alarming the others. The plan was flawless in theory. In-ho sensed that something was up from the moment you asked him to join you under the bed bunks for better safety during the night. He complied out of curiosity, with a smirk on his lips. Every plan that's perfect in theory, it's never perfect in practice. The closeness, the intimacy, the tension, and the pent-up frustration all lead to something else entirely. Your planned interrogation switched to pure instincts and denied feelings.

(If you like this idea, let me know, I'll write a one shot)

- Since that night, something has shifted in your dynamic. During the games, it seems that he's trying to... protect you? It was clear to you during the mingle game when he was dragging you forcefully with him no matter the number the speakers announced. You didn't question it, you just followed him. You didn't have a choice; his grip and determination were too strong. God have mercy on those who try to attack you to get inside the room with him. You already saw his impeccable fighting skills so it doesn't surprise you when you see him in action. However, it's shocking when he gets to even drastic measures for you (like eliminating other players, we've seen it).

- In-ho is guilty of many things and one of them is also jealousy. He's subtle with it though.

- There's something unsaid between you two. He doesn't know if it's attachment or not, thinking that he might not be able to feel that again. Especially for you. But he's wrong, and he sees that clearly when, during a risky game, you almost got eliminated. He was about to lose it; his fingers were digging into your skin when he embraced you to "congratulate you." It was more than that. There was something desperate in the way he held him against you and you could feel that.

- At night, after that incident, he tells you his reason for participating in the game. Even though you can't decide if he tells the truth or not, you can see his expression getting vulnerable and his eyes watery nonetheless.

- Since then, whenever he stares at you, he's thinking of a way to take you away from this mess, next to him. He also thinks of ordering the guards secretly, to make some circumstances in your favor during the next games.

[targaryen-dynasty]

TO STOKE A FLAME.

Aemond Targaryen x servant!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; p in v, oral (m receiving), power imbalance (prince and maid), mutual pining, female Reader

WORDS: 4K

NOTES: this is written for the writing challenge hosted by @targaryenvampireslayer I got the prompt "Just relax for me, I'll make it feel good" and the trope mutual pining. This was my first time writing mutual pining, and I hope it's at least slightly fitting lol.

When you’re first assigned to cleaning the chambers of the King’s second son, your heart leaps for it means you are able to escape the tortures of being a scullery maid for a position that is at least a bit higher ranked, and not as ungrateful and strainful. 

Prince Aemond is an early riser, already up long before first light, and whenever he sets off to train with the sword in the morning, it’s time for you to take care of his quarters. 

There’s another maid that has been offered the same opportunity, only that she is in charge of making the chambers Prince Aegon presentable, and from what you have gathered, you wouldn’t want to trade places with her. 

Aemond’s chambers are always immaculate when you step into them. Everything is in its place, and the air is always filled with the cool morning breeze from the windows he’s kept open. Quite different to the quarters of his older brother. 

But what they do have in common are their questionable reputations. 

While Aegon is promiscuous, known to pinch and fondle at any serving girl who strays within his reach, Aemond is somewhat feared, at least among the staff. Most servant girls keep well away from the prince, and a part of you is certain it is solely because of the black eyepatch he dons after losing his eye, and the grim expression he usually holds on his face. 

The other maid that tends to his chambers with you is overly cautious when dusting or putting fresh linens on his bed, something that even makes you swallow thickly. However, you can’t seem to bring yourself to share their sentiment. 

How could you?

Despite only meeting the prince very briefly, you feel like every day that you sweep through his chambers, you get to know him more and more. If there’s bedlam following in Aemond’s wake when he leaves in the morning, it merely consists of several books scattered all over his desk, his armchairs and sometimes even his bed. 

Most of them deal with dragon lore, history, and a variety of other subjects which you wouldn’t expect to be read by any other lord, making clear that the prince is very well educated, and always strives to learn more. 

And though he keeps his chambers mostly spotless, there’s very much of his personality in them – if you read between the lines. 

More oft than not, the armchairs close to the fireplace don’t stand in their usual positions, turned to the side to face each other with one of them being piled by books or scrolls. And you know from the servants that he’s often found sitting beside the fireplace either in deep thought or engrossed in a book with the flames of the fire dancing in the corner of his eye. 

You’re cleaning his quarters all by yourself today for Darla, the other maid assigned, has been called to take care of something else, which means you’re granted slightly more time for Aemond’s chambers. 

Kneeling in front of the fireplace, you’re knocking off as much ash and debris as possible back into it, before some of it is swept up and emptied into the pail standing next to you. 

You’ve been a bit too engrossed in your task when the doors behind you burst open, catching you by surprise and startling you. There’s only one person that could and would enter the prince’s quarters at this hour of the day – the prince himself. 

As you hurry to get back on your feet, already straightening and dusting off the skirt of your maid attire, you’re a bit too quick and hit your head on the ledge of the fireplace, your mob cap falling to the ground in the process. 

It’s a stinging pain that shoots right through your whole body, and a throbbing that settles at the crown of your head. You bring a hand up to soothe the pain at least a bit, before you’re reminded of the reason why you got up in the first place. 

Gritting your teeth, you take in a sharp breath and lower your hand, bobbing a small curtsy with a strained ‘Prince Aemond’ leaving your lips to the man that stands still in the room, clearly regarding you.

“My apologies, I–” you say, trying to make excuses and wanting to state that you’re just about to leave, but he cuts you off. 

“Are you well?” he asks, though there is a lilt of amusement in his voice. “I apologize for startling you, that was not my intent.”

What’s even more unusual than him apologizing to you, a servant, for barging into his own chambers is that he's inquiring about your well-being. You’ve never before been acknowledged by any of the Targaryen’s, not that you expected it, and feeling his gaze on you kind of makes you nervous. 

He raises his brow when there doesn’t come an answer from you, and you take it as your cue to speak. “I–Yes, Prince Aemond,” you stutter, bowing your head. Raising it again, your hand brushes the crown of it briefly, the spot still throbbing despite it happening a few moments ago. “I am well. It’s–It’s nothing, my prince.” 

Gathering your things, you’re caught off guard for a second time since he’s entered his chambers as he slowly approaches you. He has a sympathetic smile on his lips now, and you’re not sure if it’s the embarrassment or him coming close enough to tower above you, but your body feels like it’s been put on fire. 

“Are you certain you’re well?” he asks, eye flitting from your head to meet your eyes. “You’ve struck your head rather hard.”

He reaches to inspect the spot on your head, yet he hesitates and pulls back right before his fingers could brush your hair. You’re slightly disappointed, but your pounding heart is grateful. Just the mere proximity brings a blush to your cheeks and has you shifting your weight from one leg to the other, and you’re certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle him touching you. 

There’s a moment of silence between you, and your hands clutch the handle of the pail tight enough for your knuckles to blanch from the force. It’s unnerving, and you’re torn between wanting to stay and wanting to leave. You’re afraid he’s not the man you’ve made up in your mind, that there’s just a hint of truth in the rumors that make their way around staff and court. 

His voice cuts through the silence like a sharp blade, smooth and somewhat calming. “What’s your name?”

Taking in a deep breath, you tell him your name, but not without your eyes darting to the ground. His gaze is heavy, too heavy for you to meet it, and you feel as though there’s something else than curiosity woven within it.

“You’re quite flustered over nothing,” he hums, and the way your name slips past his lips with so much ease almost makes you melt right then and there; at least it’s enough to make you forget that he’s clearly noticed the effect he has on you. 

Aemond takes note of you being nervous around him, his attention causing your blood to rush through your veins. It seems as though it’s a rather strong reaction that you have to him, something not many women feel when he comes near them. It’s endearing.

Your eyes flicker upwards to meet his good one again, and you straighten your back for another curtsy. 

“M-my apologies, Prince Aemond.”

You can spot the exact moment the corners of his lips curl into a teasing smirk, your timid demeanor and your nervousness the trigger for it. And being as cocky as he is, he thinks he could have a bit of fun with you. 

“It seems you’re rather out of sorts for something so trivial,” he notes, his tone teasing and playful, matching the flicker of mischief in his eye. “Perhaps I should inspect you myself to see if you have in fact sustained any injuries.”

His words make you feel as if the world around you is slowing down, making everything feel almost unbearable. You’re finding it incredibly hard to look him in the eye without blushing or your breath becoming heavy, and therefore fix them on the ground again. Noticing his large feet in comparison to your much smaller ones, your thoughts briefly stray to what else of him might be large. 

But before you can answer him, or your thoughts can dive deeper, Aemond places a hand beneath your chin and gently tilts your face back up for you to meet his gaze. You’ve only seen one other in passing, and even then you’re certain he’s paid no mind to you at all, so his touch comes unexpected. But you don’t tense, and you certainly don’t pull away. However, you’re unsure if you should give in and lean into it. 

His finger brushes along your jawline, trailing down the curve of your neck, and coming close to your collarbone, a heat following in its wake. He stops for a second, as if he’s debating whether or not he should move his touch any further. 

Aemond’s surprised by your reaction, yet he also realizes that you’re much more interesting than any of the other maids for they were all alike – all not daring to look at him or stay in his presence for longer than a few minutes. But you’re different. 

He could already tell by the way you so neatly clean and store his books when he’s spent his night reading by the fire, or how you seem to pay extra attention when you’re putting fresh linens on his bed, fluffing his pillows without the hurry the previous chambermaid has had. 

And seeing his touch having such a significant impact on you, the little maid he’s spent so much time dreaming and fantasizing about, feeds a desire he didn’t have before – the desire to bed you, to claim you. 

“Get on your knees,” he orders, hooded eye looking down at you. 

Swallowing thickly, your mind struggles to comprehend what he asked of you. “I-what?” you stammer in disbelief. 

“You heard me. On your knees.” He’s a bit firmer now, and uses the slight grip he has on your shoulder to give you a little help sinking down. You follow his lead, the pail rattling onto the ground. 

Your hands are folded in your lap when you gaze up at him, eyes wide and curiously studying his next move. With your thumbs brushing over each other, you try to keep your fluttering nerves at bay, grazing your skin to distract yourself from the throbbing that blossoms between your legs. 

Aemond looms over you, reaching out to cup your cheek with one hand. There’s something in the position you’re in, and the combination of his gentle touch and stern orders that gets to your head, and lures you in to lean into his hand. It also makes you a bit bolder as you place a hand on his thigh in return.

It piques his interest, obvious in the way he raises a brow, and his eye flickers to where your hand rests on his body. But he doesn’t shy away from the touch. 

“Do you know what I require of you?” Aemond asks, sterner than before. 

You bow your head, batting your eyelashes at him in an innocent manner. “I do, my Prince.”

That’s all he has to hear before he swiftly unlaces the front of his breeches and tugs them down barely enough to free his cock and stones, the sight alone making your breath hitch in your throat. He’s well endowed, and far bigger than the cock of the one man you’ve slept with before.

You release a shaky breath, replaying all the knowledge you’ve gathered about pleasuring a man with your mouth, and catch a whiff of musk mixed with the salty smell of sweat – he’s definitely trained with the sword this morning. 

Squeezing his thigh, your eyes flicker between his and his hard cock as the slight nod of his head encourages you to curl your hand around it, your thumb and index finger barely touching. 

He throbs in your palm already, and the tip is covered in a red that makes it clear he’s desperate to be buried inside of something; probably not caring whether it’s your mouth or your cunt.

Even though you cower beneath his dominating presence, a jolt of boldness strikes you that makes you lean in and lick a flat stripe from the base of his cock up to the bulbous tip. A salty taste lingers on your tongue as you drag it over the slit, making you hum appreciatively, seemingly pleased to witness the effect your touch and presence have on the prince’s body. 

Aemond buries his hands in your hair, loosening the bun you’ve put it into this morning, and grabs a fistful of it. It’s a sharp tug of him that catches your attention, and your wide eyes flit up to meet his demanding gaze. 

Spurred on by the heavy breaths moving his chest, you swallow, and eventually part your lips to slowly ease him inside, and even though he holds you by your hair, he’s generous enough to not force himself inside, allowing you to move as you please. 

“Fuck,” he growls as he gets accustomed to the warmth and tightness of your mouth, head tipping back to release a bawdy groan. 

You hollow your cheeks around him, and, after a few moments that allow you to adjust to him, start to bob your head back and forth his thick length, flattening your tongue against him for added stimulation. 

Growing bolder and bolder with each passing moment, you squeeze your thighs together every time the tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat, robbing you of the ability to breathe until you pull off of him again. 

With his hand in your hair, Aemond senses you getting more comfortable, and starts to guide your head along his member, encouraging you to set up a quicker pace to which you eagerly comply. 

“That’s it,” he groans, not able to tear his eye from the sight of your lips wrapped around him as his cock repeatedly disappears inside of your mouth.

Droplets of your saliva dribble from the corners of your lips down your chin with how fast you sink down on him, and the lewd sounds of his soaked cock sliding back and forth past your lips fill the prince’s chambers, hardly drowned out by his grunts and groans. 

At this point, you’re drenched in your arousal, the linen of your small clothes clinging to your swollen mound in a way that’s almost uncomfortable. 

While you bring one hand up to clasp around the rest of his cock that doesn’t fit into your mouth, the other grips his thigh a bit harder than before, holding onto him for dear life as he uses your face however he pleases. 

You feel the muscles of his thigh tense and contract under your palm and his cock throb inside of you, indicating that he’s close to reaching his peak. It’s the first time you pleasure a man with your mouth, and you’re not quite sure what to expect. But before you can brace yourself for whatever might come, Aemond pulls you off of him by your hair, prompting you to topple back to sit on your haunches. 

You lock your teary eyes with his good one, lips smacking as his musky and salty taste spreads on them and your tongue. “My Prince, I–”

“Remove your clothes,” he interrupts you, his voice less friendly and more a command. 

There are so many thoughts rattling your mind right now, and you don’t know where to start and what to process. 

“I wasn’t asking,” he growls, his impatience showing as you don’t comply quickly enough. 

With a bow of your head, you rise to your feet and peel the beige-ish apron off of your body, the red dress and smallclothes following suit. You waste no thought on your modesty, on the fact that you’re standing bare in front of a prince of the mighty House Targaryen. The longing for him that has built with all the days you’ve cleaned his pristine chambers, and the undeniable aching between your legs don’t allow you to. 

You’re undressed when he stalks around you, regarding you like he’s the hunter and you’re his prey. You see that your obedience arouses him, his hard cock throbbing and bouncing with each step he takes around you. It’s thrilling in the best way possible, and the feeling of being desired by him feeds your confidence.

“Are you just watching, or will the prince undress as well?” 

His eye narrows and flickers up to yours at your question, and there’s the hint of a smile adorning his features. “Would you like that?” 

Biting your bottom lip, a blush creeps on your cheeks. “Very much.”

As you size him up, you notice a flush blossoming from his cheeks down his neck, the same warmth you feel obviously spreading through his body, too. 

“Then I suppose that I’ll oblige.”

You watch with half-lidded eyes as he removes his clothing, slipping out of layer after layer, starting with the black leather robe, and ending with his smallclothes.  

You all but drag your eyes over his lithe frame, taking in every muscle that ripples beneath his pale skin, and every silver, coarse hair that trails from below his navel to his cock and the sac of his stones. 

It seems like he basks in your attention, in the way you stare at him in awe as you lick your lips, and he’s certainly not afraid of showing himself in his full glory. 

“Get on the bed,” he says, smugly. “On your hands and knees.”

This time you know better than to take a few seconds to comply, bowing your head before climbing his bed right away, getting in the desired position. You suddenly feel vulnerable and exposed, completely at his mercy in a way you’ve never experienced before. However, your curiosity and desire overshadow any reservations you could have. 

“Pray tell, have you lain with a man before?” You feel the mattress dip beneath his weight as he slowly settles behind you. His hands find your hips, and you shiver with anticipation. 

Looking at him from over your shoulder, you nod. “Just once, my prince.”

A soft hm rubles in his chest at your words, and he raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your words. You certainly seem to take him very seriously, which isn’t unusual given his station, but it’s your honesty that’s a whole different matter to him. “You enjoyed it, I presume?”

Still meeting his gaze, you swallow thickly. You’re hesitant to answer, not sure why it’s of importance, but he doesn’t seem willing to let you off the hook just yet. “Yes, I did.”

Aemond gives your flesh an appreciative squeeze at that, and shuffles close enough for you to feel his cock press against your arse. “Would you be willing to again?”

You press your lips into a thin line to stop them from pulling into a grin, but fail miserably. The prince behind you takes that as his cue to continue, and you’re most grateful when you feel him drag the tip of his cock through your soaked folds. 

“Just relax for me,” he purrs, his eye fixed on the motions of his hand, watching as his cock disappears inside of you. “I’ll make it feel good.”

The moment you stretch around him, you take in a sharp breath, his cock breaching your cunt at a teasingly slow pace that makes sure you feel every vein and ridge of him drag along your walls.

With his hands coming back to rest on your hips, he pulls you onto his cock until his hips press against your arse, taking his time to adjust to your tightness. The ‘shit’ he mumbles doesn’t go unnoticed by you, a renewed wave of your arousal drenching his cock and the sac of his stones. 

If his impatience hasn’t been running thin before, it certainly does now, because the first gentle, sensual thrusts are quickly replaced by merciless pounding. You don’t mind it for you’ve been thoroughly soaked, and enjoy the feeling of his cock repeatedly brushing the spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry. 

Aemond brings a hand between your shoulders, applying a good bit of pressure to press your chest down and your face into the pillows. Your head turns to the side, but you’re not able to look at him.

His breathing is heavy, strained pants leaving him, and his hand trails back to grope your arse. 

“Fuck, what an obedient girl they’ve ordered to take care of my chambers–of me,” Aemond rambles behind you, bowing forwards to put a bit more of his weight on your small frame. “Taking me so well. Giving me exactly what I want.” 

The praise goes straight to your head, and you want to answer, but the words die on your tongue, replaced by quiet whimpers and whines that grow wanton as he splits you open with a hard, percussive thrust. Then another follows, and another, keening at the sweet sounds you make only for him. 

Not able to focus on anything else than the pressure building inside of your belly, you push your hips back against him, and he counters by pulling you back with each of his thrusts, meeting him halfways which results in the lewd sounds of skin slapping on skin to echo off the walls. 

He’s making you feel so good, so wanted, that you’re certain you would keep going even if someone is to barge into his chambers, interrupting you.

As his hand snakes beneath your body to make contact with your pearl, you’re overcome with the true knowledge of how experienced Aemond actually is. He strums your body like the most talented lutenist, bringing you closer towards your sweet release. 

“Gods, I–” you whine into the pillows. 

The taut string inside of you snaps, and the pleasure within you soares through your veins. White, hot pleasure clouds your vision, his arm around you the only thing keeping you up right now. 

“That’s it,” Aemond grunts, and the snaps of his hips increase to the point your whines become hiccuped, catching in your throat with little to no time to fill your lungs with air. 

And then, his hips stutter, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of your quivering walls. He twitches and trembles so much that he’s forced to still his hips, and you take it as your cue to roll yours against him, helping him through his peak. 

The throbbing only stills once you’ve milked him for every drop of his seed and the last bit of the euphoric high subsides, making him come back to his senses. 

But there’s not much basking in the proximity for you, not when Aemond pulls out almost immediately after, climbing off the bed to get dressed again. The red dress is crudely thrown into your direction, silently making clear that it’s time for you to leave. 

It seems as though he’s embarrassed, because he has a hard time meeting your eyes, and doesn’t look at you when you get back in your clothes. But perhaps you’re just not catching the subtle glances he throws into your direction as your maid attire comes back to hug your curves. 

Tying the apron and fixing your hair, you reach for the pail. It’s then, with you bowing forwards, that you finally feel his seed trickling out of your cunt, and the sensation alone makes you shiver in an uncomfortable way. You certainly have to look for a quiet spot in the keep where you can clean yourself, since you’re not done working. 

You head for the door, but before you open it, his smooth voice catches your attention again. 

“You may leave now, but I expect you to come back and finish your task at the Hour of the Ghosts, for you have not cleaned the fireplace thoroughly enough.”

Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @hypocritic-trash-baby @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @connorsui @valeskafics

[kishibe-kisser]

"I like to think Yuji is ours in another life." Your words were soft and gentle, speaking so quiet almost in fear that Nanami heard it. It had been plaguing your mind since you had met the boy, how he sparked that parental instinct in you both. However the last few weeks it was all you could think about when him and Nanami were out on a job.

You felt relief thinking the boy had someone like Nanami to look up to and that Nanami had someone to dote on. They both deserved it, the happiness of a family. Yuji only had his grandfather growing up and Nanami yearned for nothing more than a family. It was only natural that when you packed and extra lunch for Yuji that the thoughts crossed your mind.

You watched Nanami shift, turning his head on your chest to look at you. He looked tired, with slight bags under his eyes. The stress was from work, not Yuji. If anything the boy made him feel younger again... he reminded him so much of Haibara.

"They're all just kids. They need someone looking out for them." He replied shortly... wrapping his arms around you tightly, feeling the sheets around you shift. You mussed your fingers through his unstyled hair, nodding in agreement. "And Yuji..." He trailed off, his eyes looking past you rather than at you. He didn't like talking about him much, out of anger and out of sadness for the boy's inevitable fate. It upset the sorcerer more than he wanted to admit. He loved and hated the boy's sunny disposition despite it all.

"He's a kid, put into a position where he can't be one." You trailed your fingers over the lines on his face, sighing at his words. He too was just a kid once, him, Gojo, Geto... Haibara, all just kids in unfortunate positions. You would have been lying if you said you hadn't shed a tear thinking about the things Nanami had went through, the things he had shared at least. It was clear the topic of Yuji struck him deeply.

"It's silly of me, I know. But I sometimes imagine what he was like when he was a child." You smiled, trying to make the conversation lighter. "Boys like him are always such a handful as kids. So curious." You added on and Nanami stifled a laugh. "I imagine with Yuji's personality. He definitely got into trouble." Nanami surprised you, not thinking he would indulge this fantasy of yours. He tended to be the realist between the both of you, but even a realist needs to dream every now and again.

"He probably got into everything he wasn't supposed to because he still does." He laughed and you felt a weight sit on your stomach. It was a combination of joy and sorrow for both Nanami and Yuji. "It's good to dream." Nanami said, taking note of your sudden somber expression. His hands finding your face to wipe away tears you didn't even know had slipped.

"It is." You agreed and released a shaky breath. He never realized quite how much you had thought about this or how much he had. "He's a good kid..." You laughed, shaking off how ridiculous you were being and wiping the tears away. "He is." His laugh was sympathetic, maybe towards you or maybe towards Yuji, maybe even to himself. "You're working together again tomorrow right? I'll pack him a lunch too." You said, feigning a smile as Nanami stroked your hair.

It was indeed good to dream and for kids to be kids, he'd protect them to the best of his abilities. For their sake and the sake of himself, because he too was young once.

A/N: I'll get over Nanami soon (no i won't) and I'll write less for him (no I won't) eventually. No but seriously I'll write something else soon, it's just that this is stuck in my head so it's easy to put down on paper. I don't have time lately to write alot because it's exam season the next weeks. But after that! I will try my best to update my lists!

[bobbile-blog]

Okay so I've finally gotten to Jessicalter's Oprec and now feel qualified to talk about Come Catastrophes or Wakes of Vultures. holy shit. This went straight into my list of top Arknights events. Fantastic event, spoilers will be under the cut so I HIGHLY RECOMMEND reading the event first. It's really good and worth your while.

Anyway, what follows is a scattered mess of thoughts about this event and things that stuck out to me.

First off, plot stuff! I'll probably cover this when I do my next plotline recap post, but what I took away from the end is that Clip Cliff seems to want to make Blacksteel independent, or at least more self-determining than it is now. He seems to be gathering resources and assets like mobile city plates and investing in long-term infrastructure like merc training, so he definitely has a long game he's pushing for. I don't think we know enough go speculate about his goals, but we'll definitely be coming back here again. After all, Tila has an infection monitor in her art, which probably means she's going to be playable at some point in the future.

Next, having looked into this a little on my own, I was interested in some of the previous places Raythean has shown up. Specifically, the ones that stood out were the drones in the Kazimierz Major and arming Silverash's forces in Kjerag, which might be referring to the Tschäggättä. It's not just notable for their apparent level of technology, but also as a faint connecting thread between three separate capitalism plotlines. I don't know if that's going to be meaningful in the future, but I found it interesting enough that I thought I'd bring it up.

Now on to more narrative things. While I love Liskarm and Franka, I do think it was the right choice to give them less screen time in this event. They're both (for the most part) fully-realized characters who understand their own motivations and morals. This is above all else an event about Jessica learning to stand on her own as an adult, so it makes sense that they're more here to support her than they are to play their own roles in the story.

Speaking of said roles, I liked the event's commentary on cops. It pointed out an interesting distinction that I wouldn't really have ever thought of, that between mercenaries and cops. To start: cops exist to protect property, not people. The police exist to protect things and do not have an obligation to err on the side of people over things, and in fact are supposed to do the opposite. This event understands that, and that role os the core of how the bank treats the Blacksteel mercs. CV, however, raises an interesting point that mercenaries are bound by the letter of a contract and not the larger obligation to property cops are, so they can actually raise moral objections and point to their contracts, sort of a Lawful Evil/Lawful Neutral to cops' Neutral Evil. The independence of their position with respect to cops allows for more of an independent morality than you'd get in a cop story and I like that, I think it's a really smart direction to take your writing in.

On a (mostly) separate note, holy shit Arknights is really good at writing cowboy stories. Between this and chapter 9 (and I would argue An Obscure Wanderer), Arknights has repeatedly made it clear that they Do Not Fuck Around with their cowboy stories and I'm surprised I haven't heard more people talking about it. It kinda has everything:

- It takes place in a rural, working-class setting undergoing a larger imminent societal shift that can inform the larger narrative, and deals with a semi-mythologized past that is rapidly disappearing.

- It has a protagonist and an antagonist that serve as foils, both very heavily affected and defined by the (same) violence in their past that they've both had different reactions to. Our protagonist has come to terms with the violence as a tool to maintain order, while our antagonist has used it for personal gain and in some ways lost control of it.

- It's a story about community, and heavily emphasizes local and personal community over larger artificial corporate "community". That's my reading of the recurring motif of the cold btw, warmth represents the close, personal community Davistown used to have and the cold that now pervades it comes from how the bank has systematically dismantled that community.

- And, I'd argue most importantly, it understands the narrative power of a bullet. The Showdown at the end of a cowboy story is powerful because we've spent the entire runtime of our story with these characters, and they are now facing each other down with the intent to end one of their collective two stories. The entire weight of the narrative so far comes to rest on a single moment of tension. It's really hard to gather up the kind of narrative momentum you need to make that hit like it does in CV. For example, it requires a really light hand with actual action in the story, so that it really does feel like it's an even standoff between our protagonist and antagonist. On the other hand, though, you do actually have to establish the relative skill of both parties and actually sell the danger of the moment to the audience. It's really hard to toe the line between tension and actual action in a way that makes for a satisfying resolution, and CV does it extremely well.

Honestly, Arknights just seems really good at getting the vibes of American media right. This is something I noticed in DV and Lonetrail too, and I haven't really been able to put my finger on what it is about them, but the vibes are just really on-point. I want to write more about this at a later point once I actually figure out what it is that I'm feeling, but maybe it's the setting, maybe it's the cast, maybe it's the plot points, maybe it's something in between — it just seems to understand the spirit of period cowboy stories in a way that I can't describe. Good shit.

Finally, I wanna end this with where Jessica is now. The events of CV take place In between the events of Loneterail and Ideal City, so the current "now" of the story is a few months ahead. Jessica left for the frontier along with Woody, Helena, and Miles. They live together in a small new settlement, building the place from the ground up with Woody and Jessica acting as town sherrifs. At the point we're at now, rhe town is fairly well-established and Woody has temporarily left on other business, leaving Jessica the sole sherrif of their new settlement. However, she's risen to her new station, and is growing into a stronger person than she ever was before.

[stevie-petey]

If you're still taking blurbs could we see something with hopper and bug? I don't really have any ideas in mind but I'd like to see them together however you wanna write them. Thank you if you get to this! <333

hop n bug :(( i miss them sm

enjoy !

"are you for or against bribery?"

"im sorry?"

you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed as you stare at hopper from across the room. hes in his recliner, feet propped up with a beer in his hand. "you know, bribery. im sure youve done it."

his eyebrow twitches. "shouldnt you be leaving?"

"so i take it that as a 'yes' then."

"what is 'bribery'?" el materializes behind you, causing you to nearly have a heart attack.

shes scarily quiet, sometimes.

"its none of your business, kid." hopper says lazily, used to the girls sudden appearances.

you scoff at him and turn to el. "bribery is bad, sweetheart. but im going to use hoppers weakness for chocolate to advantage so i can get you to attend steves graduation."

"'graduation'?" el asks at the same time as hopper cackles, "yeah, not on my watch."

like a child, you stomp your foot. "c'mon, old man! everyone else will be there and steve could really use the support."

"isnt he some rich douchebag?"

"language!" you glare at the man, covering els ears as she giggles. "but... not anymore?"

hopper takes a long, slow drink from his beer. wiping his mouth, he belches obnoxiously and scratches his stomach. ignoring your disgusted face, he points a finger at you. "you know the rules. el doesnt leave this cabin."

"shes a kid, hopper."

"my point exactly."

el looks between you and hopper, her eyebrows furrowed. shes following along as best as she can. you hadnt meant to have this conversation in front of her. you thought she'd remain asleep in her room.

"will mike go?" she has a determined glint in her brown eyes.

hopper sucks in a breath. he sends you a glare, warning you not to say anything. but you smile sickly sweet and turn to el. "actually, he is going!"

els eyes light up. she spins around, throws herself against hoppers chair. "then i want to go."

"see?" you join els side and stare down at the man, a smirk on your face. "el wants to go and im sure she could use the fresh air."

"y/n." hopper rubs his forehead tiredly. youre annoyingly persistent. he knows you mean well, but he just cant risk els safety for something as trivial as a high school graudation.

"please?" youre not above pouting to get your way. "i mean, realistically how many secret government agents would even attend a high school graduation, looking for el?"

el nods. "yeah! how many?"

"we can never be too careful-"

"i'll bake you five entire batches of brownies."

hopper looks at you, unamused. "thats not going to work on me."

"joyce mentioned that you secretly enjoy marshmallow." you challenge.

"she talks to you about me?" hopper asks you, pleasantly surprised.

his interest makes you curious. "i mean, yeah. we talk about you all the time."

"hm..." hopper gets a far off look on his face, and for a moment youve lost him.

"hey!" your hand slams against his arm. "pay attention to me, im trying to bribe you."

"bribery is bad." el says, as if as a threat. her eyes are narrowed and her body is stiff. her threatening stance is adorable.

you kiss els forehead. "thats right, sweetheart. bribery is bad, and we're going to make your dad suffer."

your dad.

the words slip out before you can stop them. el doesnt pay them any attention, but hoppers inhales quickly and looks away. worried youve ruined everything, you begin to ramble.

"i'll bake anything you want, and i'll even trick mike into shoveling your driveway the next time it snows. i-i'll make sure no one sees el and that shes in a disguise. i have some clothes-and i'll even have her back as soon as the ceremony is over and-"

"kid." hoppers voice interrupts you. both you and el stare at him with big, pleading eyes. the sight is brutal, theres no way he stands a chance of telling the two of you no.

sighing and groaning far too loud for your taste, hopper finally relents. "fine."

"yes!" you screech, jumping up and down before you can stop yourself. "thank you, thank you, thank you!"

el jumps alongside you, squealing with glee as well. shes glowing, happy as ever, and you grab her hands and jump merrily with her. "he said yes!"

"woah-listen!" hopper yells, clapping his hands. "hey, i have some terms and conditions you need to follow before i completely agree."

too overjoyed, you dont care whatever price youll have to pay. "bring it on, old man."

"i want a months worth of brownies." he states, taking another sip from his beer. "and free babysitting whenever i need it. i also want your nosey brother to stop tapping into my PD radio. and tell that wheeler kid to stop breathing."

"i can do all requests but the last one."

el shakes her head, very serious and grim. "mike cannot be a mouth breather."

the outrageous statement causes you to laugh, and hopper even lets out a confused, though amused, chuckle. el doesnt understand why what shes said is so funny, but she laughs along anyways.

its a good night.

[pink-princess-pussy-pop]

Quiet - Rafe x Reader

Req: can you please write a friends to enemies to lovers for rafe cameron?

YESSSSIR

idk if you wanted smut but i wrote it just in case!! enjoy!

Summary: You and Rafe struggle with your true feelings.

Warnings: Language, smut, dom! rafe, gagging,

You arrived on the Cut several years ago, quickly befriended by a girl named Sarah Cameron. Along with Sarah came her brooding older brother, Rafe. Summers in the OBX meant summers spent with Sarah and her family. The more you hung around them, the more you grew fond of them. Sarah, of course, Wheezie, like a little sister to you, Ward and Rose like parents, and Rafe? For some reason, he never felt like a brother to you. There was always something else looming between the two of you.

You classified Rafe as a friend. He would always look out for you like he would Sarah, and he was never mean to you, which you knew Rafe could be.

Summer memories were filled with boat days on My Druthers with the Camerons and sleepovers at Tannyhill. There was never a dull moment when you were with them.

Rafe and his friends would pull pranks on you and Sarah, throwing water balloons at you while laying at the pool, putting salt in your lemonade instead of sugar, typical teenage boy things.

The day they threw you both in the pool changed things between you and Rafe.

...

It was sweltering hot. Too hot. And what better way to cool off than by lying in the shade next to the pool at Tannyhill? You and Sarah had spent the day playing in the pool with Wheezie and were now relaxing in the shade, tired bodies relishing in the escape from the heat.

Soft music was playing and along with the sound of the water, you and Sarah were oblivious to the snickering boys plotting behind you.

"Top you get Sarah, I'll get Y/N, and Kelce, make sure you are in a place to get the video." Rafe's tone was hushed, not wanting to alert you and Sarah. "On the count of three..." He held up his fingers and mouthed,

"One, two, three!" With that, Topper and Rafe charged forward and you and Sarah were taken by surprise. She screamed when Topper's arms wrapped around her, making your head turn to see what was happening. Then, you felt a pair of strong arms around your torso, lifting you in the air. Before you could vocally react, you heard his voice in your ear.

"You're about to get all wet for me."

Fuck.

The next thing you knew, Rafe had thrown you in the pool and you came up sputtering water alongside Sarah.

"Assholes!" She screamed at the boys who were laughing their asses off at the video Kelce had taken.

You, however, were flushed to the core at Rafe's dirty words in your ear. As you trod water, catching your breath, you locked eyes with Rafe.

A rare, genuine smile was gracing his handsome face. The kind where his eyes crinkle at the corners. The kind that always made your heart flutter.

Rafe's smile seemed to grow when he looked into your eyes. As did your admiration for him after that day.

...

Everything seemed to change after that, and not in a good way.

After Sarah became friends with the Pogues, you had too, officially ending any friendship between you and Rafe. And also, the potential of something more.

The time you had spent at Tannyhill was now a distant memory, as you no longer felt comfortable there, due to Rafe's hatred towards you. Your heart still longed for him, and the glimmer of hope for the two of you remained despite you now being a "pogue".

Anytime you saw Rafe on the Cut, you'd duck and cover. You knew what he and his friends were capable of, what they had done to Pope and JJ at the movie not long ago. You didn't want to be the cause of a Pogue Kook war.

When Sarah was shot, your heart broke. You'd known Rafe was struggling with addiction and with his mental health but you didn't think he would shoot his own sister. John B. was quick to remind you that Rafe was the one who shot Sheriff Peterkin, and your heart broke further. You buried your feelings for him deep within your heart, unsure if Rafe would ever be able to redeem himself to you and your friends. And his sister.

But here you are, stuck with Rafe in a small bedroom in Singh's gigantic house. The silence is so loud as you sit on the bed and Rafe paces the length of the room.

You note the differences about him, his buzzed hair, how he has seemed to fill out more, making him impossibly more attractive.

"Listen, if you don't tell Singh where that fuckin' diary thing is, he's gonna kill us both."

"Don't you think I know that, Rafe?" You glare at him from the bed. "I already told you, I don't have it!" He stops in his tracts, his eyes meeting yours.

"I don't believe that for a second, Y/N." His use of your first name makes your blood run cold. You feel so small under his intimidating glare. He begins to walk closer to you. "Now, why don't you make this easier on the both of us and just tell him where it is so we can both get back to our lives," he stops right in front of you, "and never have to speak to each other again."

Your heart sinks at his harsh words but you muster up a look of hatred, hoping it covers the hurt.

You stand from the bed, trying your best to intimidate him, the smirk crossing his face indicating that it was nothing but a pathetic excuse for fear.

"Why are you such an asshole? I have been nothing but kind to you and yet you continue to treat me like shit. We used to be friends Rafe, I liked you. But you ruined that. Not me, you." His eyes widen at your accusations before he smiles again, bending over to match your height.

"When you decided to hang out with the scum of the Earth, is when I decided you were dead to me. You're nothing but a filthy pogue to me, sweetheart. But for right now, I'm all you have, and as much as I hate it, vice-versa."

Your stomach drops at his words. You know he's right.

A sigh escapes your lips as you look away from his dark gaze.

"How do we get out of here?" You plop down on the foot of the bed. Rafe turns away from you, chuckling.

"The only thing I can think of is you telling the fucking truth!"

You yell in reply.

"Shit Rafe! I told you! I don't know where it is. And unless we find a way to escape a different way-" In the blink of an eye Rafe's hand is pressed against your mouth, his eyes gleaming with hate. Your hand wraps around his wrist.

"Shut the fuck up." His head turns to the door, listening for signs of anyone coming towards the door. "Do you want to get us killed faster?" You know he's right.

He turns back to you, looking down at your face, his hand covering your mouth with your fingers around his arm. You blink back up at him and he just stares at you.

"Do you think you can be quiet now?"

Rafe knows he's being condescending but he just can't help it when you are looking at him like that; like you're begging to be fucked. But then you roll your eyes and his hand clamps down harder.

"Watch your attitude sweetheart. I'm being nice right now." He bends down to match your height again, giving you a sweet smile. "I'll ask again. Do you think you can be quiet now?"

You nod, looking at him with wide eyes.

His smile turns into an evil smirk.

"Good girl." His hand pulls away and Rafe turns around, leaving you on the bed to take in his words.

Fuck.

You clamp your thighs together before pushing off of the bed, walking to the window, hoping to catch your breath.

Arms suddenly cage you in, Rafe's strong hands resting on the window sill, causing goosebumps to erupt on your arms.

"Ya' know..." His lips are right next to your ear, words hushed. "I'm interested in how quiet you can be. I think we should test that theory." Your body's reaction to his words is embarrassing but you've always had feelings for Rafe.

"Rafe I-"

"No, you don't get to speak. You gotta be quiet, sweetie." You suck in a breath as his lips connect to your neck. Your hips involuntarily roll into his and you whine. He pulls away. "Did I not make myself clear?" Rafe turns you around, hands pushing your hips into the window sill, pain biting into your lower back. You bring your lip between your teeth as you look into his eyes.

You stay silent, following his orders. Rafe's grin returns and his hands begin to slide up your waist.

His head dips lower, his lips stopping just short of yours, watching as your eyes close in anticipation.

He laughs quietly and your eyes open, glaring at him, embarrassed.

"Oh did you think I was going to kiss you?"

In a moment of confidence, your hands grab his face and pull his lips to yours. His hands grip you tighter, pulling you flush against him. Rafe picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist and he sits on the bed.

You pull away to breathe and his lips return to your neck. You can't help the whine that escapes but quickly regret it when Rafe pulls away.

"Do I need to fucking gag you?" You shake your head. "I don't believe you." He flips you over and his hands tug your pants down. You throw your head back, refusing to look at him.

"C'mon, pretty girl. Don't you wanna watch?" You glance down and Rafe is grinning, white-knuckle grip on your lacy underwear. He pulls it down your legs, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

You watch as he climbs over you, your underwear in his hand.

"Open your mouth." Your face flushes, unable to process what is happening, but you obey his orders and Rafe pushes the lace into your mouth. "That should keep you quiet." He smiles again, though this one is more genuine. "Gonna fuck all the pogue right outta you." His hands begin to unbuckle his belt.

All you can do is watch as he reveals himself to you, color draining from your face when you fully see him.

"My eyes are up here, sweetie."

His hands push your legs apart, grinning once again as you look at him with wide eyes. He lines himself up with your entrance before saying,

"What would your friends think if they saw you like this, about to get fucked by me? I wonder what they'll think when you're suddenly a kook again." You try speaking but the fabric muffles it

He pushes into you at that moment, hands gripping your waist. "What's that?" He feigns sympathy. "Sorry, babe. I can't understand you."

Your whines are muffled by the fabric in your mouth. You attempt to remove the fabric, desperate to speak but Rafe is quick to counteract. His fingers wrap around your wrists, bringing your arms over your head in one swift movement with one hand.

"Oh, I don't think so, pretty girl." His hips begin to snap into yours, and the waterfall of moans from your throat is ultimately silenced. Your pitiful attempts to say his name doesn't go unnoticed by him. His grin returns and his tone is so mocking.

"What's that?" His thrusts are fucking relentless. "Fuckin' you so good you can't speak, right." Rafe can't help but watch where your bodies are connected. how your cunt is taking him so well. "You're mine, sweetheart. I hope you enjoyed your time as a pogue because you're never going back." He picks up pace. "You're fucking mine. All mine."

You cannot even form thoughts in your head, too drunk on the feeling of him pushing in and out of you. His lips find your neck and he begins to suck on your pulse point.

Rafe feels your legs begin to shake and grins into your skin.

"You gonna come for me?" He brings his face to meet yours and he takes you in.

Flushed skin, a sheen of sweat across your face, the lace stuffed into your mouth, and the tears welling up in your eyes.

"C'mon, I know you can do it." His free hand slips between your legs to roll your clit between his fingers and the wave of euphoria crashes into you. "Atta girl."

He talks you through it, all while maintaining his pace.

"Mine. All mine."

Rafe finally comes and removes the fabric from your mouth, replacing it with his mouth.

"Say it."

Fuck.

"I'm yours."

Taglist: @iameatingmyhair @cherrrywraith @lil2023 @lcvrsheart @sophiah2253 @mila1224 @iamlilykrav @emotionalldamage @earthruled @bluuuughh @sunsetargent @kingedmund007 @iluvbunnyhops @steveharie @rafelover @tarrenshayne @stcrkeyluvr @idktheusual @eddiemunson86 @taylorswiftloversera @wh0r3-for-klaus @housekeeperjjswife @wildwallflower24 @poge-life @fuckmelikestilesstilinski @user556677889900 @lonnielain @sachaa-ff @xhaliemax @kravitzwhore @coryisagee @multidimensionalslut @fratboyharrysgf0201 @iheartthe90s @settingmoxn @lewisroscoelove @hannahxhoney @iluvcatslolol @x2skyler @user36376373 @kkmstblog @kinokorii @pickingviolets

[dangerousduckcloud]

Flowerbeds make up for a nice eternal rest

Read it also on AO3

“Couldn’t sleep.” You replied, putting the well-loved copy of the book back in the shelf. “What about you?” “Yeah, same.” He sat down on the couch, legs spread and elbows resting on his knees. “Hard to do so when you learn your whole life is a lie… Just ink on paper.”

I've been updating daily, however I've noticed the quality is not quite good sometimes (today, for example), so I'll be taking longer to update, maybe once a week/2 weeks or so, I'm sorry for this, but I wish to write something of good quality

Chapter 6 < > Chapter 8

taglist: @kurai-hono-blog

Fingers ghosting over the spines of the books, you're surprised to see so many titles familiar to you, from Lord of the Rings, Jurassic Park, all the way to Jane Austen books, some of them more worn than the others, a small smile creeping up your face at the thought of knowing just who read these books so many times.

A new question —added to the many that’ve appeared since you accepted you’re in some other reality— popped on your mind, if so many things in their world are similar to yours; people, social functions, historical events, what was so different that led yours not having superheroes and vigilantes? There’s no Gotham, no Metropolis, no Star City, nothing.

Did this mean they simply do not exist, or they just didn’t want to make themselves known? Here, everything started with Superman. If he existed in your reality, what made him not want to help people? Had he been captured by the government instead of the Kents? Had his ship landed someplace else? Are there other planets out there?

So many questions, so many possibilities, not a single answer.

The book authors are the same as your world; Tolkien, Crichton, Austen… Not just a coincidence in people here writing books with the same title, so it begs the question of a point you mentioned last night.

Does this mean there's another version of yourself in this world? Is there a different version of them in yours?

“You alright?”

It didn’t matter how many times you would hear that voice, it will always send shivers down your body, making your heart skip a beat. Turning around towards the voice, the early morning light deluged him in a pink-golden light, water droplets falling to the floor, he was only dressed in black pants and a tight black shirt that didn’t seem comfortable, his muscly arms threatening to rip it apart.

His unnaturally vibrant green eyes were more focused on the book you were holding —Little Women— rather than your face.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You replied, putting the well-loved copy of the book back in the shelf. “What about you?”

“Yeah, same.” He sat down on the couch, legs spread and elbows resting on his knees. “Hard to do so when you learn your whole life is a lie… Just ink on paper.”

“I don’t think it is.” With long strides, you sat down next to him, an ample space left between you two. “The fact that you’re here with me discussing about this mess should mean that you’re more than just a puppet created to entertain. You’re a human being, with feelings, thoughts, ideas… Who knows, maybe someone from your world came to mine and wrote your life story.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, of course. If you were simply the mere product of a writer, how could I be here, when I’m not?” This whole time he’d been looking at the floor, lost in his mind, finally turning to look you in the eyes. “I’m as lost in this as you are, but the one thing I’m certain, is that you’re real, Jason. As real as the moon and the stars.”

It was immensely evident something continued plaguing his mind, his eyebrows drawn and eyes unfocused, you knew how lost he must feel like, having felt the same just the night before, but whatever conclusion he came to, his face searched yours once again, a tired, tight smile on his face.

----

Breakfast had been a chaotic affair, having to explain to the rest of the family present in the house what endured after you woke up in the cave, Tim and Cass having long gone to sleep after they were sure you were safe.

“So, we’re not real?”

“You are, just not in my world. At least not like this.” Your meal had long gotten cold, being bombarded with questions that left you no time to take a bite. “There are no vigilantes there. Also, I’m sorry, Tim.”

“What for?”

“I thought you were delusional.”

Everyone in the table laughed, with Tim throwing you a harmless glower, even Alfred coughing to hide his smile.

“This is intriguing.”

You nodded at Cass’ response, at last grabbing your fork to eat your cold scrambled eggs, attempting not to make faces at the taste.

“So…” Tim spoke once again after refiling his cup of coffee for the third time. “Everything that we’ve suffered, is all just because someone wrote it?”

All eyes were laid on you, your face pale and mouth dry suddenly.

You couldn’t say no, because you still didn’t know how this worked, and you didn’t think you’ll ever find out, was your world shaping theirs, or was it theirs shaping the stories you were shown?

But you also didn’t want to say yes, because that would mean…

Unconsciously, your eyes wandered over to Jason, eyes locking for a second, his neutral demeanor changing into a raised eyebrow.

“Why did I die?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Cass raised a brow as well, her words clipped. “You’re lying.”

It was way better when you still thought they were just crazy, with no interrogations to interrupt your breakfast.

“There… There was a poll.” Avoiding everyone’s faces, you spoke to the table, voice as small as possible, however, with them being the detectives they were, they still could make out your words, if the gasps were any indication.

“A poll?” Jason reiterated, outraged. When you looked up, green eyes filled with hate was the only thing you could focus on. “A poll to decide my fate? A fucking poll?”

“I—Jason, they—”

“They what? Why would they do something like this!?” His eyes were glowing, hands closing into fists. “I was fifteen! Why would you do this? Who the fuck would think of killing a teenager!?”

“Wh—Me!?” You stood up, chair dragging behind you. “Jason, I wasn’t even born when that happened! And—and from what I read; they didn’t even think they’d do it.”

“Oh, and that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

Tears were prickling your eyes, mouth left hanging open. He had every right to be angry, everyone would, however the hate directed to you was unwarranted. The rest of them were looking at you, faces unreadable, except Dick’s, his eyes red, but whether it was for the current situation or remembering Jason’s murder, you didn’t know, maybe it was both.

It was clear none would come to your rescue, too disgruntled and sorrowful on Jason’s behalf.

“What do you mean you weren’t even born?” Tim asked, his investigative soul winning against his feelings. Or maybe this was his way to deal with the pain. “You’re Jason’s age, you were fourteen.”

Sniffing, you cleared your tears with the sleeves of your shirt. “I don’t know how time works here. That happened in the… The eighties, I think. I was born in the 2000’s.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.” He mumbled. “The years…” And without another word, he left the kitchen, quickly followed by Jason, although taking another path.

“Jason, wait.”

But your words fell on deaf ears. You hadn’t known Jason for a day, and he already hated you.

“I’m sorry.” Apologizing for everything you’d done and everything you didn’t, you walked out the kitchen as well, not a clear destination in mind.

[kydrogendragon]

Forehead Kisses

Requested by @introvertbibliophile!! This was a cute and wholesome one to write, so we'll end our day of Birthday Prompts with this!! Thank you and thank everyone for all the requests! It was fun to have something like this to work on and I can't wait to see how y'all enjoy them!

Relationship: Hob/Dream Words: 2233 Warnings: None Ao3 Link

The room inside was dark. The curtains were pulled over the windows, blocking out the sunlight. The only light within was from the bright screen of Morpheus's laptop. Hob leaned against the door frame, watching his husband kill his back from his gremlin seating posture. His legs are tucked underneath himself, his spine curved in a way he knows the chiropractor would have a hernia over. He glared down at the word document in front of him, his hand swiping across the keyboard in such speed that it hurt Hob's fingers just to look at.

He stood there, listening to the furious clacking of keys for a moment before making his way over to the desk. His sock-clad feet were silent over the hardwood floors as he approached. Morpheus hasn't even so much as twitched by the time Hob was standing just off to his side. 

He wasn't surprised.  Morpheus had a tendency to get invested in his work. When he was truly in the zone, he describe it and everything else fading away.  He couldn't hear or see anything beyond the words on the page and the story unraveling in his head.

Hob turned, looking over at the once clean desk that housed Morpheus's work. He claimed that for planning, having physical papers to move and manipulate were better. It made the area much more cluttered, however. Beside stacks of papers, sticky notes, and sketches, dishes and mugs were scattered within.  Hob shook his head gently and grabbed the dirty dishes, leaving the coffee cup from this morning (he still doesn't understand how his husband can tolerate cold coffee) and the water bottle covered in stickers from their travels.

It was only when Hob stretched his arm across the screen of his laptop to fetch the remaining glass that Morpheus finally looked up from his work. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the dark environment. "Hello, Hob," he says, that gentle smile on his face as he leans his head into Hob's soft belly. 

Hob chuckles and leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of Morpheus's inky black hair. "Hullo, Love. Just grabbing dishes, don't mind me." He shuffles the glasses and dishes in his hold to make room for the extra mug. "Dinner's on. Should be ready in an hour. Sound good?"

Morpheus hums, pressing his nose into the soft cashmere sweater. "Sounds excellent. What are we having?" His voice is rough from disuse. Hob's not sure when he last heard his husband speak save early this morning. He had barely left his room today. The first draft of his next book was due soon and his husband, ever the perfectionist, was determined to get it right.

"Beef stroganoff and carrots. Figured that'd be a safe choice for you." 

"It is. Thank you, husband mine. I will see you in the hour." Hob chuckles as Morpheus leans back into his usual writing position.

"Can't convince you to take a break early and join me in the kitchen in the meantime?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

To Morpheus's credit, his hands twitch and don't immediately start tapping again.

"I-" His husband starts, his eyes flickering between the screen and Hob's face. "Perhaps, once i finish this chapter, I could join you early. But..."

Hob waves away his concern with a smile. "Don't even sweat it, my love. Just focus on your writing. I'll see you for dinner." He presses one final kiss to the top of his head before heading out of his husband's office, closing the door behind him.

It's only after dinner has finished cooking and the tiny colony of dishes and mugs are cleaned (some soaking from the multiple day old coffee) that Hob knocks on the office door once more.

Morpheus hasn't moved in the hour, though the laptop has been tilted to the side and one of his notebooks rests off to the right. Clearly, he'd either been referencing something or he'd been adding to his never ending collection of notes. Hob walks up and rests his palms over each of Morpheus's shoulders and presses in. He kneads into the tense muscle and bony shoulders causing his husband to moan, his hands freezing in place. Hob chuckles to himself as he leans forward to press a kiss to his temple.

"Hey Dove, dinner's ready." He mumbles against the silk soft skin just below his hairline. Morpheus hums, leaning into his touch. His hands fall from the keyboard and into his lap. Hob smiles against his skin and continues his gentle massage, thumbs swiping up and down the back of his neck. His husband groans, pushing back against his touch. He'll have to set this man down for a proper massage soon. Maybe after dinner. He was far too tense after such long sprints of writing this last week.

They stay there, relaxing in the moment, when Hob sighs and gives Morpheus's shoulder a final pat. "Come on, let's get some food in you, yeah?" 

With a resigned, Morpheus leans forward and slides out of his seat. Even from here, Hob can hear the cracking and creaking of his bones. Yup, definitely doing a massage after dinner. Maybe a nice hot bath too, if he can pull Morpheus away from work long enough.

Hob holds out his hand which his husband takes eagerly. With a smile, he leads the pair of them out of the dark office and into the comfortably dimmed dining room. He's learned over the years that when Morpheus goes through spurts like this and he's spend too long being a cave creature in his dungeon, the soft light is acceptable. Morpheus takes a seat and Hob leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead, then nose and cheeks which earns him a nose scrunch that he loves so much, and finally to his lips. Morpheus hums against him. 

"Thank you for dinner, husband mine," Morpheus whispered against.

"Always, love."

Hob takes his seat and gazes lovingly over his water glass at the man he has the privilege of calling his. 

[luvh4nji]

𝐍𝐂𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 + 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐒

warnings: none!! that i can think of. good luck for everyone doing exams this week!! <3

mark ; honestly, he's the type to end up doing whatever you have to do for you. he doesn't like you seeing doing everything on your own and he wants to help you whenever and wherever he can, so he'd sit next to you, watching you write down your notes and complete study guides before asking you if you want him to do anything. and if you say yes, he just ends up doing everything. he'd take your computer and end up doing all your homework for you, completing every problem and paper for you to look over and turn in.

renjun ; very much the type to sit with you and actually try to help. and succeeds. renjun's the type to sit with you and read out flashcards for you, leaning in to give a kiss every time you get one right. he's the type to talk you through a math problem and ruffle your hair lovingly when you get one right without his help. he's the type to run out and get you coffee and a sweet treat from the nearest cafe. truly the best boyfriend <3

jeno ; only lets you get any work done if you're doing it in his arms. okay, so you need to study, who said you couldn't do that while cuddling? he'd have his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest while you sit between his legs, notebooks and computer laid out in front of you. definitely the type to look over your shoulder and ask genuine questions about what you're doing and studying, humming in acknowledgment to your answers. and he doesn't know it, but the questions help you memorize the information because you have to explain it thoroughly to another person. truly the best study buddy 10/10 <3

donghyuck ; very much a severe distraction. and it's definitely on purpose. he's the type to lay all over you, his hands on your thighs, shoulders, anything he can reach, trying to pull you away from your work. "c'mon, babe, you've been studying for hours. jus' come cuddle for a few minutes. i'll order some takeout and we can watch a movie, huh? doesn't that sound nice? and then you can come back with a clear head." and, honestly, his voice is just so sweet and deep and reassuring that you can't help but agree, letting him wrap you up in his arms and carry you to bed <3

jaemin ; sweetest boy in the world just wants to take care of you, but he knows you need to do this and actually absorb the information, so he resigns to just sitting next to you and does his own work that he needs to get done <3 however, if you ever ask for help or need him to get something, he is on it immediately. he just absolutely loves taking care of you :( he'll go get you snacks from the convenience store down the street to surprise you when you're finished, he'll do flashcards with you, giving you a sweet kiss every time you get one right :( and he looks so proud when you do, his eyes all soft like he's thinking that's my brainy baby.

chenle ; really does not seem like the type to actively help you. rather, he'll just sit in the same room as you and play games on his phone while you work. lele really seems like the type to let you get your work done without intervening because he doesn't want to come off as annoying or trying to distract you. but he will get a little worried if you've been working non-stop for a few hours :( he's the type to bring you some fruit and water and pet your hair, leaning over your shoulder to look at your notes. "you're doing a great job, honey. i'm proud of you." but he can't go without teasing you a little bit, so he presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek, giggling when you groan and go to wipe it off.

jisung ; poor boy tries his best. seems like the type to really try his best to help you through your studies and make sure you get the best grade possible, but he ends up distracting you more than anything else. the type to keep offering for you to take breaks and get something to eat or take a bath so you can mentally recharge, but he doesn't realize that's he asking to do these things every 10 minutes. eventually he'd just sit next to you keep his hand on your thigh so you know he's there to help whenever you need it.

[anawrites3]

Hi!!! I love your writing its awesome! Have you got any thoughts on how the dynamic between Slade and Dick would change if they were already in an established relationship when Bruce "dies" and Dick is Batman?

Aww, thank you so much, love!! That makes me so happy! 🥰🥰

Oh, their relationship would change a lot with Dick being the Batman. Dick would be running himself ragged every night and every day, trying to keep Gotham safe and doing what he can to stop his family from tearing each other's throats out because suddenly everything is going to shit and everyone is fighting.

Now Dick doesn't have time to eat, doesn't have time to sleep. When he finally sees Slade, he just kisses him and leaves to deal with another rogue.

"Oh. Slade." Dick stopped half-step and blinked up at him. It spoke a lot of his state, if he didn't hear Slade getting in. Slade looked him over without a word. His little bird was wearing Batman's suit and he seemed to almost drown in its huge form. There were bags under his eyes, as if he didn't sleep for at least a week and Slade wouldn't even be surprised if he really didn't. Slade wondered when was the last time he ate a solid meal and not just some protein bars or dry cereal. There was also a wound dressing on Dick's cheek, a stitched cut on the other one. "Little bird-" Dick smiled at him, a tired little thing and walked closer, to press a kiss against Slade's cheek. "I have to go now, baby, I'll see you later." He said, and before Slade was able to say anything else, Dick slipped the cowl over his head and walked out through the window. Slade watched him go with hands curled into fists, forcing himself not to punch out a hole into the wall.

Slade lets it happen the first time but he spends the next few days in Gotham, patrolling where no one would see him. Helping Dick however he can because his little bird has enough on his plate, especially with trying to raise Bruce's assassin kid.

But then, instead of it getting better, it's just getting worse and worse. Slade would deny it til the day he dies but he's a big softie and especially for Dick, and he stops taking contracts so he can focus on helping Dick and making sure his little bird stays alive.

Slade makes sure Dick eats. He prepares the meals for him himself and sits with him to make sure that Dick will actually eat it. He forces Dick to sleep, even for a short nap - and when Dick is too stressed to pass out, Slade fucks him and help him relax. He patrols Gotham by his side.

And Dick feels so bad with all of this because yes, they're dating but Slade didn't sign up for something like this. He will try to break up with Slade and Slade won't let him.

"I want to break up." Slade slowly looked up from the files he was reading over. If he was surprised, he didn't show it in any way and Dick hated how good he always was with hiding his emotions. Dick wondered if maybe Slade already knew that Dick would say that. Maybe he wanted to bring it up himself but didn't know how to, without being too big of a dick about it. Dick really couldn't blame him for it. But then Slade just looked back down at the documents in his hands. "No." He simply said.

Then they will fuck nasty about it :3 and afterwards, when they're laying together in bed they will have a serious talk about everything. Dick for sure will have an "Oh" moment when he realizes that Slade wants to do all that for him and that he really really loves him 🥰 After that, keeping Gotham safe will be easier for everyone and not long after that Bruce will come back.

The first thing Slade does after Bruce's return, is taking Dick away on vacation somewhere warm <3

This wasn't meant to be so long lmao but I couldn't stop myself from adding those little writings haha, yeah so basically before Batman Dick their relationship would be more casual, with them having dates and Dick spending a lot of time in Slade's safehouse in Blud and then after Dick becomes Batman, it will become more, they will both live in Manor and Slade would be taking care of his birdie in every possible way he's allowed 🥰

[not-krys]

WIP Wednesday: Second Glance Part 5

I still haven't given up on this despite it being... over two years since the last chapter upload. I want to finish it. I have an outline for it. I have a vague idea of how I want to finish it.

Just getting myself to put in the leg work to do it has proven to be the most challenging thing. Doubts and deep insecurities are pretty rampant with this work as a whole, most of them pretty silly if I think on them for more than a few minutes, but still, two years is a long time to leave a fic hanging.

I think... for a new years resolution for next year, I'll try to finish this chapter in between doing 100 Themes. To get over those doubts and insecurities and put out something I'm proud of. No promises on when the chapters after it will come out, but I want to finish this chapter at least.

So, here's what I've got thus far. Some things might change between this and the final version (I'm still in an internal self debate of where I want to put Mitsunari in this chapter so where he is now might change in the future.) Having fun with the Nobu twins banter and Mitsuhide being Mitsuhide tho.

Raw, unedited writing down below. Little warning about Hideyoshi *ahem* waking up to a surprise (there's a reason this work is rated mature on ao3), some crude language from the Nobu twins, Mitsuhide flirting as always, there's a little random paragraph about Masamune that I meant to incorporate better, but it's just sitting there for now, might be moved to next chapter but I'm not sure.

And also, previous four chapters are up on ao3!

-----

Hideyoshi had awoken before dawn, the sky still clinging to the darkness of the night. The room had grown colder in his fitful sleep, a light plume of heat escaping his lips as he rubbed his eyes.

He'd barely slept that night, a common enough occurrence as of late, but the chill of the room helped to calm the heat coursing through him. Feeling a dampness against his thigh, however, he sighed defeated.

"You're acting like a kid with his first crush." He mumbled as his brows furrowed. "After a single kiss? Really?"

He roughly rubbed his face and hair, trying to wake himself up more.

"I'm not that bad for her."

Hideyoshi grumbled a bit more, cleaning himself off with his handkerchief and went in search of his ward. He wandered down the hall, dawn's early light just peeking over the horizon. His toes felt the chill of the early morning, everything quiet and still.

He paused in front of one doorway, feeling heat escaping through the slightly open screen.

He frowned and slid the door open further, spying your sleeping figure with two little intruders curled up by your sides. One was a tiny monkey that must've escaped her cage during the night (he must've been dead asleep for her to escape unheard he thought), the other a silky grey cat whose ears twitched at his approach, training their purple eyes on him when he got close enough.

The sigh that was on his lips quickly died away when he saw you sprawled on the futon, extra kimonos and blankets thrown askew. An innocent enough display, you got too warm and had unconsciously tried to remedy the situation.

He then started at the sight of your kimono in disarray, the sash barely keeping the garment closed. You were turned to your side, thankfully, but he couldn't help but stare at your barely covered breasts, your legs mimicking a large step with your butt fully on display, and the quiet groans that made his mouth dry.

He did not need this so early in the morning.

Holding his breath, trying his best to not make a sound, he pulled one of the strewn kimonos over you, tucking it in gingerly. Though the room was still warm thanks to brazier in the corner, the thought of someone else finding you in that state made his skin crawl. Something he should not be experiencing, but he was, nonetheless.

He checked you over, to be sure you were decently covered, finding his hand lingering longer on your swollen stomach than anything else. To his surprise, he felt movement against his hand once again, making him sigh.

"Not too much longer," he whispered. "You'll be so spoiled rotten once you're born."

He then turned towards you, still asleep.

"And, sorry, [Name], that I can't love you in the way you deserve."

He gingerly brushed your hair out of your face, placing a chaste kiss on your temple.

"You'll be the greatest mother. I know you will be. Just promise you won't hate me too much, down the line."

With a final tuck, he closed his eyes and stood up, giving you one more glance before exiting the room, closing the door behind him.

He pushed the hair out of eyes again before he heard frantic footsteps.

"Lord Hideyoshi!" Mitsunari called out.

Hideyoshi froze, putting his finger to his lips.

"[Name] is still sleeping," he said quietly, "And what have I told you about run-"

"Forgive me, Lord Hideyoshi," Mitsunari said quieter, "but Oda banners were spotted on the horizon. Along with at least 100 soldiers."

Hideyoshi's eyes widened, then he muttered a curse.

"Go find Mitsuhide and alert the guards." He paused, "and send a few here to guard this room."

Mitsunari nodded and headed off with his orders. Hideyoshi spared another glance back, seeing Uri and Kitty peeking through the door crack.

"Watch over them, both of you."

He then turned his back and headed back to his room, looking at his armor with a frown.

[end scene transition]

---------

"Who said you could bring a battalion with you?!" Nobutaka glared at his brother while the other picked in his ear.

"Best to be prepared." Nobukatsu replied, flicking off the wax from his ear, his breaths coming out in puffs.

"And spending the night traveling to Azuchi was a great plan! I'm freezing!"

"The sun's coming up now. You'll be warm soon enough."

Nobutaka shivered, pulling his furs closer.

"I knew bringing you along was a mistake."

"We've made good time, so shut your hole."

"We traveled ALL night long. In the middle of the spring thaw."

"Good eye. Anything else you want to point out?"

"I'm killing you if I lose any extremities because of this."

"What, you gonna throw your frozen balls at me? They might shatter mid-flight! No chance of killing me that way. You'll have to try harder, dumbass."

Nobutaka growled, but held his tongue. He wasn't about to let his brother's barbs get to him.

"Remember, we're here just to scout."

"I know."

"So you stay with your battalion while I try to figure out that monkey's goals."

"Sounds boring."

"We're not here for a fight. I've told you that multiple times."

"And you keep on repeating as if it'll stick in my head."

"No fighting until I say so. I'll send for you if things turn sour."

Now, Nobukatsu glared.

"Fine. But I won't wait forever."

"You'll wait for as long as I need you to."

"Or what? I just wait until the butt monkey comes to find me with your head on a pike?"

"He wouldn't be that moronic. Either of our heads on a pike means the Oda wages war on him."

"Heh, if only. Makes me want him to pike you."

"You would."

"It'd make my day."

"I'm sure it would."

Both brothers looked ahead, spying the tower of the castle in the distance. Nobukatsu shielded his eyes from the morning light, smirking.

[end transition scene]

------ Mitsuhide moved his head side to side, trying to relieve his stiff neck. No rest for the wicked, he thought with a grumble.

He then spotted Hideyoshi up ahead, staring into the distance, his hand on his sword. Mitsuhide approached quietly, his only sound being his own sword and rifle clinking together.

"It was bound to happen sooner or later." Mitsuhide said, his gaze also looking off into the distance.

"I know," Hideyoshi responded, looking lost. "I didn't think it'd happen this soon."

"Hmm."

Mitsuhide then turned to look at Hideyoshi, sharp golden eyes searching through Hideyoshi's softer tawny eyes.

"So, what are we going to do?"

"Make sure the townspeople are safe, then confront them. See what they want."

"We both know they want you. Your head, more specifically. The assassins made that clear."

"Not me, really. Just the things I'm holding onto. Lord Nobunaga's legacy."

"Hmph, you sell yourself short, Hideyoshi. As always."

"Not in the mood, Mitsuhide."

"You do have the worst talent of calling attention to yourself, you know."

Hideyoshi growled while the other chuckled, shrugging quietly.

"I'll send my men to look after [Name] while we see what the boys are demanding this time."

"I already have guards on standby for her."

"Think of it as making sure she's doubly safe. Lord Nobutaka is cunning while his brother is impulsive and short-tempered. We shouldn't underestimate either of them."

"…Right."

Birds chirped nearby, both men turning and seeing a nest in the nearby tree, a mother with a worm in her beak landing on the holding branch.

"Have you given anymore thought," Mitsuhide mused aloud, "as to what you're going to do with [Name] and her child?"

"That's up to her."

"An Oda son will put an end to all of this squabbling."

"I know."

"And an Oda daughter will be vulnerable without her father. A true game of chance on our hands."

"I know," Hideyoshi repeated. "[Name] will hate me, either way."

"Why?"

"For using her son to stop the noble squabbles over Azuchi… or failing to protect her daughter from being taken into the wrong hands."

-----

"I heard Masamune was making the trip from Oshu as he wanted to meet first with [Name] in time to meet the little bundle."

"Perfect timing if we need his help, but he's still a month early."

"You always harped on him on his magical ability to always arrive late. Maybe he took the message to heart."

"He also promised to drag Ieyasu out of Mikawa with him."

"That'll take him even longer."

[m00nsbaby]

The calendar.

Will Dempsey x F!Reader.

Tags & warnings. Yes, I did this only because I hate this man and I wanted to make him unhappy, lol.

Word count. 2.9k

Summary.

There is simply nothing worst than knowing how it ends.

He had his strengths, unfortunately, socializing wasn't part of that extensive list. So when you, a natural chatterbox, took a seat beside him, he knew he was condemned for the rest of the day.

Will didn't know that you were also terrible at making friends.

"I saw you in the literature class, you did great," you whispered with a smile, adhering to the library's rules, and he sighed, thinking that he only responded to teachers' questions because no one else did.

"Uh-huh."

A few seconds of silence, and you picked up on it. After having five people reject your friendship, you understood the message loud and clear. It seemed you would finish your university career without knowing a single friendly soul on campus.

Although, well, in this case, maybe it was your fault. He seemed a bit older than you. Perhaps the weariness of university life had already consumed his soul or something like that.

You didn't say anything more, you crossed your arms and buried your face in them, close to tears. It was only a few seconds before a tap on your shoulder made you turn.

Without looking at you, the curly-haired guy was pushing his coffee cup towards you, as an invitation.

Did you look that exhausted?

In silence, you took the cup and had a sip. Maybe not everything was so bad.

It became a routine; you didn't say anything when you arrived at his side at the same table that only the two of you shared.

You learned that the two free hours you had between classes were the same ones he seemed to have; you always found him in the same spot, writing as if his life depended on it. Many times, the only sound accompanying you was the noise of his old laptop, whose fan you compared to the engine of a broken-down car.

"I didn't see you in class today." It was the first time in a long time that he spoke to you as he pushed the remainder of his coffee towards you, as usual.

You drank it, trying to hide your surprise at his words.

"I overslept."

He scoffed. And you smiled when you discovered that he had more than just one facial expression.

You figured that the encounter for that day was over because he turned towards his backpack. However, instead of packing things, he seemed to be rummaging through it.

"I'll send you what we covered in class." He wrote on a post-it note before pushing it towards you; his email address was written on it.

Very formal, very him.

And you smiled even more, if that was possible.

With time, things became a bit of a frenzy for you two. Before you knew it, you were in Will's arms, already accustomed to his way of covering your eyes and hugging you from behind.

"Who am I?"

"Mhm, let me guess…" He always laughed when you pretended not to recognize him.

Slowly, he slid his hand from your eyes down your face and rested it on your neck. You knew there were people watching you, there were always people watching you at school.

Maybe everyone wondered what you had given to the quietest and most introverted guy in school to have him so enchanted with you.

Slowly, you turned around in his arms. He pressed you against his chest, and you smiled.

"Do you want to study together tonight?"

Study sessions one day turned into make-out sessions.

"Is this okay?" He leaned over your body to look at your laptop screen.

His body rose and fell with your breath, and you tried not to complain that he was crushing you with the weight of his body.

"Poor wording," he teased, and you realized it when he pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh, and you pushed him.

"I won't ask for your opinion ever again."

"I tell you for your own good." He rested a hand on the pillow next to your head, looking at you with that mocking smile that annoyed you so much.

"You always say that." You pouted.

He leaned further forward, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

"And you keep asking me to review it," he whispered, his huge brown eyes fixed on you.

Your hand rose, and you gently caressed the light beard that began to grow every three days. The same one that tickled you whenever he rested his chin on your neck.

"You're a lousy tutor."

Seconds of silence before he pushed forward, his lips crashing against yours with desperation.

It seemed like Will had been waiting for this his whole life. He was devouring your mouth, claiming it as his own.

This became a habit, meeting every week to kiss until your lips hurt, him squeezing your hip until his fingers were imprinted on you.

All of this under the title of "best friends."

Your story had its ups and downs, needless to say, both of your characters were somewhat special. Because even though you worked perfectly together, you both had too much pride to acknowledge your feelings for each other.

You met his girlfriends; he met every idiot who tried to be with you without realizing that you were too good for losers like them.

You argued, gave each other the cold shoulder on multiple occasions, and reconciled just as many times.

And before you knew it, you were living with him.

Not only that, you had already had an established relationship for about two years.

"Are you going through a phase?" He slid his arms around your waist, and with little force, he pulled you close to his chest as your gaze remained fixed on your phone.

"Can't I listen to One Direction albums on repeat without you judging me?"

"No." Sometimes he was so good in his performances that you had no other choice but to elbow him to take the air out of his lungs.

Still, he laughed.

"Listen, it's a masterpiece." You turned slowly. You placed one of the earphones in his ear, and you kept the other in yours.

As the music played and you hummed along, Will just stared at you. He used to do that often, but he never told you that in the meantime, he was thinking about how lucky he was.

About how he prayed to heaven, to God, to fate, to whatever was listening that life would stay like this forever. With you in his arms and your horrible musical choices.

"It's awful."

You both burst into laughter, and he didn't even complain when you hit him again. Nor did you when he pushed you beneath him, kissing you like a hungry man.

Your shared closet was full of little colorful notes - yellow, pink, green, and orange - and you read each one carefully.

Behind you, Will was biting one of his nails, looking at you as if Jane Austen herself were judging his work.

Exactly 36 minutes passed as you finished your reading, and in the end, you turned to him with a smile that brought his soul back to life.

It turns out that Will had always dreamed of being a writer, and you, better than anyone, had known this since that disastrous afternoon when you first met. In fact, you were surprised that he didn't already have four novels completed, given the speed and desperation with which he always wrote.

"It's perfect, love!" Yeah, it was just a storyboard but you still jumped into his arms, and with the coordination of two people who were born to be together, he lifted you off the ground.

Of course, you supported his dream, even if it meant quitting his job to write full-time. You knew it would be tough, exhausting for you as the primary provider, but in your eyes, it would all be worth it when you saw him dedicate his first book to you.

That had been the deal. You would get the first copy, the first page would clarify how important you were to him (that part was his suggestion), and the book, adorned with his autograph, would be part of the house's decor.

"I can't wait to read it." Your forehead rested against his.

"I love you." He told you all the time, in fact, he had been saying it since you were best friends, but this time it was different.

Special, sincere, and intimate.

Will wanted to tear out his heart and leave it in your hands, like the dramatic writer he had been for years.

And you wanted to take care of it, to take care of his heart, to take care of him, until your time ran out.

"I can't take it anymore, Will." You sobbed in his arms as he gently rocked you back and forth.

The edge of his desk was digging into your ribs every time he leaned forward, but you didn't complain; you knew he was doing his best to console you.

He could only think that it wasn't fair; you were giving up your life to let him fulfill his dream.

It turned out that when you started taking extra shifts, your body began to succumb to physical and emotional exhaustion. You were utterly drained, and in recent days, your boss wasn't making it any easier for you.

"Quit," was the first thing that came to his mind.

And that made you sob even more because you were no longer a child.

Because even though he offered you the easiest way out, you knew when things were possible and when they weren't, and losing your job without a backup plan was by no means an option. That was probably the most frustrating part, not seeing a way out.

Your boyfriend's beard tickled your forehead, and when your breathing synchronized with his, you thought what you always thought. 'This will be worth it someday.'

Will was worth it. Will was worth even more than this, and you knew it. You would never have the strength to ask him to be unhappy again for a little more money.

"We should get married."

Will choked on his cereal, his gaze leaving his laptop for a few seconds.

It wasn't the first time you had made such comments, and although you thought Will was simply too dumb to understand hints, he had decided to start ignoring them.

And he wasn't even sure why. Maybe he had never been attracted to the idea of marriage, maybe part of it made him feel like his youth was slipping through his fingers.

But this time you were too direct to ignore.

"I don't know, love," he scratched his beard, finally pushing his laptop aside.

Lately, you didn't spend as much time together without him writing, without the sound of the keys resonating in your head.

Anyway, his answer was enough to make you swallow hard.

It hurt that he doubted.

"I think we don't have enough money," he cleared his throat with the excuse.

You nodded silently.

That night you turned your back on him, and he unconsciously did the same. He didn't like it at all; in fact, he didn't want to repeat the experience ever again.

"How long are we going to keep this up?" Your voice was almost a cold whisper as you stared at your coffee cup.

Of course, Will had noticed for weeks that things weren't right between you, but by his own choice, he hadn't said anything.

He knew that talking would mean facing many things, maybe hearing from your own mouth everything he had been doing wrong. Losing you.

No scenario seemed tempting to him, so he chose the best way out of all this, pretending that everything was fine, playing dumb when you hinted in some way that things weren't going well. You see, perhaps Will's worst flaw was being selfish.

He could see you losing yourself over time, little by little, every day more, rather than letting you go. Letting you be happy somewhere else.

"Keep what up, love?"

Life was weighing you down. Your job, your relationship, feeling stuck in the same place. And on occasions like these, he reminded you that you weren't ready either.

You didn't have the strength to argue.

Your eyes were tired of the constant burning of tears.

You simply shook your head, and your boyfriend's heart returned to its normal rhythm.

He didn't know how long you would hold up like this, but at least for today, things would stay as they were.

You would sleep in his arms, and he would pretend that hugging you tighter was just an involuntary move and a way to silently comfort those sobs that you always thought would never wake him up.

Sometimes you felt like you were just exaggerating. That you, like all couples, were simply going through a rough patch.

Will was the same. He always was.

The one who made you laugh, the one who saved his last sip of coffee for you, and the one who promised to share his dream of a lifetime with you, which you confirmed on an ordinary Saturday.

He invited you to dinner and temporarily got rid of that beard that always scratched you when you kissed him. He took you to the movies and let you choose the film.

You made out in the last row of seats like teenagers with little time alone, and you laughed out loud when your lipstick ended up completely on his now swollen lips. And things only got better at home.

Yes, you were one of those ridiculous couples who had matching pajamas, and that night, after many, you wore them at the same time.

"I love you." Your stomach fluttered as it had the first time he said it to you, and you kissed his lips until you got tired.

Will watched you sleep, thinking about how lucky he was. He prayed with all his heart that the day would never come when you realized that he would never be worth it, and that unfortunately, living through those terrible ups and downs wouldn't be worth it someday either.

He prayed that you wouldn't notice how his face fell when you proposed the idea of starting a family, or how the excuse of an expensive wedding went to hell when you suggested something small with his family and yours.

Both of you slept on the couch, although the next day you woke up sore, you could ignore many things if Will held you that way with his arms.

Things came to an end exactly three months later when you realized that all the previous times you said, "I can't take it anymore" didn't compare to what it truly meant to not be able to take it anymore.

Will knew it; for a week, it could have been any day.

Still, no matter how much he prepared mentally, it felt like someone was ripping his stomach out when he woke up one day and found you sitting on the couch, a coffee cup in your hand, and your suitcases in front of you.

He thought it was ridiculous that you had to leave your own home, but to the very end, you were thinking of him.

"Don't go," was all he could say, and you looked at him.

You were exhausted.

"I can't stay, Will." You sounded so determined that he almost felt happy to hear you being yourself again. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he heard you speak so firmly.

He wished it hadn't been this way.

"Every morning…" Your voice broke, along with his heart. "Every morning, I feel like I have to put my hands on my chest and check to confirm that I'm alive."

This was precisely what Will had been trying to avoid for so long.

"Please, don't do it," he repeated softly. For a writer of some of the most dramatic stories you'd ever read, he didn't seem to have much else on his mind than this, repeating over and over not to leave.

"Promise me it will be different, and I'll try, Will."

He swallowed hard.

"Make me your wife, make me your everything," you begged through tears.

And he couldn't. He couldn't even walk behind you to stop you as you left, dragging your noisy suitcases.

He knew he would dream for the rest of his nights about that broken hug and painful kiss on the cheek you gave him to say goodbye. And although his ears played him a continuous ringing, something he had only seen in movies, he managed to hear that you said something about taking care of himself.

It tore his soul apart to think that even in the last minute, you were thinking of his well-being, something he had stopped doing a long time ago.

Will's life spiraled downhill, but that's something he had predicted a long time ago. He knew that everything in him depended on you to be okay.

His writings lost their meaning, his novel remained half-finished when he realized that maybe it wasn't worth completing if he wouldn't have someone to dedicate it to in the end.

He always believed that misfortune could bring out the potential in any artist, but unfortunately, he wasn't one of those cases.

He never listened to any songs he recognized from being on the same playlist you used to play on any occasion, and his bed started to feel colder and colder, even in the summer.

The only thing he sometimes liked was that period of time between lying down and falling asleep; he liked to remember.

Sometimes, he even laughed at all those times he begged not to lose you. He wished he had done more than just pray.

[noforkingclue]

Hi, there. Since your requests are open and you write for the 007 franchise, I was wondering if I might request something. Specifically Skyfall era. Maybe something where the reader is a new employee of MI6 (not exactly a field agent but equally important) and of course James fancies her and uses his charm on her. But she plays hard to get until she can't take it anymore and gives in.

Sorry if it's really specific. Please do your best. I know I'll love it!

Thank you!

Note: requests are currently closed

Aww thank you! I hope you do like the fic :)

Title: Just One Evening

James Bond tag list: @mxacegrey

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

You looked to the side and frowned as you heard the door to your workshop open and close. People tended not to venture down there. The only regular person was Q and those shoes definitely didn’t belong to him. Handmade, expensive, freshly polished and most definitely belonging to a 00 agent.

The shoes belonging to the agent came to a pause by the car you were working on. Only your legs were visible and you paused as you waited for the agent to make his or her next move. After a second the agent walked to the front of the car and used his foot to drag out the mechanical creeper you were using. You folded your arms and looked up into the face of James Bond. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“007,” you said coolly, “Q isn’t happy with you.”

“Isn’t he.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“When it comes to Q I rarely am.”

You were one of the mechanics working for Q Branch. Despite only recently joining you had quickly become one of Q’s most reliable employees and the one who didn’t mind working on the mostly destroyed cars that the 00 agents brought back. It was a messy job, with all the oil and grease, but someone needed to do it. You blinked in surprise as you realised that Bond was holding out his hand.

“Aren’t you afraid of getting your suit dirty.” You said

“I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sure you have.”

You narrowed your eyes at his nails, trying to see you if you see blood under them. However, much like all 00 agents, he seemed to be meticulous with how he presented himself. He gestured towards you again and your lip twitched as your grasped it. You let out a gasp as he easily pulled you to your feet and you stumbled slightly. Bond wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Easy,” he said, his lips brushing against your cheek, “Can’t have you falling over can hurting yourself.”

“And why not?”

“Q won’t be very happy.”

“There are other mechanics.”

“But none that he keeps such a close eye on.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Bond’s grip on your waist tightened for a second and you swiftly pushed him away. You folded your arm as a surprising awkward silence fell between you. Bond was always so charming and smooth. Someone who had an answer for everything and seemed determined to win you over.

“He seems protective of you.”

“And you sound jealous.”

“Maybe I am.”

“There are plenty of other people who I’m sure would be more than happy to spend the night with you.”

“And there’s no one else I’d rather keep seeing again than you.”

You blinked at the sincerity of his words. Bond put his hand back on your hip and he leant down, brushing his nose against yours.

“All I’m asking is dinner.” he said

“Fine,” you said with a roll of your eyes, “But you’re paying.”

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

Fic Stats Meme

Rules: Give us the links to your fics with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and your fic with the least amount of words.

One more thing I was tagged in by @materassassino, even longer ago, because these past two days I've just. Really been in the mood to clear out some of my drafts and do fun stuff?

Most Hits: Make A Wish (Young Avengers) - 17,527 hits

Wealthy scientist Nate Richards has been shot, and the legendary sapphire he owned stolen. Noh Varr, a private investigator, is hired—not to track down his killer, but to exonerate one of the suspects. It all gets much messier than he'd expected.

This is a Young Avengers noir AU that I wrote for the Young Avengers Reverse Big Bang and one of my very few attempts at first-person narration, and frankly its hit count mystifies me. I guess people re-read it a lot or something? I'm glad that it has staying power, I'm just puzzled.

Second Most Kudos: Lay That Heavy Trick On Me (Guardians of the Galaxy) - 1,248 kudos

The Guardians take a job robbing an expensive resort, and their floorplans indicate that the best access point to get to where they need to be is in the honeymoon suite. Which means that two of them need to play like they're married. Peter's not quite sure why he has to be one of the lucky newlyweds. Drax doesn't understand subterfuge. Gamora just keeps laughing at them and it's terrible.

This was actually my most kudos'ed story until fairly recently, when it was overtaken by hard work. It's a fun story--not my best, but it's in a much bigger fandom than I normally write for and it has a couple of super-popular tropes in it, so I suppose it's not so weird that it's up there stats-wise.

Third Most Comments: Gaiden: Neo-Heisei Kamen Rider (Kamen Riders W through Zi-O) - 133 comment threads

Not bothering with the summary because this one's a collection of short pieces, mostly from Tumblr prompts, and it's got 108 chapters. Some people comment on every piece they read! It's very gratifying!

Fourth Most Bookmarked: Lay That Heavy Trick On Me (Guardians of the Galaxy) - 297 bookmarks

"Heavy Trick" again! I mean, for real, this one used to be my leader in everything, for a while it was by far my most popular fic.

Fifth Most Words: Into The Black (Young Avengers/Firefly) - 44,537 words

Mercenary space captain Kate Bishop's got a loyal crew (mostly), an unreliable space ship (hey don't you say that Dawn's Archer is perfect), some unresolved anger issues (some faces that need grinding that is), and a lot of moral gray areas that she likes to play around in as she roams the galaxy, taking whatever jobs she can find. When her ship takes on some unusual passengers, however, everything goes completely off the rails.

This one--my tragic forever-unfinished Young Avengers/Firefly mashup--is genuinely surprising to me. I had no idea I'd written so much for it. I ought to be honest with myself and everyone else and update the tags/summary/chapter count to indicate that it's unlikely to ever be completed, but I haven't got the heart. And who knows, maybe at some point I'll rewatch Firefly and re-read YA Vol 2 and get inspired for it again. As I recall, the next chapter I'd had planned before I got distracted was the "Objects in Space" one, which was going to have Deadpool as the bounty hunter.

Fewest Words: various fandom poems

Discounting my few podfics, which naturally have low word counts because they have no words, I have 12 poems up on AO3, 9 of which are between 100 and 200 words. It doesn't seem pointful to link any specific one, they're all short.

---

Instead of tagging anyone I hereby encourage literally anybody who read this far and who has fic up on AO3 to do it, it's an interesting exercise. For me it's also very funny--I've been posting fic to AO3 since 2012, so with the way these questions are scaled they tend to duck around almost all of my most recent work and hit the older stuff that's been up longer and had more time to accumulate numbers. My AO3 account is a bed of oysters, and these are their little embarrassing pearls.

[corrodedseraphine]

playlist | #7 she'll be right here in my arms

pairing: eddie munson x henderson!reader

summary: Just when you thought the boy you were in love with all through high school was gone, he suddenly reappears as your little brother's friend. Fate has once again decided to join your paths, however, everything turns out to be a bit complicated. Will Eddie Munson's sudden return to your life bring with it even more changes?

TW: Mentions of fighting and accident, injuries

the story is also avaliable on ao3

masterlist | eddie munson masterlist | general masterlist

song which I used: HIM - Right Here In My Arms

No comment from me this time!

Despite the fact that Eddie was sitting at the Hellfire table at lunch as always, his spirit was completely absent. He paid no attention at all to the conversation that the rest of the members were having. Leaning over he kept writing something and scribbling in his notebook.

"I'll never believe you're doing homework, so why don't you tell us what's more important to you than our new campaign?" Gareth finally asked.

"Nothing." Eddie muttered in response.

"Yeah, sure" The boy quickly snatched the notebook out of Eddie's hands, who immediately jumped to his feet wanting to snatch it back from him.

She's smiling like heaven is down on earth Sun is shining so bright it hurts All her wishes have finally com true Her heart is weeping. Happiness is killing her.

She'll be right here in my arms So in Love She'll be right here in these arms She can't let go

So hard she's trying But her heart won't turn to stone She keeps on crying But I won't leave her alone She'll never be alone

She'll be right here in my arms So in Love She'll be right here in these arms She can't let go

"Is this a dream? Did Edward 'I hate everything related to love' Munson just wrote a love song?"

"Give back my notebook, retard." Eddie hissed embarrassedly and tucked the notebook deep into his backpack so that no one else would be tempted to take it.

"Who's the girl who managed to pierce the ice layer on your heart?" laughed Mike.

"Dude it's obvious that y/n" everyone turned towards Dustin in shock. It was no surprise to them that it was about you, but the fact that it came out of your little brother's mouth was.

"I don't have a crush on your sister Henderson." Eddie lied in an attempt to defend himself. He felt like he was under fire.

"Your feelings for her are so obvious they can be almost touchable." The boy concluded while sipping his juice.

"So, Eddie is in love with your sister, and you are okay with it?" Jeff asked.

"I have two options. Be deathly offended at Eddie and lose my friend or..."

"Or?"

"Help him open my stupid sister's eyes and get rid of this Neanderthal Craver from her life. She's already so much happier around Eddie and they haven't even started being together yet."

"Don't call your sister stupid." Munson mumbled.

"Oh my god," Dustin groaned. "Is that really all you heard from what I just said?"

"Does it matter? I don't have a crush on your sister, and even if I did I wouldn't do anything. It's not right."

"The last time Tiffany was at the Hideout with her boyfriend you didn't mind when she dragged you to the bathroom." interjected Gareth.

"Yes, but y/n is not some random girl from the Hideout."

"So you admit you have a crush on Dustin's sister anyway?" asked Jeff with a grin.

"Fuck you!"

"Besides, since when did Eddie "fuck the rules" Munson become so sensitive?"

"Say one more fucking word and your character won't survive the first five minutes of the next campaign." At first when the topic started he was simply embarrassed by how easily they saw through it. Now the embarrassment was turning into annoyance. All the rest of them were incredibly amused, but from his perspective the situation wasn't all that fun. He couldn't cope with the constant internal battle between his desires and how he should behave toward you. On the evening of your birthday, he promised himself that as long as you were in a relationship he would not cross the line no matter how much it hurt him.

"Since we have Dustin's blessing, we can help you somehow." Gareth said, smiling sinisterly. Before Eddie had time to say he didn't want their help, his friend put his hands to his mouth.

"Hey Buckley!" he yelled drawing the attention of everyone in the cafeteria.

"Not so loud, or someone will think I'm hanging out with freaks!" she said, walking over to the table and squeezing in between Gareth and Eddie. "Just kidding. What's up losers?" she asked with a smile.

"What are you doing Thursday night?" he asked.

"I have no plans." she shrugged her shoulders.

"Why don't you come to our concert at the Hideout? Be sure to bring y/n with you, Eddie has written a new song, I'm sure she'd love to hear it."

"You won't make me play that song asshole!" for the first time in their lives, they all had a chance to see their Dungeon Master in such mess.

"Oh, of course you'll play it." said Robin pulling out her phone. "I'm just texting y/n that we've been invited to the first listening of Corroded Coffin's new hit, you don't want to disappoint her do you?"

"I hate all of you, you can be sure that I will kill you all with a smile on my lips once we start the new campaign." He pointed his finger at each Hellfire member in turn. "And you? I don't know yet, but I'll definitely get my revenge." He pointed to Robin.

"You should be thanking us!" she laughed. "See you on Thursday Eddie. I'm sure your song will be amazing!" 

Why were all the thoughts in his head so loud all day? Why couldn't he just turn them off? It would have been so much easier, because at that moment even the loud music from his headphones couldn't silence them. However, it effectively silenced his surroundings so when he felt someone's hand clamp down on his arm he jumped up.

"Jesus H Chist!" he shouted, placing his hand on his rumbling heart. After a moment, there was already a dog sitting on his lap, which he immediately began petting.

"Sorry," you chuckled. "I didn't mean to scare you." You said, sitting down next to him on the pier at Lover's Lake. "Am I disturbing?"

"No, of course not." he said pulling his headphones out of his ears.

"What are you doing here? Are you waiting for someone?" you asked.

"Nope, I just came to sit and look at the sky." He pointed with his head to the starry area above you. "And what are you doing here? Isn't it a little late for taking a walk?"

"I needed to air out my head a bit, too many thoughts." You laughed nervously.

"I understand." he replied. "So wanna sit together?"

"Sure."

At first silence fell between the two of you. Later, after that, the conversation began to develop on its own. Unbeknownst to you, the two of you had drifted into the subject of your years together in high school. Recalling everything, talking about people from your yearbook, laughing at teachers you both hated, you felt comfortable around him. Even too comfortable because it caused you, when Eddie recalled how one of the cheerleaders once tried to make him fall in love with her just to have access to free pot, to make a confession out of your mouth that no one expected.

"I was so damn jealous then!" you replied with a laugh, and only after a moment did you realize what you had said.

"Jealous? Jealous of what? You know that if you just asked I would give you my shit for free." he looked at you with a puzzled expression on his face.

"It wasn't about the weed, stupid." you replied, thankful that it was night and he couldn't see your face turn all red. "About you. I had a hopeless crush on you all through high school."

"You what?" he asked, unable to shake off the shock. Why are you telling him only now? At least two years too late? He felt like jumping into the lake and drowning in it, because this information did not help him one bit. On the contrary, it made his situation seem even nastier than it is.

"It's stupid, I know! God, I never thought I'd say it out loud." You hid your face in your hands, but he quickly with his pulled yours away and, without letting them go, began to speak.

"It's not stupid, I-" unfortunately your phone did not let him finish. Taking your hands from his you took it out of your pocket and answered it.

"Mom called, I have to go back." you said taking Naveen from his lap.

"Do you need a ride?" he asked, not wanting to separate from you.

"No, it's okay." you replied.

"Take care of yourself, 'kay?"

"You too Eddie, see you Thursday!" you waved him off and turned toward the way home.

All through high school I was hopelessly in love with you. He had never wanted to turn back the time so much before, keeping his knowledge from now. Maybe then he would dare to make a move.

Corroded Coffin spent all Tuesday and Wednesday preparing a new song. When Thursday rolled around Eddie struggled to hold on at school praying for the end. Everyone saw his nervous state and added fuel to the fire by teasing him. Robin at every break did not miss an opportunity to remind him that he was only a few hours away from the performance. When he was finally able to retreat to the comfort of his room, it turned out that it would not do any good. He nervously walked from one corner to the other, unable to find a place for himself. Finally he decided that there was nothing left for him but to sit down and practice a new song. After the tenth time he did the same thing, a loud knock on the door and the ringing of the doorbell echoed throughout the apartment. Surprised, he came out of the room, but his uncle was quicker to open the door for you.

"Good afternoon Mr Munson is Dustin here?" your voice was very nervous. Eddie quickly walked to the door.

"What's wrong?" he asked seeing the worried look on your face.

"Joyce called saying Will didn't come home after school today, Dustin didn't either, both of them don't answer the phone, they don't text back, no one knows what happened." you said entering the apartment. "I thought they might be at your place, that you were discussing something related to Hellfire." You combed your hair with your hand.

"They weren't here today, everything seemed normal at school..."

"What if something happened?" you started walking in circles around the living room wondering where else you could look for them. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind.

"Hey, let's not jump to conclusions." he said grabbing your shoulders mid-step.

"The last time Will didn't return normally from school he went missing, what if it all happens again?" you began to panic. You were convinced that closing the gate had finally ended all interaction with the Upside Down. But what if it didn't? What if it all came back? What if Dustin and Will were once again in danger? All the what ifs were rushing dangerously in your head overblown with worse and worse ideas.

"Y/n, look at me." he said with concern. "I'm sure nothing bad happened, I'll help you look for them okay? Come on." He grabbed your hand and led you out of the apartment.

He didn't want to show you that your stress was getting to him to some extent. Wanting or not, he cared about all his lost hellfire sheep, but not wanting to further worsen your condition he adopted a calm attitude reassuring you from time to time that they would soon be found. Driving slowly through the streets, Hawkins he noticed you nervously picking at the skin near the nails on your fingers. Blood had already begun to pour from one of them. Not thinking much, he covered one of your hands with his own, not allowing you to continue. When he had to take his hand for a moment to change gears after a while it quickly found its way to yours. You'd be lying if you said you didn't like it. If the circumstances had been different you probably would have had other feelings. But now you were mainly focused on the support he was giving you.

The last place you could check out was the forest. As you approached Skull Rock you saw two familiar bicycles, showing them to Eddie you immediately ran in that direction. Fortunately, the two boys were sitting there. The sight of them made you feel relieved, which very quickly turned into rage, but when, approaching them, you noticed that Will had a cut lip and Dustin a pretty big bruise on his face you felt nothing but worry.

"What happened?" you asked hugging both of them at once. "Why didn't you come home, why didn't you answer the phone? Do you have any idea how worried we were? Jesus Christ what happened to you?"

The boys just looked at each other in silence, then lowered their heads down.

"Who did this to you?" interjected Eddie. He had had similar injuries on his face too many times not to guess what had happened. Although the very thought that someone might have done this to them boiled inside him, his voice was calm, so as not to scare them even more.

"Talk to us please." You had to know what had happened and who was to blame.

"Jason..." began Will uncertainly.

"And his stupid friends." finished Dustin. "They laughed at Will again, we stood up to them, but there were more of them." He raised his eyes and looked at you. "Y/n please don't be angry." Your heart was breaking at how scared they were. Children who had dealt with fighting monsters from another dimension now terrified that you could be angry with them.

"I'm not mad at you. I was just very worried about you, afraid that something...dangerous was happening again." They just nodded their heads in understanding. "Let's go home, okay? Come on."

The whole way passed in silence for you. Eddie drove Will first and then you and your brother home. In gratitude, you hugged him goodbye, promising to meet him again in two hours at their concert in the Hideout. Before that, though, you had to stop by one more place. 

You took the keys to the car and as soon as Dustin disappeared into the building you drove straight to Tom's house. Clenching your hands on the steering wheel, your knuckles turned white as you let the anger you felt take over you. You were nervous but not afraid. Confronting your boyfriend's stupid brother was not something that scared you. In truth, he should be afraid of you. On the spot you knocked hard on the door calling Tom's name. When he opened the door for you without a word you squeezed past looking around the house and looking for Jason who was sitting on the living room couch.

"You fucking asshole!" you said walking up to him. "You and a bunch of your brainless friends need to stay away from my brother and his friends, do you understand?" you snatched the phone from his hand and threw it across from the couch forcing him to pay attention to you.

"What the hell y/n?" interjected Tom. "You haven't spoken to me in days and suddenly you show up here yelling at my brother? What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? Your dumbass brother beat up Dustin and Will! Is there still something wrong with ME?!" you raised your voice.

"Apparently they deserved it." Tom shrugged his shoulders. His attitude enraged you even more. He didn't really care even a little?

"I'm done." you said finally. "I've had enough of you and what you've become. I can't stand you anymore. I don't have the strength anymore to keep trying to have a relationship that you don't even care about!"

"What?"

"I'm breaking up with you Tom! This relationship doesn't make sense anymore for a long time. It's over."

"What?"

"Oh my god do you know any other words than what?!" you asked annoyed. "You heard me, it's over, I don't want to be a part of all this anymore. And you- " you turned your eyes back to Jason. "If you do anything to my brother again, I swear I will do everything to make you regret that you were born." Without waiting for a response from either of them, you walked out of the house slamming the door. 

Right on cue, the weather matched your mood. Heavy drops of rain pounded hard and the roof and windows of your car when you got into it. Your emotions found an outlet in crying. Even though you long time ago subconsciously accepted that there was nothing left to salvage between you it still hurt. After all, you spent two years together, of which half of the year was really great. 

Promising yourself that this was the last time you would cry because of him, you moved ahead. The road was empty, which made your foot press the gas pedal a little harder. Still crying, you felt the weight from your heart slowly begin to fall. The rain was getting harder, your wipers could barely keep up with pushing it off the window, and the blurred vision caused by your tears didn't help. Nor did it help when an animal ran into the street. Turning abruptly at the very last minute, the last thing you remembered before darkness took over was a very strong headache.

When you didn't respond to calls and messages from Robin, she and Steve stated that you were probably getting ready and would meet you there. When Corroded Coffin went on stage for the last time she looked at her phone still not seeing any message from you. Surprised, she asked Steve if he had heard from you so he replied that he hadn't and that you would probably be a little late. Unfortunately, when Eddie kept scanning the room with his eyes for the entire show, hoping to see your face somewhere in the crowd, he was met with a smack of reality that you weren't there. He had never had such a hard time playing before. Seeing the empty seat next to Robin, he felt like walking off the stage and returning to his apartment to accept that this meeting didn't mean as much to you as it did to him. He also thought that maybe it was better that you didn't hear the new song. If you guessed that he had written it with you in mind he would have felt like the biggest idiot in the world. He didn't feel very good about the whole thing now either.

"You guys were amazing!" said Robin as they left the stage. Seeing Eddie's lack of response she grabbed his arm. "I really don't know why she wasn't there, she was really excited about this concert..."

"It's fine." he said quietly, concentrating on packing his guitar into its case. Robin, however, was not letting go.

"I've been trying to call her but she's not answering, she's not replying to messages, maybe she lost her phone somewhere again... Steve a did you hear from her?"

"Nope." he said pulling out his phone. To his surprise he noticed that instead of a message from you there was one from Dustin in which he begged him to answer the phone. "But Dustin called me seven times, I'm going to go call him back."

"Eddie, you have to believe me that she didn't leave the concert on purpose. She must have had something really important happen to her that she wasn't here and didn't even let anyone know about it!" He admired her stubbornness, but a part of him wouldn't let him believe it.

"I agree with Buckley." Gareth said.

"Why is it so hard for you to believe that she just didn't want to be here?!" He blurted out. "Clearly she had something better to do than watch some freak on stage." his words were full of bitterness, which definitely didn't please the rest. Robin was already opening her mouth to deny what he said and once again assure you that you would never do such a thing when Steve came back to you. He was all pale and nervously combed his hand through his hair.

"And what happened to you?" asked Eddie.

"I called Dustin and..." his voice half froze in his throat.

"Steve what happened?" Robin rushed him, sensing well the terror that was emanating from her friend.

"Y/n had an accident." He choked out. "She was driving too fast and skidded and hit a tree...They don't know exactly for how long she was in the car before someone passed that way and called the police. She is now in the hospital, unconscious, no contact." he said.

Hearing this, Eddie slumped down in the chair next to him. He would never have expected how much he would have wanted you to simply ditch him. That you weren't here just because you didn't care about him and didn't want to meet him, because the real reason turned out to be a waking nightmare for him. 

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