#I’ll be contacting my friends and mutuals to make sure they see this

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: sweet baby boy drew whos willing to help u, nothing else rly

one | two | three | four | five

authors note: i wanted to give it a sort of “the proposal” / “anyone but you” type of feel !! this is obviously going to be a series so let me know if u want to be added to the tag list from now on so u dont miss an update ! <3

your body freezes in place when you’re asked about the wedding. crap, you forgot. but it isn’t like you received any invite.

“theo sent you an invite through the mail. you got it right?” your friend, leila, asks you. leila and her fiancé theo have been your friends for years now, ever since you met leila during a movie priemere and shared respect on each other's careers. she’s been your closest friend, so theo naturally had to come along too.

“what? yeah,” you lie right through your teeth, and guilt punches you in the face when you stare right into her bright eyes. you raise the cup of coffee. “was literally jumping for joy when i got it.”

leila sighs in relief. “thank god we got the right address,” she says and you question what she means by that before she continues, “we didn’t know whether to send it to your apartment or drew’s.”

your breath is caught and you pause before your drink reaches your lips.

“drew,” you repeat, and she nods.

“yeah, but we figured you’ll both see it either way so, sent it to his place ‘cause theo said it was closer,” leila says, and you raise your eyebrows in amusement. “but anyway! before the wedding, i wanted to stay with our inner circle so if it’s possible for a little two-week vacation? the venue is close to my mom and her boyfriend’s house so we’d just be staying there. i would’ve picked after the wedding if theo didn’t already have the honeymoon planned. he’s too excited.”

“wait, two weeks?” you inquire, “who’s coming?”

she shrugs, “you and drew, libby, gia . . .” she trails off as she thinks about it, and you swallow as you set your cup down. “i forgot who else. i know it’s one of theo’s coworkers but i forgot who. let me text him actually.”

your face lights up at the opportunity to get away, and you nod. “i need to call drew actually,” you say, and she smiles and nods as you stand from your seat and make your way to her living room. “need to remind him to take the . . . fish . . . out.”

“fish?”

“we’re having fish tonight, yeah.”

you turn away to scroll through your contacts until you find his, then click on it. you settle down on the couch as you wait anxiously for him to pick up, and just hope that he does.

just before the call goes to voicemail, the line clears. “yeah?”

“you are such a—!” you hiss quietly, careful not to let leila hear you. “why didn’t you tell me leila and theo sent you a wedding invite for us?”

“i literally just checked my mail, alright? i would’ve said something about it as soon as i saw it,” he tells you. “i just flew in two days ago, y/n. i’m at the . . . i’m not at my apartment right now but my mail’s all on my counter. i’ll look for it once i’m home and then send you pictures of it, okay?”

you know that your situation with drew is slightly complicated. you were together for five years before ending things just a year ago.

because of your careers, you aren’t surprised that people assume you’re still dating. even close friends like leila and theo. everything was kept private. a year into the relationship was when fans even found out about you two.

you both have been looking for a time to address the breakup, to friends first for sure, but with your conflicting schedules, the time’s just never come up, and sending a “by the way, we broke up” text to an imessage groupchat wasn’t totally ideal.

even with the wedding coming up, having to be around everyone while you celebrate your closest friends, how are you either of you supposed to bring it up now?

“okay,” you tell him. “just text me when you’re free. any time before 10, please.”

“okay,” drew’s voice is soft and understanding. the line goes dead and you pull your phone away from your ear, seeing that he’s hung up.

your expected text comes around 8pm. drew’s sent you four different attachments. all are photos of the elaborate and detailed wedding invitation. the designs must’ve been leila’s idea.

you’re surprised to see an incoming call on your laptop right after. you hover over the accept button, then click on it.

his face fills a rectangle of your screen. he’s on his phone—“do you see it?”

“yeah wait,” you mumble, clicking out of the facetime to open your messages with him, then click the first photo. “leila and theo; rsvp by september twenty-seventh.”

“the letter’s addressed to my place but they put our names on the envelope,” drew tells you, and it looks like he’s ruffling through something before he flips his camera to display his counter. on it is the envelope in question, which is addressed to his apartment, but for y/n and drew, it says.

you hum. “are you going?” you ask him.

“of course i’m going. what do you mean?”

you shake your head, “nothing.”

drew only knows of leila or theo because of you, because leila works with you. maybe he’s made friends with theo but it’s not something you’ve personally seen, so you’re just assuming that maybe since you’ve broken up, there’s no reason for him to go? especially when he’s filming soon?

you stare down at your keyboard as you speak again, “leila wants us to come on a two-week pre-stay with her and theo. and others.”

there’s a brief pause from drew, like he doesn’t understand.

you sense it immediately and continue. “like, before the wedding, she told me today about how her mom has his house she wants us to stay in, just a few of us for two weeks, then they have her wedding— i don’t know, i need to ask her more about it. i think she just wants to fly everyone out and spend more time with us before she’s on honeymoon and living the wife life.”

“could be fun,” drew says. “i mean, i can’t even remember the last time i was out with theo or leila. it might be good for us.”

you furrow your eyebrows at him through the screen, and you try to read him to see if he’s joking. “there is no more ‘us’, remember? and by the way, neither leila or theo or anybody else knows that.”

drew hesitates as if he’s trying to justify your situation.

you rub your eye before resting the side of your head against your fist, “they addressed the invitation to both of us, drew. i feel like we should at least tell them the truth so that when we get there, they know.”

drew hesitates, his eyes moving around as if searching for the right words. “yeah, i know. it’s just . . . complicated.”

“complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you say, feeling frustration build up. “it just feels dishonest. they think we’re still together, and if they find out at the wedding, it’ll look like we’re hiding things.”

“we are hiding things,” he reminds you. “we’ve been avoiding the topic. do you really want to drop this bomb on them right before their wedding?”

you go silent as you think about it, because if telling them isn’t a good option then . . .

“what if we just kept up the appearance that we’re still together?” drew suggests. it draws your attention as you look up at your laptop. “for the wedding and the pre.”

you blink, taken aback. “what do you mean?”

“i mean,” drew continues, “what if we act like we’re still together while we’re there? it might make things easier for everyone. seeing us apart will just create tension. people will feel like they’ll need to walk on eggshells around us.”

you give him a skeptical look. “acting like a couple isn’t the same as actually being one. i’m not sure i can just pull it off without it feeling fake.”

“we’re not faking,” drew says gently. “we’re just playing a part for a bit. we’re professionals. it’s literally our job. we can do this for a few days.”

you pause, considering his words. “but what if it just makes things worse? what if pretending just complicates everything?”

drew’s expression softens, and he speaks more earnestly. “look, we’ve been in tough spots before. there’s been so many times on set with you and i before that we’ve had to navigate headfirst. this is no different. think of it as a role we have to play for a short time. it doesn’t change what’s real.”

you sit back, processing his suggestion. “so we fake it for now and deal with the truth later?”

he hums. “it’s not ideal, but it could save a lot of awkwardness and stress. we can be civil and supportive for their sake, and then handle everything after.”

you let out a long sigh, feeling the weight of the decision. “it just feels like a lot of work to keep up a pretense. but i guess if we’re going to do this, we need to at least figure out how to make it believable.”

“we’ll figure it out,” drew says, his voice a little more hopeful. “it’s not about being perfect. it’s just about getting through the weeks without making things worse.”

you nod slowly, still feeling uneasy but recognizing the practicality of his idea. “okay. pretend for leila and theo, and then deal with the fallout afterwards.”

there’s a faint smile on his face as he nods at you. “just two weeks, remember? we can do that,” he says. “i’m gonna head to bed. i’ll talk to you tomorrow about it, alright?”

“okay,” you murmur, and drew hangs up on you.

the facetime window closes and displays your last app that’s been open, your messages. you’re face-to-face with the photos of the invitations once more, and a part of you is overwhelmed with emotions—fear, excitement, guilt.

two weeks. that’s all it is. just two weeks with your ex-boyfriend. you can survive that . . .

right?

[hees-mine]

First time - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung & fem reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, blowjob, handjob, ear licking, cum eating, multiple orgasms, cursing, dirty talk.

Synopsis: wherein your mutual friend decides to approach you in the halls on a random school day, begging you to take his virginity because his friends wouldn’t stop making fun of him for being a virgin at 22. Well, after you’re done with him, he’s going to be the furthest thing from a virgin.

WC: 4,437k

-

“Y/n, please? I thought we were friends. Don’t friends help each other out?” Walking down the school hall, heeseung follows you along like a puppy would, his master hounding you with the same old question he’s been asking you for at least a month.

You scoff and cut your eyes at him.

The audacity of him to try and make it seem like you were friends to what he wanted was laughable to you. You guys were not friends. You knew him through mutual friend groups and occasionally talked with him, but friends was definitely a reach. “Friends?”

“Yes!” He answers so quickly, and it’s shameless how desperate he sounds to you right now.

“Hmm okay for the sake of argument let’s say we are friends how many friends do you know that do what you’re asking me to do?” You humor him pushing open the exit door to your school with him still hot on your tail.

“All of them!” He lied immediately, saying anything at this point just to get you to say yes.

“So not only are you shameless, you’re also a liar,” you tsked. “And here I was actually thinking about doing it,” you say with a tone of disapproval.

“What? Wait, y/n, no, I’m sorry, I lied. It’s just I’m desperate and saying anything to convince you” he takes long strides to keep up with your fast pace. “None of my friends do that but I’m just sick of being the laughing stock of the group” lowering his head he clutches the straps on his backpack and kicks a pebble on the ground sighing loudly.

“Hmm, so let me get this straight: you want me, barely even an acquaintance, let alone a friend, to take your virginity?” You ask just to make sure you’re getting this right.

He nodded his head, and if the silent confirmation wasn’t enough, he gave you a verbal one, too. “Y-you’re the only girl I know, and I trust you,” he mumbles, embarrassed to even admit out loud that he absolutely has no contact with women other than you.

He really has no reason to trust you, but he just does.

Now that you heard him out a little, you kinda felt bad for him, but it was still so out of left field for him to be asking you this. Although you weren’t exactly opposed to having sex with him, you still didn’t want him to regret anything. “So you want me to be your first? Are you sure? Don’t you want it to be special?”

“I’m sure as long as you’re patient with me it will be special” he turns to you you’re already looking at him with a small smile and he gets embarrassed quickly looking away and clearing his throat awkwardly as he pushes up the middle of his eyeglasses.

All you had to do was be patient with him. That in itself could be really challenging for you because, despite his shy demeanor, he was literally the hottest man you’ve ever seen. That coupled with the fact that it had been a while since you had sex, and just the idea of doing it with him was turning you on right now.

The silence drew on while you were in your own head contemplating this, and at this point, he could only surmise your answer would be a no, so he took a preemptive strike and rejected himself. “It's fine if you don’t want to do it. As you can see, no one else wants to, so I’m not surprised you don’t either. I’ll just get out of your hai-“

“Take me to your place,” you said, looking straight ahead as the both of you walked side by side.

“W-what?” He stutters, nearly losing his balance.

Stopping in your tracks, he stops with you, and you turn to him, gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling him in as he nervously eyes your face up close. “Take. Me. To. Your. Place.”

He gulps nodding his head frantically. “It’s that way” he points in the direction and you loosen the grip on his shirt you gesture him to lead the way and every step he takes from then on is one step closer to him losing his innocence.

He’s never been this nervous before.

-

When you both arrive to his house the parking lot is empty meaning his parents are luckily still at work and he eagerly lets you inside leading you upstairs to his bedroom straight away.

“Minimal, I like it,” you note. Once you enter his room, it is very spacious but simple and cozy at the same time.

“Thank you,” he whispers, wiping his sweaty hands on his slacks as he shuts the door and locks it.

You took a seat on the corner of his bed, your eyes scanning the room while you waited for him to join you.

But he doesn’t. He’s stood still by his door. He hadn’t moved a step since you entered his room.

“You wanna fuck standing up?” You tease him for just standing there.

Your voice snaps him out of his nervous thoughts. “W-what I- no unless you want to but I-i don’t really know how” his face is a mixture of confusion and worry as he stands by his door feeling a bit unsure about all this or maybe he was just anxious it’s hard for him to tell right now cause he’s too focused on trying to stop himself from shaking like a leaf.

“I’m joking,” you giggle, and you pat the bed next to where you’re sitting so he can join you. “Come sit.”

“Okay,” he says with a small nod and sits next to you.

No wonder he asked you to be patient with him at this rate it’d be half hour before you even got him to take his shirt off but you didn’t mind easing him into it. “Baby loosen up” if anything his posture got stiffer and he wasn’t even attempting to make eye contact with you anymore. “Would you feel more comfortable if I took my clothes off?” You offer.

Finally, he looks at you, eyes wide and pleading. “Please?”

Read full story on my patreon link

[nadvs]

can we please have sleeping with the enemy rafe finally announcing to his friends (and max) that they’re dating now!! 😓😓 (ps. i LOVE your fanfics🤞)

thank you sm, love!! yes yes definitely 🥰 i had to make it super fluffy i had no choice

based on this fic, continuation of this blurb

after they eat a late lunch at an off-campus restaurant, rafe is relieved that she doesn’t ask him to drive her back to her dorm. now that they’ve put it into words, this mutual understanding that their friendship had at some point become much more, he hates the idea of being apart from her.

and once he realizes that, he also realizes he’s gone soft. because he used to never think stuff like that, like it would actually physically hurt to be away from somebody. but she’s the only one he thinks like this about. and now, he figures he can say this stuff out loud.

“you’re my favorite person to hang out with,” rafe says, his thumb tapping over the steering wheel once he starts up the car.

he cringes at himself. it still feels weird saying shit like that. they usually just crack jokes and tease each other. but when he looks over at her, at how bright her smile is, he knows he’s going to keep saying stuff like that until it feels normal, because it’s worth it if she’s going look at him like that.

he suggests they hang out at the house and she happily agrees. they’re curled up on the couch and while they used to always subconsciously be touching in some way, their contact is much more intentional now.

rafe has his arm around her as they sit together. her knees are drawn up to her chest. the sports channel is always on at the house. on the screen is an nfl player sitting behind a microphone at a post-game press conference.

“you’re gonna hate that,” she says. “the interviews.”

his body always buzzes when she talks like that, like him going pro is inevitable. he’s confident in his skills, but not nearly as sure as her that he’ll make it to the nba.

“you think?” he mumbles, playing along.

“yeah, because you have to be media trained and it will not take,” she teases. “like, imagine you were interviewed about yesterday’s game.”

he squints his eyes, indulging her, thinking back to the win his team secured.

“a reporter asks you what you thought of the other team’s offensive approach,” she says. “what would you say?”

“they played like little bitches.”

“see?” she says with a laugh. “you’d lose all your brand deals in a second.”

“you think i’ll get brand deals?”

“mhm. and lots of girls,” she adds.

“already used to that.”

she slaps his chest.

“i’m breaking up with you,” she jokes.

“so, you finally admit it,” a voice from the top of the stairs says. they look up to see one of the other four basketball players living in the house coming down the steps.

“what do you mean?” she laughs.

“that there’s a relationship to break up,” liam clarifies. “you’re not just friends.”

rafe sighs. liam is one of his friends who never stops fucking with him about how married he is to her. rafe has told him time and time again that they’re just friends.

“yeah, we’re not,” he answers.

“you’re not what?” liam says.

“just friends.”

liam just looks at the two of them as they sit on the couch, blinking slowly.

“wait, for real?” his teammate asks.

“yeah,” rafe nods.

“you’re not denying it?”

“no.”

“i don’t know what to do.” liam scratches his head. “i’ve never gotten this far. uh… finally? congratulations?”

“thanks,” she chimes in.

he looks at them for another few seconds.

“this isn’t a joke?” liam says.

“no,” she answers.

“wow,” he says. “what took so long?”

“you can leave now,” rafe tells him.

“cool.”

she laughs as liam turns and heads down the hallway. the conversation goes about the same way with every other housemate as the news spreads.

eventually, she dozes off in front of the tv. she’s curled up in a ball, her hand wrapped around his bicep, her cheek on his shoulder. he can’t help but take a photo from his vantage point.

when she wakes up, she tells him she should go home. he drives her to her dorm. on the way, she’s scrolling on her phone and sees he posted a story. he hardly ever posts anything.

it’s a photo of her taken just over her head, her eyes closed, lashes resting over her cheeks, hand wrapped around rafe’s arm. it’s a sweet, almost intimate photo.

“wow,” she teases. “you’re going to hard launch me just like that?”

“sure. whatever the fuck that means.”

she laughs.

“you know, guys tend to unknowingly post the worst pictures of their girlfriends,” she tells him. “but this really isn’t that bad.”

“no shit,” he says.

“what, it can’t be bad if you took it?” she guesses, rolling her eyes.

“it can’t be bad ‘cause it’s you.”

she glances over at rafe, watching the passing street lights glowing over his handsome face. is this the kind of stuff he’s been thinking and never saying out loud? they were always honest with each other, but she gets why he wouldn’t say things like that if he thought them. it’s so far from friend territory.

she’s determined to do the same thing. to go back to saying everything on her mind to him, instead of stopping herself from sharing her affectionate thoughts like she’s gotten used to doing.

they share a long kiss before she gets out of the car. when she makes it to her room, she reposts the photo on her story, his account clearly linked. just so there’s no confusion and simply because she’s so giddy, she captions it: boyfriends can take good pics sometimes?

it reminds her of the first night they hooked up and she posted a photo of him shirtless in her room.

eventually, everyone on her squad and every basketball player on the team, including her ex-boyfriend, view the story. it’s crazy how part of the reason she and rafe even got together was for revenge over him. she was shattered when max broke things off, but he inadvertently pushed her towards her best friend.

now, there’s no way anyone can misconstrue things. rafe is her boyfriend. and she’s proud of it.

so, she keeps her promise to herself. she won’t miss any opportunity to tell rafe how much she likes him. she texts him: i’m so so so glad i met you

he replies: only three so’s?

she texts: +5 more so’s

he replies: better

then, her phone buzzes again with a text from him: me too baby. you really are my favorite person

(continuation)

[roseglazedlens]

⦑ a kiss away ⦒✶.*

pairing(s): leon kennedy x afab!reader synopsis: you and leon were supposed to be just friends. until one night, an impromptu kiss changed the trajectory of your relationship. content: smut 18+ only mdni, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, mutual pining, oral (m receiving), p in v, degration, hair pulling READ THE PREQUEL HERE « words: 2.1k┇masterlist┇ao3┇reblogs appreicated! »

You can’t stop thinking about the kiss.

You can’t stop thinking about Leon’s calloused fingers grazing over the plump of your cheek, scorching your skin with hands so cold it reminded you of the rifles you handled during those gruelling winter missions. You can’t stop thinking about how his pupils flared, and you basked in the glazed cerulean of his irises, so clear you could see yourself through them.

Worst of it all, you can’t stop thinking about him.

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. Leon Kennedy is your friend, your best friend. Your first meeting was five years ago on the field, clicked instantly from sharing the same corny sense of humour, and since then, your dynamic with him has been strictly platonic. You told him about all your exes, your sex life in detail, who you dated and when you had your one night stands. Hell, you even told him about your revolting bad habits that you kept secret from your exes. There was no chance this man could fall in love with someone like you, right?

…Right?

Truth is, you valued your relationship with Leon so much that you’re unwilling to risk it. You two connected beyond the small stuff, sometimes you find your conversations take a philosophical turn. You two discussed about life, family, dreams for a better world – it’s not the kind of connection you can find again.

And now you two have shared a kiss.

You were startled by the sound of your ringtone chanting through the Bluetooth speakers of your car, piercing through your train of thought. Your brain assigned autopilot, navigating you home after a laborious mission in the middle of Texas for the past two weeks. Darting your eyes at the screen, you recognised the familiar name on your contact list.

Leon. Speak of the devil.

You clicked a button on the side of your wheel. The ringing stopped, and the line connected. Immediately, you were embraced by a glee in Leon’s voice, but only ever so subtly.

“Hey. Welcome back.”

“How’d you know I’m back?” You gripped the steering wheel, a tiny concern brewed in you, worried he would catch your unusual behaviour.

“Chris told me. He’s surprised you didn’t say anything.”

A deep sigh left your throat from your core. You couldn’t exactly tell Leon that you needed time, time to catch a breath, time to process your yearn for this man. No matter how understanding he could have been.

There was no use hiding – Chris would have told him about your whereabouts if you didn’t. Chris and Leon are close friends after all.

“Can’t get a moment of peace with you two around.”

“Next time, call me. I can pick you up.” Your pulse took a leap. In another time or situation, those words would not meant anything to you. It was just how Leon was, his instincts to help others extended into his personal life too.

“So you don’t fall asleep on the wheel, stupid. Your death will not be on my conscience.”

That earned a giggle in your books. You could tell Leon’s light teasing was an attempt to comfort you, to make you laugh, to hear the snorty chuckle between your lips.

“Don’t worry. If I pass, I’ll make sure to haunt you for the rest of your life. Regardless whose fault it is.” You quipped.

“That sounds wonderful.”

Despite his sarcasm, Leon’s voice warmed at the sound of your laugh. You couldn’t help but appreciate these moments like this with him, and you prayed what you had together would never go away.

“Anyway, get some rest. I’ll bring you some food to your place at eight.”

You appreciated how he remembered that you prefer to stay home directly after a mission. After difficult missions, the presence of people could be daunting and uneasy.

Leon’s the exception.

He always brought a peace offering – a chicken sandwich from your favourite deli, a viral dessert you saw in a store once, your usual frappuccino order with ten customisations… If you want it, he got it for you.

“See you soon.” He hung up and you drove home.

You’re thankful for internalised heating and electric blankets. They’ve became necessities for post mission self-care routine like this one. You scrubbed yourself down, cleansing the scent of blood, grease and dirt that clings deeply to your body. So when you finished, you feel rejuvenated. You napped, checked for new mail, checked for bad food in the fridge and took care of any errands you missed when you had to leave swiftly for the mission.

You waited and waited. It was almost eighty-fourty, with nothing but a brief text that penned “Running late” from Leon. You texted back, no follow-ups, no ‘seen’, no double checkmark. You wondered what was taking him so long, before the bell buzz at your door.

You opened the door, prepared to give him a lecture, just to find Leon with a familiar takeaway bag in his hands.

“No way… Is that…?”

“Yes. It’s from your favourite place.”

“Wait, the one that’s always has a long line…?”

Leon helped himself into your apartment. His hair soaked, it shimmered under the ceiling light of your apartment. He must have waited a whole hour in the rain.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you would be nice.”

You hurried to your cupboard, picked up a fresh towel and handed it to Leon for him to dry off.

“Thank you. I mean it.”

Leon nodded, a gentle grin at the corner of his lips knowing that you’re grateful of his gesture. And you genuinely did. No man, no ex, no friend you knew would do things for you to this extent. With your help, Leon removed his wet jacket and revealed his top also drenched underneath, clinging to every bump, every muscle on his torso. You swallowed deeply, slotting your eyes anywhere but his chest.

“I’ve got spare clothes in the car.”

You insisted on grabbing Leon’s clothes for him, thankful for the opportunity to take yourself away from the situation. You took the keys, and took in some fresh air. Anything to distract yourself from imagining your best friend naked on the top half. You opened the truck, retrieved his spare clothes in his gym bag and returned to your home.

When the door opened, you found Leon with his shirt already removed, revealing those sculpted muscles from the results of his vigorous training.

“Sorry. It gets uncomfortable when it’s sticky.”

You gawked, your eyes planted on the slopes of Leon’s tauted arms, pelvis line drawing a deep v into his crotch. He’s showing off. You know it. You struggled through the desire of staring knowing it will just rub his ego even further, but your eyes betrayed you. Leon observed you, a smug grin that made you hold back a punch.

“Like what you see?”

Leon strided towards you, taking his time. You had plenty of chances to walk away now, but your feet are planted to the floor, his dry clothes still in your hand. With a hand over your head, Leon closed the entrance door, and shifted close enough for you to catch his scent – the musky woodiness mixed with rain and his odour enveloped your nose – his signature cologne.

A hand reached to your waist, pulled you in his embrace.

“Do you want to see the rest?”

His breath tickled your ears as he whispered.

You forgot how attractive Leon could be. How others flock to his attention. Begged me to give them his number. With full confidence, you believed those charms didn’t work on you. Blissfully unaware that Leon chose to withdraw his charms in front of you, contrasting to the unadulterated need his body radiated right now.

Breath tightened, pulse sped, unable to keep up with your thoughts. You felt a sensation shot down your spinal cord, knees trembled slightly, a look of mischief clung to Leon’s face. Your body betrayed you, nodding incessantly.

“So honest.”

Leon feet guided you to the couch, sat you till your eyes level to the bulge in his jeans. The blond undid his first button, and your gaze followed the zipper downwards. Leon grabbed underneath his boxers, and his dick sprung free onto his abdomen. With a curled fist, Leon hovered it at the bridge of your nose and pumped it a few times in your direct line of sight.

“Wet it for me, baby.”

He teased, inching his cock closer to the pucker of your lips.

Saliva gathered at the back of your throat, your tongue desperate to feast on him. A droplet of precome leaked from his tip. You grazed your tongue on the tiny slit, circulating the drop all over your mouth until it blended in your saliva. The light hint of saltiness was there, and it was gone again.

Leon hitched a breath, his hands crawling down your head to pull your hair back loosely for easier moment. You hollowed your cheeks, and slide his girth between your lips. Light gasp turned to needy grunts, the hands groping your hair tightened, pushing you further inside.

You curled your tongue all over the head, coating it with your slick, indulging in the smell of sweat intertwined with his sex. Corner of your lips dribbled down your neck, eyes forced shut from the ache of the shape of his cock head engraved in the back of your throat. But you couldn’t get enough. You let a hand go from Leon’s thigh, and reached for your underwear instead.

“Look at you. Can’t even wait five minutes.”

Leon’s blue eyes glistened with cunningness. His hand tugged harshly at your hair, eliciting a pained groan that pulled you off his cock out with a pop. With one swift motion, Leon removed your top and pants, until you are bare in nothing but your underwear. He slid his hand underneath you, pushed your underwear aside, and felt the stickiness as a finger went inside you.

“God, you want this so much, huh?”

“S-Shut up and fuck me, Leon.”

Leon’s expression changed when you told him that. It triggered something carnal within, and shoved your back onto the couch, underwear pushed aside, cock teased your entrance. With one deep breath, Leon thrusted himself in you, ignoring your needy pleas. You shrieked in pleasure, your jaw drowned in the juncture between his neck and shoulders, nails clawing his back.

“You’re sucking me in, baby…”

Leon’s skin flushed red, his sculpted shoulders strained in delight at the impact.

Without further ado, Leon slammed into your swollen, needy cunt. Squelches and the slap of skin to skin hovered the air, and a stir developed in your body, threatened to release. Your eyes tried to brace shut, but Leon’s hand stroked your face when you did, demanding you to look at him. Until your thoughts were filled with him as you finished together. Leon followed, removed you quickly and landed the streams of come on your lower belly.

It was supposed to be a moment of euphoria, but Leon’s expression turned grim, parting from your embrace after his fingers dwelled lightly on your shoulder blades.

“You should have run when you had the chance.”

Leon sighed, regret forming at his tongue.

“You could have had a normal life, be with someone who doesn’t chase death like me. But now that I have you, it’s impossible to let you go. I can’t ignore wanting you anymore.”

You sensed years of agony and sorrow behind his cerulean eyes – you never noticed these emotions he kept so secretively in his heart. How much did he had to suffer when you told him of all your relationships in the past, and Leon supported you each and every time. No matter how terrible your exes treated you.

“That’s not the life I want.” You affirmed, two fingers brushed his lips and reached his jaw. “I don’t want an easy life, Leon. I don’t care how hard it is. I want to be by your side.”

Leon pulled you in tighter into his familiar embrace. He laid his lips against yours, and you are reminded of that intimate kiss you shared two weeks ago. The passion, minty sweetness of gum is so distinctly Leon.

It was his plea, begged you to notice how much Leon loved you. How far he will go to make you happy. It took you so long, but you could finally accept him. You returned the kiss, just as gentle, loving – a silent vow to Leon that you will make him happy as he lived.

“Come on, baby. Let’s eat. The pizza’s already cold.”

EDIT: I wrote a prequel to this! thanks for reading! come check out my other works. ––yours truly, rose.

[mochinomnoms]

Hi hi friend,

If it is not too much trouble I would like to make a request for your event? I think I would like Floyd with prompt 14- “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!”

They/them for Yuu is fine with me, I was thinking romantic? Where maybe it's obvious to everyone but Yuu how requited their feelings are.

I've really liked reading your writing and hope you continue to have fun doing it (♡°▽°♡)

floyd leech x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, mutual pining [wc} – 3,659 prompt 14: “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!” note - hahahahahhahahahahaha i did not mean to write so much but i went a little buckwild and i think floyd deserves to be allowed to be soft sometimes a floral inconvenience

Lavender roses - Introduced in 1900, lavender roses represent love at first sight. They’re often given to someone to convey that the giver was immediately smitten and fell in love. 

You’d decided to attend a karaoke event the Mostro Lounge was hosting to introduce the new spring menu. It was meant to be a nice, relaxing hangout with your friends from Heartslaybul as you listened to your friends attempt to show off their mediocre singing skills. 

Ace was in an especially good mood, happy to tease you as you waved happily at Floyd, who’d returned your affections. 

“Oi, oi, oiiiiiii, Prefect? When you gonna say something? Kinda tired of dealing with you puking petals every—OW!”

You snorted as Deuce smacked Ace upside the head, muttering about him being an asshole. 

“Leave them alone Ace, unless you want to be collared for harassing a member of the student body?” Riddle reprimanded, giving Ace a harsh glare as he turned to you instead. 

“You can ignore him, Prefect, you don’t have to say anything to that good-for-nothing merman! I’m sure you could do much better anyways.”

You chuckled, enjoying the soft banter between the group. It was particularly nice seeing Riddle interact more casually with his peers, even if you weren’t able to convince him to sing with you. 

“Are you sure you do want to go up with me?” You pouted leaning in close to the red-headed housewarden. “I’ll even let you pick the song—”

“Out of the question.”

You sighed, resting against the plush cushions of the booth while Ace and Deuce bicker about which song would be better for a duet. This was nice. 

It was nice, up until Floyd decided to take part in the festivities. Somehow he’d snuck behind you and Riddle, snatching up your friend with a gleeful cackle as he screeched. 

“FLOYD! PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT—”

“Nah, it’s fine Goldfishie, I need ya for just a sec!”

Floyd placed Riddle in a seat, front and center at the stage, as he climbed up. The cool blue spotlight suited Floyd’s features as he grinned. 

Picking up the mic from its stand, Floyd announced, “Alright! This song is for my favorite little fishie in the whole entire school, so you all better enjoy it!”

You expected him to start singing a silly pop song, one with high energy and beats. Or one that became a meme on Magicam last week, something about flamingos and turning pink. 

Instead, the upbeat, suave tunes of a familiar song started playing. A familiar love song. 

“Is…is this ABBA?”

“Who?” Cater asked, recording the scene with a stifling giggle as Riddle turned redder and redder in embarrassment (and most likely rage) as Floyd continued to serenade him. 

“This is ‘Lay Your Love’ by BABA, a classic from the 80s—”

“No it’s called ABBA back home—wait, WHY IS FLOYD SINGING A LOVE SONG TO RIDDLE!?”

Your screech startled the surrounding tables, drawing attention that you were too jealous to focus on. Floyd made eye contact with you, hearing your yelling. Continuing to sing—quite nicely you’d hate to admit—the eel mer winked and smirked, drawing an ire that you didn’t know you had. 

“What the hell? Floyd!” With the vindication of a scorned lover, you stomped to the stage and swiped the microphone from Floyd’s hands. 

“Floyd, what are you doing?” you spoke into the mic, glaring daggers at the tall beanpole of an eel turned man, who looked unbothered at your angry presence.

Floyd took the mic back and answered, “I’m trying to win my mate back—DON’T GO WASTING—”

“What mate?” You yanked the mic back while Floyd followed suit, though this time you kept both hands on. It became a tugging match as you both tried speaking into the mic before the other took it back. 

“Goldfishie.” You could hear Riddle scream at that. 

“Riddle’s not your mate! I’m your mate—” You snapped your mouth shut, the mic feedback and your last words echoing through the lounge, mocking you. 

Floyd had a large, smug grin on his face, his sharp teeth gleaming under the bright lights of the stage. You were now very aware of the packed lounge, and of the students spectating. 

The mic was slowly pulled back to Floyd, who gleefully asked “Oh~ Say that again?”

“Nuh-uh.” 

You shook your head furiously, trying to pull back in order to run off and curl into a hole from embarrassment. Floyd’s grip on the mic and your hands tightened, preventing your escape. 

“That’s fiiine,” Floyd pulled out a small device from his pocket, lightly tapping it on the mic. “I have it riiiight ‘ere.” 

Suddenly, a recording of your voice looped into the mic: 

“I’m your mate—I’m your mate—I’m your mate—”

He recorded it. 

“Oh my god…” You looked at Floyd in horror, who was still grinning ear to ear, like a cat that got the mouse. 

“HehehehehehahahAHAHA!” Floyd’s giggle turned into a cackle as he launched at you, mic and recorder abandoned on the floor. Between the ear-splitting squeal of the mic hitting the ground and a 6’2” man tackling you, there was little time for you to defend yourself as your lips clashed, teeth clattering against one another from the brute force.

His long arms wrapped themselves tightly around your waist, dipping you down dramatically as he broke your kiss to instead leave wet kisses on your cheeks, nose, forehead, and every other piece of skin not covered by clothes. 

Ace and Cater’s cackles could be heard amongst the now growing laughter, whistles, and jeers of the crowd. You think you could even make out someone yelling at your two to get a room. 

“—off the stage! Get off the stage, both of you!” 

Ah, it was Azul. Who was stomping over the shoo you both off the stage, giving Floyd a particularly harsh whack on the head with his staff. 

“Ow, fuck that hurt!” Floyd whined, scooping you up with his left hand and cradling you to his chest. “Cool it Azul, don’t harsh my vibe—”

“I don’t care! Go make out in your room! This is a lounge not a brothel!”

“Fiiiiiine,” Floyd adjusted his grip to instead throw you over his shoulder, amused by how limp you’d gone in his grasp. “Come on Shrimpy! I got something fun in mind~”

His sentence and teasing tone made you flush, images of you and him in bed flashing through your mind. 

“W-wait, Floyd, what are we gonna do?”

“You’ll see, ahahahehe!” Floyd’s giggled echoed through the hallway as he quickened his pace. It was only a few minutes before you realized that you two had made it to the dormitory halls. 

Floyd kicked open his door, the hinges squeaking from the force. He marched over to his bed, grabbing at your waist to no doubt throw you on it before pausing. 

“Oh yeah.” Like a sudden realization hitting him, Floyd grabbed the corner of his bedsheets and shook them, clothing, books, and crumbs no doubtedly flying off. 

Once satisfied, Floyd hummed and once again grabbed your waist, this time committing to throwing you on the bed, which bounced under you. 

“AaaAaaAAAah—FLOYD!” You yelped, face turning redder as Floyd caged you to the bed. He looked at you with a hungry expression, licking his lips at the sight of you. 

“Wait-wait Floyd, gimme a sec—” you stammered, crawling backwards until your back hit the headboard. “—this is all very very sudden, I—wait!”

Floyd crawled after you, trapping you with his long arms, leaning down until his lips were lingering over yours. You shut your eyes in anticipation, waiting for his hands to grab at your clothes and tear them off. 

A soft, tender meeting of the lips. Floyd pressed his mouth against yours, swiping his tongue into your mouth, to which you returned with flustered confusion. The kiss was with such gentleness that you had to open your eyes to confirm that it was indeed Floyd kissing you. 

Olive and yellow eyes were closed, a blissful smile on his lips as he broke your kiss, instead pressing almost chaste pecks to your cheeks, down, your neck, and over your shirt where your heart was beating away. 

Floyd pressed his right ear to your chest, listening to the increasingly rapid pounding against your rib cage. His arms moved from trapping you against the bed to trapping you against his body, wrapping around your back and tightening while his lanky legs tangled between yours. 

You weren’t sure what to do with your own hands, once he had settled laying on you. Hesitantly, you reached to lace them through his hair, pushing the strands back to get a better view of his peaceful face. Admittedly, seeing Floyd in such a state, blissful and sweet, was beautiful. 

His smile grew slightly as you combed through his hair, nuzzling his nose into your chest. Into your heart really. 

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” Floyd opened his yellow eye, gleaming at you in amusement. “I just wanted to cuddle, did ya have somethin’ else in mind? Haha!”

He moved to prop up his chin, smirking at you as he teased, “Didn’t think ya had sucha dirty mind, if you wanna ‘do it’, all you had to do was ask—”

You shoved his face back into your chest looking away in embarrassment, feeling his giggles vibrate through you. 

“Shut up, ugh!” You pouted, grumbling, “You set me up! Ugh! How’d you even know that would work?”

“I heard you.”

“Huh?”

“Talkin’ to Lil Goldfishie,” Floyd moved so that instead of laying on top of you, he was curled into your side with his head nestled at the crook of your neck. “When you got the flower sickness.” 

You looked at him with shock. That conversation with Riddle happened nearly three months ago in between classes. 

Specifically, it happened a few weeks after winter break, when you were catching up Riddle to your “adventure” in Scarabia, after which small lavender roses started blooming along your freckles, their thorns scratching your skin.

“And then, he launched us waaaaaay into the desert!” You animatedly waved your arms around as you recounted your fiasco over winter break. “We were trapped, but then Kalim used his unique magic to fill a dry riverbed with water and then!”

Riddle raised a brow at you as you began gigging with a soft blush. “Jade and Floyd had to turn into their merforms, so me and Kalim had to hold on to his back, but when I wrapped my arms around his chest, and he held my hand to steady me! ”

Your friend rolled his eyes as you started to silently squealed in your seat, sighing.

“Are you going to finish? I have better things to do than listen to you babble about Floyd of all people. Honestly,” Riddle huffed, “I don’t understand what you see in that riffraff!”

“He’s not a riffraff!” You quipped, frowning as you crossed your arms. “He’s actually really sweet if you give him the time of day, Floyd just likes being able to have fun with others you know!”

“Even then, his mood swings don’t terrify you? He gets rather violent sometimes.” Riddle took a sip of his tea as you shook your head. 

“No, I mean if you just go with the flow it’s fine, plus that just makes him more exciting to be around! Plus we’ve been getting closer ever since Azul’s overblot…”

You smiled softly as you looked down at your lap, fondness growing in your heart like blooms on a warm spring day. 

“He can actually be quite sweet, once you get to know him…you just have to give him a chance.”

The two of you remained quiet, the only coming from the distant chatter of other students in the more populated areas of the guest lounge.

“I’m safe to assume then that he is the reason you’ve started sprouting the roses?”

Your soft pink blush deepened as you nodded, picking at the small flower that began blooming on your cheek. 

“Yeah…”

“When will you confess, then?” You looked at Riddle in shock, who seemed confused at your distress. “What? It’s obvious that you have strong feelings for him, and even I notice how especially clingy he is around you.”

You shook your head, stuttering, “Well, yeah but that’s—”

“I’ve even heard him refer to you by name, he only does that with Jade and Azul you know?”

“You don’t understand Riddle.” You tried to interject, growing more flustered by the second. “I don’t think I could—”

Riddle continued, “As much as I disapprove, it does seem that you two genuinely bring out the best in each other, he does seem softer when you’re around—”

“Oh my—Riddle, stop—”

“—And you’ve gotten more outspoken, I remember how shy you were—”

“I’m begging you—”

“—Besides, according to the Queen of Heart’s rule number 478, any romantic feelings must be confessed approximately 12 days upon their discovery or the individual in question obligated to deny—”

“I said stop, Riddle!” You yelled at the top of your lungs before choking on rather large bouquet of lavender roses. Leaves and petals fluttered all around you as you continued to let out rough coughs, phlegm and saliva making a mess. 

Your yell startled the red-head so much that he simply started at you with a red face and thinned lips, too shocked to properly yell back at you for raising your voice indoors. 

Instead, he carefully placed his tea cup on the table between you two, folded his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. You on the other hand, peaked around the dividers separating your nook from the rest of the lounge. 

Ace and Deuce looked over in concern as you continued to cough out more roses, walking over before you shook your head and gave them a thumbs up before shooing them away and turning back to Riddle. 

“...sorry Riddle.” You whispered, looking at him nervously. “I didn’t mean to yell, don’t be mad?”

“It’s…fine.” He replied with a strained voice, taking a final inhale before opening his eyes again and making eye contact. “You shouldn’t have yelled, and I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Riddle sighed, relaxing into the soft lounge chair. Though he would deny when asked, the chair that he helped you pick for the guest room was is favorite spot to sit in, as it surprising comfortable. 

“May I ask why you refused? It’s quite obvious to anyone that you care for him immensely, for some forsaken reason, and I would even say it’s quite mutual.”

You avoided eye contact as he resumes sipping from his tea, a lemon tea with 2 sugar cubes for his post meal tea. 

“Yeah…that’s what the other first-years say too. Even Jade’s been dropping hints on mer courtship gifts.”

“Then? What’s stopping you? 

A pregnant pause was in the air as you open and closed your mouth, attempting to figure out what it was that scared you. 

“What if…he gets bored?” 

Riddle furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned in, barely able to hear you. 

“What if he what?” He sighed, a bit irritated. “Speak up Prefect, I know you can, you just did earlier.”

You groaned out, “What if he gets bored with me? I’m fun and interesting now, yeah!”

Your friend watched, and you began pacing around the room, holding his head in his hand as he watched and listened to you vent. 

“I’m just a silly little magicless human that got transported from another world! Big whoop! What happens when that novelty wears off? You've heard him, he only likes to do things that are fun and interesting to him, but I won’t always be fun and interesting, eventually he’ll get used to me and get bored.”

You turned to look at Riddle with a teary-eyed, but firm look. “He’s get bored and leave me. I can’t handle that! So I just won’t be with him. In fact, I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for him!”

Your voice began to crack as you stated your final sentence, snapping your mouth shut before you got begun crying. Riddle stood up and walked over to grasp your shoulders, looking at you with an understanding smile. 

“The sort of person that would abandon a lover simply because they’re bored never deserved one in the first place.” 

Riddle hummed in agreement as you sqeaked out a ‘really?’, giving you a soft pat on your shoulder. 

“Of course, I can’t say I don’t understand your hesitance, Floyd is…Floyd, after all. However, he is not my friend, you are. If you choose to forfeit your right to confess, then so be it.”

You smiled as he dragged you back to your seats, giggling as he continued, “I personally would say it’s no lost on your part, he’s not exactly the most prime candidate for your life partner should you be stuck here in Twisted Wonderland, may I suggest one of the many more suitable providers?”

“Pfft-like who? You?” you cackled as Riddle looked at you in mild horror. 

“Oh dear, of course not! I admire you as a friend, but I have much stricter standards for a partner.” He snapped his fingers in revelation. “Perhaps Ace or Deuce, you are rather close to them—”

“Ewwwww, pass. They’re like annoying brothers!” 

Riddle snorted before covering it up with a cough. “True. Trey?”

“If you’re just going to suggest your dorm members, maybe we should switch the conversation to something else.”

“Well I think my dorm produces only the best and most gentlemanly mages of all of NRC, so excuse me if I’m simply trying to give you the best options!” 

You and Riddle shared some laughter, a flash of teal catching the corner of your eye. But you saw nothing, so instead you focused back on Riddle as he began recounting his own winter break activities.

You remained quiet as you processed your thoughts, finding the lilac ceiling to be particularly interesting. 

Floyd also stayed quiet, still curled into your side as he breathed in your scent. You’re sure that with all of the flowers you’d started coughing up in the last few minutes, you smelled strongly of the lavender roses. 

“You know…I was gettin’ real mad when you wouldn’t confess to me.” Floyd whined, propping his head up with his hand to look at you and your pink face. 

“I thought it would be nice to get a cute confession out of my little shrimp,” He pinched your nose and forced you to look at him. “It be real fun! Like those cringy romcoms landfolk like so much!”

You replied, nasally due to your pinched nose, “Wait, is that why Jade was telling me about mer courting methods?”

“Haha! Yeah, I was hopin’ that you’d bring me a pretty seashell or somethin’ cute so Icould make fun of ya for later.”

You let out an indigent huff, smacking Floyd’s hand away as he laughed. 

“Really? So what made you change your mind?”

“Hearing ya talk to Goldfishie. It pissed me off that you’d think I’d toss you out like humans at sea with their trash.”

Floyd’s tone changed, looking  visibly annoyed as he continued. 

“Mers mate for life, and I wouldn’t choose someone I’d get bored with.” He sat up as his mood continued to sour. “It pissed me off, and it hurt, that my Little Shrimpy would think about me like that.”

“Oh, Floyd,” you sat up with him, guilt seeping in your bones as you looked at his angry face. Though, with the small tears forming in his eyes, Floyd looked more frustrated than anything. 

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think—it didn’t occur to me that you felt the same—”

“Well I do, and it’s not fair to me that you wouldn’t even give me a chance.” The way Floyd said that so matter of factly made you snap your mouth shut again, looking down at your lap instead. 

“I’m…sorry, Floyd. I wish I could make it up to you—”

Floyd interrupted, moody demeanor brightening suddenly. “No worries, I got just the solution!”

Crawling over back to you so that your back met the headboard again, Floyd grinned maliciously at your curled form. 

“Say it.”

“Huh?”

“Say it. Those three little words.” Floyd held up three fingers to emphasize his point. “The ones that will make all those little flower go right away, the ones you need to say to me.”

You stiffened, leaning away from Floyd as he leaned in. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Say it, Y/N.” The use of your name startled your attention back to his face. He looked unusually serious, peering his heterochromic eyes into your own. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve mistaken him for his twin. 

You whispered, prolonging the inevitable, “What happened to Shrimpy?”

“Shrimpy was Shrimpy, but now your Y/N. And Y/N is Y/N…”

The two of you shared a smile as the distance between you two continued to close. You couldn’t remember what was so pressing earlier, why you were so anxious when the yellow eye of the man in front of you produced nothing but adoration from your heart. 

“Please…” From the uncharacteristic soft murmur to the eyes darting down to your lips and back to your eyes, Floyd drew you back in with a hypnotic ease that only the most alluring of mythical creatures could even hope to imitate. 

The two of you leaned in as you placed a hand on his chest, his own left hand coming to cradle your own. 

You craned your head back to hover your lips under his, uttering the words you swore to never let leave your mouth. 

“I-I…love you, Floyd Leech.”

A single lavender rose grew between your palms, as two longing hearts met as one.

[shibaraki]

🍉 ─ SPONSOR A WIP FOR GAZA

Hi friends!! I don't know how this will go but I wanted to participate and help contribute a little bit more to the fundraising efforts for Gaza set up by ficsforgaza. I’m taking things slower on the writing front this year so I only have a few to list, some longer than others. Even so, I hope some appeal to you and encourage you to give a donation.

RATE: $1 per 100 words

INSTRUCTIONS: donate to a vetted fundraiser of your choosing, take a screenshot of the donation confirmation (make sure your private information is censored) and send it to me along with the title of whatever WIP you're sponsoring!

Here’s an example:

hi monty! here's proof of my donation to child mohammed and family's gofundme. I'd like this to go toward the wip 'name your courage' :) ty!! [screenshot.png showing evidence of donation states that $5 was given, therefore 500 words will be written for the wip titled 'name your courage']

Upon receiving your ask (I won't be publishing them) I will amend the list below and prioritise progressing that WIP as well as keeping this post updated weekly. Just for clarity: I’ll be submitting redacted evidence I receive to @ficsforgaza to try and ensure that people are not sending those same screenshots to different writers.

TO AVOID BEING OVERWHELMED I HAVE MADE A DONATION WC GOAL FOR EACH WIP❗️Just to be clear—donations go towards progressing a WIP. The sole purpose of this is to encourage donations and spread awareness. Every little bit helps. Even if a fic doesn’t get completed right away I still appreciate your participation and promise to fulfil the WC goals.

🍉 ─ WIPS AVAILABLE:

↳ NAME YOUR COURAGE — BAKUGO KATSUKI #: GN AFAB reader, post canon au, quirkless discrimination, falling in love, social work, worldbuilding, angst + fluff + eventual smut

determined to reach deep inside himself and reconcile the shame that still lingers there, pro hero dynamight publicly aligns with a well-known quirkless charity organization. what he gains is greater than he could’ve imagined.

current wc: 12,932/20,000+ donated (goal) wc: 5,000/5,000 🎊 ☑️

↳ A MANY SPLENDORED THING — KUROO TETSURO #: GN AFAB reader, divorcee kuroo, best friends to lovers, heavy mutual pining, hurt/comfort, eventual smut + romance

you wonder, not for the first time, why tetsuro could never see what was right in front of him. it was as though the compass of his sharp intuition reversed polarity when you were in the vicinity. you’ve been in love with him since you were sixteen and he’s the one person that never noticed.

current wc: 13,962/20,000+ donated (goal) wc: 5,000/5,000 🎊 ☑️

↳ #HEARTBURN — TODOROKI SHOUTO [COLLAB FIC] #: GN reader, meet-cutes, social media + shipping, reader is a paramedic, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff + humour

who knew your run-ins with the suspiciously accident prone pro-hero shouto would capture the hearts of the general public—or that a bit of harmless flirting could have such inconvenient consequences?

current wc: 2,500/5,000 donated (goal) wc: 2,500/2,500 🎊 ☑️

↳ EMERGENCY CONTACT — AIZAWA SHOUTA #: GN reader, friends to lovers, fluff + humour, sexual tension, reader is an underground hero, adopted eri, getting together

when aizawa gives eri a special card with a number to call if there’s ever a big emergency and no one else is around who can help, he doesn't consider the fact that her idea of an emergency is vastly different from his.

current wc: 1,600/3,000 donated (goal) wc: 2,500/2,500 🎊

↳ THE STAG — OKKOTSU YUUTA [RETURNING WIP!] #: AFAB reader, courtesan au (no curses), courtesan yuuta, reader is a tailor, falling in (forbidden) love, fluff + angst, love letters

your hands were made to embroider, to cut fine silks and sew tales into fabric. from time to time they’ll find themselves touching a courtesans skin. it is only to measure, and never for pleasure.

current wc: 649/? donated (goal) wc: 2,000/2,000 🎊

↳ SOMETHING BORROWED — NANAMI KENTO [EVENT WIP!] #: AFAB GN reader, no curse au, neighbours to lovers, single parent nanami, foster kids yuji + sukuna, fake engagement, pining, getting together

the precious little you know about your neighbor is that he’s handsome, unmarried, and he has two long term foster sons. after the twins panic during an inspection and identify you as nanami’s fiancé, you’re left with the opportunity to learn more. 

current wc: 10,288/? donated (goal) wc: 250/2,000 ☑️

That’s all for now, though there is a possibility that I will add more WIPs later. And let me know if you’ve got any questions (or if I’ve missed anything lol).

It’s totally fine if you can’t donate or if none of these fics appeal to you!! Please feel free to check out the other writers on @ficsforgaza’s page if you’d rather sponsor some different fics, or even make requests to those accepting them ^_^ thank you guys!

HERE’S EVEN MORE WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE, AND DON’T FORGET YOUR DAILY CLICKS!

[frozenjokes]

Put Me In Perspective, Or At Least In My Place (Another Retrospective On Aromantic Love)

“Above your head like this. Both hands, look at me. Both hands, Grian. It doesn’t take a lot of strength, just step forward and release around eye level.” Cleo demonstrated, holding the axe at the end of its handle and releasing the weapon. It flew in what had to be a perfect arc before burying itself in the wood, a bullseye of course. She threw the axe like she’d done it a thousand times, and honestly, she probably had.

“Don’t people throw them with one hand, too?”

“Yes. It’s just harder. Try this first.”

Grian pursed his lips, stepping forward, throwing, then squeaking when the axe bounced terrifyingly off the wood, hitting the wall before rolling and bumping the curb that separated the stall and his feet. Ah. That was frightening.

“Nearly took out our ankles there,” Cleo said, not sounding all too concerned.”

“It- Can it bounce over that?”

“Not easily. But not uncommonly either. Try not to do that.” Cleo strode forward, plucking the axe off the ground and handing it to Grian. “Don’t throw it while I’m in there.”

“I wasn’t going to!”

“Maybe you won’t, but some people need to be told,” Cleo grunted, ripping the axe she’d thrown from the wall and spinning it thoughtlessly in her hand before burying it in the stump that split their twin alleys. “Try again. Keep your wrists straighter, release at eye level.”

Grian shifted his weight, frowning, “Surely you brought me here to talk about something else other than axe throwing. ‘Cancel your plans, I’m picking you up,’ is an extremely ominous message to receive from a stranger at 8:00 at night. How did you get my number again?”

“Pearl. And we aren’t strangers, we’ve met at least once at that big friend get-together thing, you know. That awful pizza place? Regardless, I’m friends with runners, so force is necessary 90% of the time. If you want to skip to the talking, we can talk, but I don’t know if you want to hear what I have to say.”

“I probably don’t.”

“Then start throwing and I’ll do the work. You’ll get it to stick, just give her a few tries.”

“You seem to have a lot of faith in me.”

“Everyone gets it eventually.” Cleo looked relaxed, unconcerned, and Grian tried to match the energy, but he couldn’t quite shake his anxiety. Well. He was here, so he might as well make the most of it.

It took six more tries before he got an axe to stick. Wow that was satisfying- but the air seemed a little too heavy to celebrate more than Cleo’s tasteful clapping. Maybe he should come back here with Pearl and Impulse.. Jimmy maybe? He’d kill to see Jimmy try this actually, even if he’d likely crush Grian in the end. When Grian went to collect the two axes from the stall, Cleo finally spoke.

“I’d like to know what’s going on between you and Scar. Properly. It’s been a particularly shitty week for our friend group and Scar’s been in a foul mood for more reason than one, so we haven’t talked. And I’m not just here to interrogate you about Scar either, I’d really like to know what’s going through your head as well. Have you seen each other this week? Have you talked at all?” Cleo was firm, but nothing about their voice was hostile. There was a worried longing there, the kind of urging that came from a deep concern for a good friend.

Grian took a deep breath. “Not much. I saw him a couple days ago when I was getting lunch with Pearl at the zoo. He only texted me one other time to tell me he wouldn’t be.. we have this mutual place we hang out, and he just told me he wouldn’t be around this week. Too much going on. I’m really sorry about Etho by the way, I hope you guys find him.”

“Thank you. Bdubs got in contact with him yesterday, so we know he’s alright. We still don’t know where he is or when he’s coming home, but from what I’ve heard, he’s keeping frequent contact. Hasn’t called me or Scar, but that’s typical. With any luck he’ll be back safely soon. That’s what Etho said anyway. Still all sorts of concerning, but we’ll take what we can get.”

“That’s good. I’m glad.” Grian tried not to be hurt that Scar hadn’t updated him, but failed miserably despite the fact it probably wasn’t any of his business. He just would’ve liked to know, that’s all.

“It is. So how did that clusterfuck of a night happen between you and Scar? How did that start?”

“Oh,” Grian mumbled, fidgeting with the axe still in his hands. Cleo took the other from the stump, throwing it almost lazily, like the question didn’t matter to her much at all. Grian decided to do the same, focusing on the secondary activity instead. “Well.. he invited me over. That was a couple hours after our first spat, and I was still feeling weird about it all. Wasn’t well.”

“I figured. He reached out to you first?”

“Yeah. We weren’t supposed to do anything though, just.. get it out of our systems. I was so mad at him- I’m still so angry, and not even for any reason in particular. I’m just mad.”

“Then how’d you end up in his bed?”

“Oh. I kissed him. He was pissing me off.”

“Right.”

Grian scoffed, snagging his axe off the floor of the alley after a failed throw. “How did you think this all went down? He told you the jist, basically. Not nicely, but he told you.”

Cleo shrugged. “I just wanted to know a few more details. Place my judgment a bit more accurately. From where I’m standing, you’re both idiots self destructing in the dumbest way possible. I would like it very much if this didn’t happen again, not only because it’s bad for both of you, but quite frankly, it’s embarrassing.”

“You’re entitled to your opinion.”

“Come on.”

Grian curled his lip. “Listen, I don’t understand why it’s such a huge problem for Scar and I to work out our differences with a little violence. We're consenting adults and the sex was kinda nuts, so if we’re both having fun there’s no issue. In any case, I’m pretty sure this is solving all of our problems.”

“Oh? Do explain.”

Grian rolled his shoulders, throwing his axe and getting it to stick for the second time, “We’re just letting off steam, Cleo. Two months of awkward tension does a lot to a man, it does a lot, nothing good. This is like a shortcut to the whole ‘tiMe hEaLs aLL’ bullshit, we’re like- getting it out of our system.”

“Uh huh. And this is going to resolve your unrequited feelings for Scar how..?”

“I’m getting it out of my system, Cleo.”

“Ah, so having really good sex with a man who isn’t looking for the same things in a relationship as you is going to fix you.”

“You got it.”

“That’s the dumbest load of horseshit I’ve ever heard.” For the first time, Cleo’s axe bounced off the board. She strode to pick it up wordlessly.

“Alright.” Grian landed another axe, just inches from the bullseye.

“Grian,” Cleo sighed harshly, and Grian avoided her eye, uninterested in her scrutiny, “Listen. As dysfunctional as the both of you two are, I don’t actually believe this couldn’t work. You two have been as thick as thieves for ages, and as much as you’re scrapping now, I don’t think that’s indicative of how you actually feel about each other. You’re just hurt people hurting each other, and you don’t have to be. For goodness’s sake, Scar would have been happy to be in some sort of relationship with you, he just didn’t want to lose you altogether. Somewhere I think that got lost in translation.”

“Scar doesn’t want to date me. He only offered to appease me, it was as obvious as anything.”

“I don’t doubt there’s truth to that. He doesn’t do well under the pressure of a love confession, and that’s no one’s fault. But his feelings on romance are a lot more complicated than ‘wanting’ or ‘not wanting.’ You did the right thing to refuse him, Grian, he wasn’t ready. But I think it’s worth talking to him again. Laying everything out on the table. And I can’t speak for what Scar wants, his brain is a mess of tangled wires and sparks, but he’s obviously had plenty of time to think about this, and he might surprise you. If there’s one thing I do know about Scar, it’s that he loves to give things like this a try. And I mean that. He does love it.”

“But Scar won’t love me. Not like I want to love him.”

Cleo hummed, thoughtful as they considered the ceiling, “You know, I don’t know if that’s true.”

Grian huffed, “Unless I’m misunderstanding what ‘aromantic’ means, I don’t see what you mean.”

Cleo shrugged. “Scar loves everyone in big sweeping gestures. That doesn’t change from person to person, whether they’re family, close friends, lovers.. it doesn’t change. But there are still levels, right? There’s still loyalty. You’re thinking of Scar as loving you like a friend, but I think that’s the wrong approach. Making that distinction makes it seem like his love would be less intense, like he wouldn’t still give you everything he has. Try.. a scale, 1 through 10, maybe. For you, you’re looking to give Scar your 10 on the scale, right? A 9 or 10, whatever it is, that’s the kind of love you want to give, the kind of love you’re looking to receive. In Scar’s brain, he’s been giving you that 10 for months, and if you asked to spend the rest of your life with him, he’d probably go ahead and accept without hesitation. That’s just how he feels about the people he’s close with.”

Grian didn’t speak, still working out how to process those words, but Cleo did not mind continuing in his absence. “If you’re worried about not being #1, then I’m afraid you’re fighting a losing battle, friend. With anyone. You’re contending with mothers, brothers, sisters, friends that go back to high school, grade school, diapers. Being intimate doesn’t outweigh those bonds, not for most people. And this isn’t to say that a relationship with Scar would be exactly the same as it would be with anyone else, it won’t, and if you’re the type of guy that gets insecure when your partner is physically friendly with other people, then forget it, but in my truest of hearts, if you’re looking for someone to love, I believe Scar would be more than good for you. He would treat you well,” Cleo paused, thoughtful before continuing, “And honestly, things literally can not get any messier between you two. There are zero stakes to giving this a shot. You’ll either feel a lot better about yourselves or you’ll go your separate ways, both of which are a huge improvement to whatever the fuck is happening between you two now. Maybe you’ll even stay friends after talking all this shit out. Who knows.”

Grian returned his axe to the stump, needing to sit down. To think. He was quiet for a long time just sitting there, the only sound being the bustle of other customers and Cleo’s own axe hitting its mark time and time again.

“You really think he’d want to give it a shot?”

Cleo shrugged and shook her head noncommittally, “Who knows. But it wouldn’t surprise me. So long as you two actually talk this all out, I think anything could happen. And Christ, if you two decide to get together and still want to ‘fall down the stairs’ then have nasty sex afterward, that’s your prerogative, but for crissakes, at least wear some sort of padding or a helmet or something, don’t actually kill each other.”

Well. He had gotten Scar that helmet, hadn’t he.

“I’ll think about it,” Grian mumbled, eyes lidded. And he was. He was thinking quite hard about it.

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

(you) on my arm

Summary: On the eve of Kit’s wedding, she announces that she’s leaving Tir Asleen for good. You’ll do anything to convince her to stay, even if your class difference forbids it.

Pairing: servant!reader x princess!kit tanthalos

Contains: enemies to friends to lovers, mature language and content, smut, oral sex (both receiving), light gagging, medieval roleplay, forbidden intimacy, mutual pining, dom!kit, switch!reader, 18+, MDNI

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Based on the song “(You) On My Arm” by Leith Ross. I’ve had this idea for a while, it feels SO good to get it out! Also, we need more Kit Tanthalos smut, why am I starving here??

———

Your relationship with the princess of Tir Asleen was… interesting to say the least.

You knew what you were in for when you were hired to work as a castle servant. Kit sort of had a reputation for teasing the “help,” and you saw it a lot with one of the kitchen hands whom she often referred to as “muffin girl.” It’s not that you had a problem with the kitchen hand in question, it was just that she never really spoke up for herself, instead opting to sit back and let it happen. You, on the other hand, were much more fiery and quick-witted.

One day, you passed by Kit in another sword sparr with Jade while you were fetching water from the castle well. You hadn’t had much combat training outside of stick fights in the woods with the other village children in your youth, but even then you could tell that Jade was so much better than Kit. It was comical, really, especially considering how it was well known that the princess always won against combat with the knight.

Their fight took away from your attention long enough for you to lose your footing on a misplaced rock and trip, spilling the buckets of water you were holding all over the slick gravel. You cursed, knowing you’d have to walk all the way back to the well to fetch more.

The commotion caused Kit and Jade to drop their swords momentarily and look in your direction. Kit recognized you from the castle staff and smirked, an insult forming on her lips.

“Feeling thirsty, maid?” She called out. “In the future, I’d appreciate it if the castle’s water supply wasn’t compromised the next time you decide to drool over me and my incredible sword skills.”

Anger bubbled inside you while the cocky princess snickered at her own joke. You turned to see Jade rolling her eyes, which made you feel a bit better. Taking a deep breath, you faced Kit and flashed her a sickly sweet smile.

“Of course, your highness. I’ll make sure to keep your ‘incredible sword skills’ in mind the next time I’m patching a tear in your clothing after a spar with Jade.”

Kit’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening and her face flushing a new shade of crimson. Jade dissolved into a fit of laughter, not used to seeing the princess of Tir Asleen being put in her place. All Kit could do was stand there, embarrassed, and gape at you as you picked up the buckets and turned away to walk back to the well.

After the initial wave of confidence from your interaction had dialed down, you began to realize how easily Kit could get you fired. She was the princess after all, she could have anything she wanted at the snap of her fingers, and she knew that. The next couple nights, you laid awake in the servant chambers, and wondered if tomorrow was the day Kit would complain to Sorsha and have you promptly removed from the castle.

But the day never came. You would pass by Kit in the halls, and while she would always purposely avoid eye contact, she never seemed to harbor any ill intents. About a week or so later, she hit you with another taunting remark, and you fired one back out of instinct. This time, instead of getting embarrassed or angry, Kit simply shot you a side-eyed smile and walked away.

Since that day, your relationship with the princess of Tir Asleen was permanently altered into something Kit had never had with one of the palace hands. She would come at you with a quick remark, and you would respond with a sly taunt, or vice versa. Witty one-liners soon turned into full conversations, and your snarky dynamic began to blossom into a genuine friendship.

You had to admit, Kit had her qualities. Sure she was arrogant, stubborn, hot-headed, and a little selfish, but she was also funny, fearless, free-spirited, and… insanely pretty.

No doubt about it, Kit Tanthalos was hot. You’d never tell her that of course, her ego was inflated enough. Besides, her knowing you were attracted to her would surely give her ample ammo she’d use to tease you.

Still, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Kit thought the same about you. You weren’t a princess by any means, but your smooth complexion and gentle features made you a bit of a catch. Class differences aside, was your crush on the next heir to the throne so outrageous?

Stolen glances while passing each other in the hall only furthered your delusions. You swore you could see something in Kit’s eyes that was more than platonic, maybe even some sort of longing. Still, you had no way to be sure, so you opted to keep it to yourself.

Now, you stood in Kit’s room, folding her laundry while she was attending a ball downstairs. You weren’t invited of course, not that you really wanted to go anyway since this was the ball announcing Kit’s engagement to the Prince of Galladoorn. When Kit first told you about her engagement, you felt sick, anger and jealousy flooding your mind. But Kit seemed to just shrug it off, which meant she’s either completely avoiding the situation or has fully accepted her responsibility as heir to the throne.

Knowing Kit, you were pretty confident it was the former.

You scowled at the wedding dress laid out for tomorrow’s festivities. A part of you wanted to kick it under the bed, or take it in for cleaning and “accidentally” lose it. But you knew these actions would have serious consequences, so you stuck with shooting dirty looks to the garment from across the room.

While you were on the floor putting clothes away into Kit’s storage chest, you suddenly heard some commotion outside the door. Your ears perked up, trying to make out the muffled sounds. The voices of Kit and Sorsha were easy to make out, but they sounded angry, as if they were in some kind of fight.

“A petulant child who needs to grow up.”

Sorsha’s voice pierced through the door, followed by Kit’s muffled arguments, and then furious footsteps disappearing down the long corridor. Silence echoed throughout the bedroom before Kit threw open the door and stomped inside, not noticing you mostly hidden behind the foot of her bed.

Not wanting to alarm the princess, you decided to keep your presence unknown, Kit was angry enough as is. She picked up a pillow and punched it, before sitting on her bed and holding her face in her hands. The sound of her quiet sobs reverberated around the bedroom.

At this point, you felt as though you were infringing on the princess’ privacy. You were about 99.9% certain that Kit would never show this level of emotional vulnerability if she knew someone else was in the room. You slowly started to lower the lid to the now fully replenished storage chest, closing it with a dull thud.

Kit jumped at the sudden noise and whipped around, ready to yell at whoever had trespassed. Instead, she saw you standing there sheepishly, and her eyes softened.

“Oh, it’s just you.” She muttered, lowering her head again.

You rang your clammy hands in front of you. “Sorry, I was just putting away your laundry. Didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

Kit said nothing in response and continued to stare at her lap. The tear stains painted on her cheeks reflected against the room’s soft candlelight, making them impossible not to notice. Your heart lurched, seeing her in this state was killing you. Despite how uncomfortable you felt, your caring nature overtook and you cautiously moved towards Kit.

“Are you alright, Princess?”

Kit let out a shaky breath. “Jade is leaving.”

A thick silence hung in the air as you didn’t want to interrupt. Kit continued. “She’s going to train with the knights of Galladoorn.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, moving to sit next to the princess and lay a gentle hand on her back.

The only sound in the room was your hand scratching against the smooth material of Kit’s ball gown. Kit was sitting next to you, perfectly still on the edge of the bed, with a blank expression on her face. If the situation wasn’t so heavy, you might have found it kind of peaceful.

Suddenly, Kit jumped up, startling you and accidentally knocking your hand back down. “Kit, what are you…”

“I’m leaving.” She announced before grabbing a knapsack from the corner of her room.

You were speechless, unable to process what she said. “Leaving? What do you…”

Kit cut you off by throwing open her wooden storage chest, rapidly throwing clothes over her shoulder. You rolled your eyes in annoyance. “Kit! I just folded those!”

“Well I’ll need clothes wherever I’m going, right?” She shot back, messily stuffing the garments into her knapsack.

She was beginning to scare you, so you tried to reason with her. “Kit, you’ve had a rough night, you’re not thinking clearly…”

“No! No, I’m thinking clearly for the first time in my whole life.” She interrupted.

“If you were thinking clearly, you would know that running away…”

“I’m not running away!” She finally stopped packing and turned to look at you, a somewhat crazed smile on her face. She grabbed your upper arms and pulled you in close, staring at you intently.

“I’m looking for something. It’s not here. It’s out there, somewhere, waiting for me. I have to find it.”

She squeezed your upper arms and let you go, returning to finish packing. You were stunned. Thoughts of what life in the castle would be like without her flooded your mind. You wanted to stop her. You wanted to talk her into staying. You wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, screaming that she was the most selfish person you’d ever met.

Instead, you stood frozen and helpless, watching the princess you grew to care for set to leave. A single tear rolled down your cheek as you managed to barely choke up a few words.

“I wish I’d had a chance to walk with you to parties.”

Kit froze, finally pausing her packing and glancing in your direction. “You mean the balls? Because they’re really not as great as you’d think…”

“I’d wear a dress, and walk in with you on my arm.” The tears started to pour down your face. You avoided eye contact, too ashamed to look at her.

Now Kit was really confused. “So… you want to dress up and go to a ball? Is that what this is about?”

“I don’t care about the stupid balls, Kit!” You exclaimed, now full on sobbing. “I don’t wanna go to a ball! I wanna keep cracking jokes with you in the corridors. I wanna keep stealing glances in the hallways. I wanna get you some pretty little thing and tell you how good it looks on you. I wanna watch you pick out your clothes in the morning and compliment your taste… and then make a snide remark about something. I don’t know what it’d be, but you’d smile and fire something back like you always do. I wanna do all these things with you. I can’t do that if you leave!”

You continued to sob, choking on your tears and struggling to breathe evenly. You felt pathetic, and part of you was ashamed to be confessing all of this to the princess. The other part, however, figured you’d already shared this much, you might as well share everything.

Kit stared at you, wide eyed and shocked. When she told you she was leaving, this was the last reaction she had expected. She took a step towards you. “Hey…”

“I’m in love with you, Kit!” You practically shouted over your shallow breaths. “I didn’t try to be but I am. I know I’m just a servant girl and I’m not a countess or a princess or…”

You were cut off by Kit grabbing your face and pulling you close until your foreheads touched. Your breath hitched and your heart beat faster, but otherwise the closeness seemed to calm you down. It was like the world had stopped, and everything disappeared. You and Kit may as well have been the only two people on earth.

“I don’t need you to get me pretty little things.” Kit started, your name ghosting over her lips. “You are my pretty little thing.”

Kit lifted your chin and crashed her lips against yours. Your body tensed as you were completely taken by surprise, but you soon wrapped your arms around her neck and sighed into the kiss. Her lips were soft, and tasted faintly of falernian wine.

She pulled back to allow you both to catch your breath. You gasped into each other's mouths, the bittersweet smiles you wore offsetting the tear stains that still sat on both of your cheeks.

“Kit, I…”

“Shh it’s ok, pretty girl.” She whispered as she ran her thumbs over your cheeks.

It was at this moment you realized that Kit was still in her ballgown. You knew she had a general distaste towards feminine clothing, instead leaning more towards a masculine look, but you thought it looked nice on her. The silky fabric felt nice against your skin, and you couldn’t help but notice how low her neckline dipped to expose a decent amount of her cleavage.

You pressed your lips to meet hers once again, subtly moaning upon impact. The two of you started inching towards her bed, almost subconsciously as neither of you could tell who started it. Kit bent to lay you down on her duvet and pulled away to meet your eyes.

“Is this ok?” She asked in a low voice.

You nodded, reaching around to pull at the strings on her back that were fastening her dress. She let you, staying perfectly still until you untied the last knot, and then helping you pull it down to a pool around her feet.

Your eyes traveled down Kit’s body, now covered by nothing but a corselette and short braies. She crawled onto the bed to hover over you again, her lips meeting yours once more. Her hands brushed over the side of your torso, before traveling up to lightly squeeze at your breast. You shivered, allowing a whimper to escape from your lips and dissolve into Kit’s mouth.

Kit pulled away from your kiss to latch onto your jaw and gently suck. You gasped, involuntarily bucking your hips against her, causing a smirk to appear on her face. She slowly began to pepper kisses down your neck, to your collarbone, until she reached the only bit of exposed flesh near your bosom that wasn’t covered by your dress. Her big blue eyes stared up at you as she rolled your flesh between her teeth and listened to your whimpers grow desperate by the second.

“Talk to me, honey.” She mumbled, slipping a hand underneath the skirt of your dress and resting it on your thigh. “Tell me what you want.”

“Kit…” you sighed, breathless. She didn’t budge, instead moving to soothe the mark she gave you with her tongue. You groaned, both out of pleasure and because you knew the other servants would almost undoubtedly notice the mark and give you quite the ribbing.

“Use your words, pretty girl.” God, it was like she knew just what to say to make your brain short circuit.

“T-touch me…” you managed to sputter out. “Kit… please.”

An accomplished grin spread across Kit’s features as she lifted the skirt of your dress until there was nothing to cover you but your pantyhose. You gulped, not used to being this exposed, especially in front of the Princess of Tir Asleen. Kit’s fingers wrapped around the band of your pantyhose, looking up at you for approval. You lifted your hips, and she slid them down your legs with ease, tossing them over her shoulder as soon as they reached past your feet.

Kit stared at your naked cunt, your arousal shimmering in the candlelight. She dragged two fingers through your folds before taking them both in her mouth, moaning at your taste. You had to bite your lip to keep from crying out her name, for fear of being heard by any passer-byers.

Upon first taste, Kit knew she needed more of you. She dove into you, encircling your clit with her tongue. There was nothing you could do to stop the primal groan from escaping the back of your throat, causing Kit to pull away and place a gentle hand over your mouth.

“Shh, pretty girl. Gotta be quiet, yeah?”

You gazed at the way your juices dripped down her chin. The sight was so erotic you barely even registered that she was talking to you, focusing solely on how your arousal glistened on her puffy pink lips.

She noticed the skirt of your dress was still bunched around your waist, and lifted up the hem until it was hovering above your lips.

“Open for me.”

You parted your lips, and Kit stuffed the bottom of your dress into your mouth, the linen cloth working to muffle your moans. She smiled at you, taking pleasure in seeing you gagged. “Such a good girl.”

Kit dove back in between your legs, swiping her tongue through your slit while gently holding your legs apart. Your head fell back on the bed while suffocated moans vibrated around the linen cloth. At this point she usually would’ve stopped to ask how you were feeling, but she took your pleasured whines as approval enough and kept going.

Your abdomen began to tighten, a sensation you were all-too-familiar with from a couple late-night solo dalliances. Your whines grew louder, more desperate as your jaw clenched harder on the linen fabric.

“Kith…” you groaned, trying to warn her through the cloth.

She nodded, keeping her head between your legs. “I know honey. Let go for me, yeah? You can do it.”

Her hot breath tickling your cunt while her tongue engulfed your clit only quickened the speed of your release. Your hips sputtered, chasing her greedy tongue and painting her features with your arousal. Kit could tell how close you were, and shot you a smug smile before gently squeezing your inner thighs, forcing your body into overdrive with a minimum amount of effort.

Your orgasm crashed over you like ocean waves on an island shore. The pleasure rippled through your body, forcing your knees to shake and your head to roll. You arched your back and rocked your pussy against Kit’s face, desperately trying to get as much out of your climax as possible.

Her voice echoed around the room and disappeared into the night air. “That’s it. Doing so good. So pretty like this. I knew you could do it. So good for me.”

After a moment or two, your hips slowed and your breathing evened as you came down from your high. A final moan ghosted your lips when Kit ceased her movements, lifting her head up to look at you with arousal still glazed across her mouth and chin. She licked her lips, making sure to get every drop, and helped you take your dress out of your mouth.

You laid on the bed, hair splayed across the duvet as you tried to catch your breath. Kit moved to sit next to you, smiling down at your collapsed state. “Feel better?”

“That was…” you sighed, at a complete loss for words.

You turned your head towards Kit, her lap sitting at your eye level. Even though you were still a little woozy, you could have sworn Kit’s braies had a small wet patch just between her thighs. Wanting to test the waters, you lifted your hand and grazed it over her thigh, watching her eyelids almost droop shut, and an involuntary sigh escape from her parted lips.

In the search for your own pleasure, you had almost forgotten about Kit’s.

A new wave of confidence washed over you, and you sat up to face your princess, a wicked idea popping into your head.

“Your highness… might thou please allow me to return the favor?”

Kit stared at you, confused by the unusual formality of your words until she noticed an amused glimmer flash across your eyes. Immediately understanding and falling in with the roleplay, she grabbed your jaw with one hand and pulled you close.

“Good little maids know how to serve their princess.”

A shiver managed to travel down your body before she kissed you once more, the faint taste of your juices still lingering on her lips. You pulled away and stood her up, untying her corselette and pulling down her braies, tossing them over your shoulder.

Kit was now standing in front of you, every inch of her completely exposed. The dim light from the candles danced across her bare skin as your eyes traveled down her body. You wrapped your arms around her neck and kissed her, trying to get as much of her up against you as possible.

You pushed her to sit on the edge of her bed, leaving frantic kisses down her body until you dropped to your knees in front of her. Her legs spread to give you access, and you wasted no time immersing your face to explore her already soaking wet folds. Kit wasn’t quite as vocal as you were, but her low curses and frantic grabs at your hair let you know you were doing a good job.

Kit’s feverish bucking soon picked up the pace, already so close from watching you get off at the hands of herself. You thought about stopping to tease her while she was in her desperate and needy state, but decided against it. Instead, you attached your lips to her swollen clit, flicking it with your tongue while your hand reached up to pinch one of her erect nipples.

A primal moan escaped from the back of Kit’s throat as her climax hit her all at once. She threw a hand over her mouth, muffled curses filling the bedroom while her hips bucked and sputtered helplessly against your face.

You looked up at her after her breathing evened and she settled down, your big doe eyes making an exaggerated expression of innocence. “Was that alright, your highness?”

Kit smirked, rolling her eyes at your insistence to continue the roleplay. “Yes, maid. Thank you for your service. If I need you again, I shall ring the bell.”

Practically snorting at Kit’s blatant sarcasm, you playfully smacked her leg, making her laugh. She fell back on the bed, motioning for you to lay your head on her chest before she wrapped her arm around you, fingers brushing through your disheveled hair.

A comfortable silence filled the bedroom, the only sounds heard were your hands on Kit’s chest and the faint brushing of her fingers through your hair. As wonderful as this night was, you couldn’t let go of the burning question that still lingered in the air.

“Kit?”

“Yes, pretty girl?”

Your heart melted at the nickname, making you dread the next question even more.

“Are you still going to leave?”

Kit sighed, and let go of you to stand up and get dressed. She stepped over her ballgown still lying in a heap and opted for some more traditional masculine attire. She refused to look at you, refused to answer your question.

“Kit?”

“I have to leave.” She answered bluntly.

You felt your heart sink to your feet, and tears well up in your eyes. You actually thought she’d change her mind, thought that you meant something to her. After everything that just happened, she’s still leaving?

“Oh…”

Kit paused, swallowing before her next words. “Of course, I’ll have to be armed…”

You nodded, still staring at your lap, only half listening and not understanding.

Kit stepped in front of you, and lifted your chin to meet her gaze. “I want you to come with me.”

You froze, breath hitching in surprise, and your eyes widened at the suddenly vulnerable princess in front of you. “W-what?”

“I want you to come with me.” Kit repeated. “There’s something out there for me, I can feel it, but I don’t wanna find it without you. Think about it. On the journey, I can hunt, and you can cook. When we get to wherever we’re going, I don’t have to be a princess anymore, and you don’t have to be a servant. We can just… be. I don’t know exactly where we’re going, but I know wherever we go, I want to have you on my arm.”

You stared up at her, your brain still processing her question. She smiled at you, slightly apprehensive for your answer, and held out her arm for effect.

“I’d be better armed, if you agreed to take it.”

[perfectlyoongi]

LONG-DISTANCE!JIMIN who has a lego doll of you as a keychain. on one of your video calls, Jimin was busy with several lego pieces while you read that book that you should have finished months ago. since you were both silent, you didn’t have any need to look at Jimin and see what he was doing — a certainty in your calls was that each of you dedicated themselves to their hobby and there was never a need to talk. but when Jimin started calling your name very softly, you became curious. he contained a small smile, repeating your name with delicacy and a little grace, showing that he had something to tell you. so, when you looked at the screen and saw a lego doll with hair like yours and clothes in your favorite colors, you just smiled. Jimin was always so attentive, he loved loving you. “i’m going to use this as my keychain! i need to find a way to keep it from coming apart. when i figure it out, i’ll make a doll of myself and send it to you so we can match, what do you think?”

LONG-DISTANCE!JIMIN who has contact with your closest friend to help him make surprises for you. loving you was the most natural thing for Jimin; however, showing this love was something more complicated since kilometers of distance prevented Jimin from worshiping you as you deserved. but that was no excuse for him not to love you. one way or another, Jimin managed to get in touch with your closest friend, asking if they wanted to help him with his little surprises. from picking bouquets of flowers, creating a picnic in the middle of the park or making a quick dinner, Jimin gave so many ideas and instructions to your friend that even they themselves felt Jimin’s love for you. with surprises every now and then, ever since Jimin managed to form a friendship with that friend of yours, loving you was the most natural and easiest thing in the world. “i spoke to our mutual friend this week and they said they weren’t available this month. so i hope you know it’s their fault! i still love you!”

LONG-DISTANCE!JIMIN who keeps sending you the names of cities he wants to visit with you. Jimin had already seen the world but there was a lot of the world he hadn’t seen yet and it was these more remote corners that attracted Jimin. he didn’t even need to look; his phone already seemed to know that Jimin had a secret desire to see the world with you. by showing articles or photographs, Jimin’s phone became a complete catalog of the most beautiful and forgotten places in the world, enticing Jimin with their splendid descriptions and breathtaking images. and when he was sure that was where he wanted to go, Jimin would send you the article or photo always with the same description, adding the name of this paradise to his endless list of places to visit with you. “another paradise discovered. one day we will be here exploring these beaches. but for now, here are the photos as appetizers.”

LONG-DISTANCE!JIMIN who has your coordinates as his phone password. when Jimin met you, he never thought you would become the most important person in his life. but the reality is that in mere days and weeks, your presence began to be something essential to Jimin and, after two, three months, Jimin knew that his true home was your soul. as such, Jimin wanted to have a lot of you in his daily life to disguise his neediness. it wasn’t easy being miles away from you, but at least you were in Jimin’s life — that was all that mattered. when your feelings were acknowledged and shared, there was a mutual agreement to wait for each other — neither of you would deny your feelings, just keep them in a little box until the time was right. but Jimin was needy and Jimin needed you in his everyday life. so, what better solution than putting your city’s coordinates as your phone’s unlocker? it was something important to Jimin, something he used every day several times a day, it only made sense to make you guard his privacy, even though you were on the other side of the phone. “are you always going to move cities? i need to know if you’re really going to stay there to change my phone password. and now that i had just memorized your city…”

LONG-DISTANCE!JIMIN who is always available for a call, even when he was working. of course when Jimin is performing it’s impossible for him to talk to you, but even so, he made an effort. amidst the rush to change clothes, get hair and makeup done, Jimin always found a second to ask if you were okay. Jimin knew how important he was in your life and he knew that those kilometers away were somewhat painful. that’s why Jimin always wanted to show you that you were always his priority — whether he was working or not. whenever you needed a little ‘i love you’ made on the spot, Jimin wasn’t afraid to call you and confess right then and there. your well-being was the most important thing, Jimin didn’t want to know anything other than you. “i’m going on stage again. are you sure you’re okay? remember i’m always here. 20 minutes and i’m back, okay? i love you.”

LONG-DISTANCE!JIMIN who is never jealous but pretends to be because he knows it makes you feel important. Jimin was confident in your feelings. the words you exchanged were too comical to be empty, becoming the fortifications of your relationship, the foundations of your love. as such, Jimin knew that you loved him and that there was no one but him. but Jimin also knew that you liked to feel loved, to feel important in his life — being jealous of your friends or men who look at you was just to see you happy. Jimin found out that you liked seeing his more jealous side when he commented on a photo of you with your best friend, referring to the fact that the two of you were very close. and, since then, it was easy for Jimin to find one or another occasion to throw small words that made you feel important — it was a small effort that didn’t cost anything. “yesterday you went to dinner at that restaurant you said you wanted to take me to. i thought only i was allowed to go there with you, but apparently you like everyone’s company more, right?”

LONG-DISTANCE!JIMIN who waited for you outside your work on a friday. Jimin hadn’t told you that he was at the front of the building with a small bouquet of daisies in his hand. Jimin hadn’t told you that he had flown endless hours to be there at that moment. Jimin hadn’t told you that he had taken the weekend off to spend it with you. and Jimin had thanked himself for not having done that, because your look of astonishment when you saw him was something incomparable. it took you exactly one minute and twenty-four seconds to assimilate that image before you and, when your eyes confirmed that it was Jimin who was waiting for you downstairs, the smile you let out and the hug you gave him were the greatest gift the universe could have given to Jimin. finally you two were together. finally all those kilometers had reduced to mere millimeters. finally Jimin could love you like you deserved to be loved. “i have three whole days just for you. during this weekend i’m going to show you that it wasn’t a mistake that you chose me as the keeper of your heart. i love you so much.”

[chqolan]

Comfort at night — Ed x Reader

A/N: this was something i had written up for a while in my drafts and i’m finally posting it! unfortunately there was a weird error that happened and i had to redo the last bit of this, so apologies if it feels rushed </3

TW: gn reader, fluff, a bit of angst, ed and reader are friends ! , mentions of that card game ed talks about in world tour, author can’t write to save her life

recently his nightmares had become more frequent than usual for the first time in a while. every night felt the same — constantly bursting awake, feeling dizzy, out of breath and covered in sweat… he felt like such an idiot, like a stupid little kid who couldn’t sleep alone.

ed let’s out a sigh and grabs his phone from the nightstand as he sits up against his headboard. he glanced at the time, ‘just 1:00 am…’. with a swift motion of his thumb, he unlocks his phone and opens his messaging app. from there he sees a series of texts he’s yet to respond to, but he didn’t have time for that right now.

he glanced over your contact, contemplating wether or not he should be bothering you at this hour…

‘you up?’

to his surprise, he seen the typing icon appear from your end of the screen almost instantly.

‘yup! i might get ready to sleep soon though.’ he only watched as you continued typing, ‘did you need something?’. ed sighed and forced himself to respond in a ‘normal’ way.

‘can’t sleep.’

you glance at his response and bite the inside of your cheek, waiting to see if he’d say anything else. though after a minute or so, you caught the hint that he had no intentions of continuing. both you and ed have been familiar with each other for quite some time after he helped you with beating up some weird creeps who were following you around in the subway.

since then, the two of you had become mutual friends. he’s opened up about his past, but did so very cautiously as he didn’t want to scare you away. ed wouldn’t ever admit it — but it was comforting to have a friend who wasn’t fully involved in his past or his crazy line of work. comfort was also something that ed was never used to receiving during his years growing up… the feeling was still quite foreign, but he only ever felt it with you.

‘wanna come over to my place, then? i don’t mind staying up a bit longer.’

‘plus, it feels like a while since you’ve last swung by metro city. we should enjoy your time here together while we can!’

ed reads over your messages and hums to himself. will he ever get used to the gratitude and kindness you show him? he always tends to ask himself that same question…

‘yea, you’re right.’

‘i’ll head on over right now.’

the next thing he knew, he was at the front door to your apartment. he held a blank stare and slowly held up his fist to softly knock (more like bang) at the door. the sound of the lock fumbling from the other end was heard and you cracked the door open to take a peak. once you notice it's ed, you fully open up your door to welcome him inside.

your place was so clean and organized compared to his, he thought. just by stepping inside he felt a wave of comfort wash over him. ed makes his way over to your couch and plops down with a sigh. you could tell how exhausted he was just by looking at him...

although you didn't know the details of everything, you knew that ed has been through (and still puts up with) a lot. you'd never be able to relate to his struggles like his neo shadaloo group could, but you made sure to give him all of your comfort and support for whenever he needed it.

"i know you're not one for small talk, so i'll get to the point..." ed keeps his eyes on the blank tv screen in front of him, but you knew he was listening. you take a seat next to ed and turn your full attention to him. "what's going on? you don't look like you're holding up too well, ed." you noticed from the moment you opened the door that he looked in worse shape than usual.

the bags under his eyes made it apparent that he's been lacking proper rest time, and his pale skin was scattered with red patches, along with what you could only assume to be bruises. knowing ed, he most likely wouldn't bother to take some time off and take care of himself.

the boxer was hesitant to respond. he didn’t know how to communicate very well, and the last thing he wanted to do was accidentally lash out at you. ed looks in every direction except yours and you notice his leg started to bounce… was he nervous?

without even thinking, you placed your hand on his knee and softly stroked it. the sudden contact took ed by surprise as that same leg stopped its bouncing. there it was again — that weird sense of comfort you brought him which he would never get used to.

ed couldn’t bring it in himself to answer your question even though it was something so simple. he hated that he didn’t know how to respond. the boxer tiredly rubs his eyes and awkwardly clears his throat. “you’ve still got those cards i gave you, yea?” ed looks over at you and he can sense your small hint of confusion from him desperately trying to change topics.

to his surprise, you don’t mind and let up.

“oh, uh.. of course i do.” your response makes him crack a slight grin as he pulls out a small deck of cards from the pocket of his hoodie.

of course he carried these around with him.

nothing can stop the small laugh that you let out at the sight of him hurriedly looking through all his cards.

you remember ed telling you about this trading card game he had been into… you’ve bought him some cards on certain occasions because you’d figure he’d enjoy it with how much he seems to gush over this game. and he had also bought you a small deck of cards along with giving away some spare ones he thought were useless for him. he mentioned that it’d be useful for whenever you two had a chance to hang out and play together.

it didn’t take long for you to get up and find your small deck of cards. once you came back to your main living room, you seen ed already seated at your table. he was organizing everything and sat on the opposite side to your seat. without wasting any more time, you grab your seat and begin getting your cards ready to play.

to be honest, you weren’t sure how much time had passed. once you two played multiple rounds of that trading card game, you had binged a few comedy shows that had ed intrigued even though he would never admit… but you can tell he was into it just by how much he bantered with the episodes as they went on.

and now you were here…

ed was fast asleep as he snuggled into you. it took everything in you to hold on your giggle and not wake him up. you were certain that he wasn’t aware of how close he was holding on to you right now… he would probably die of embarrassment if he was conscious right now. ed had only asked to share your bed because it ‘looked comfy as hell’ , but in reality you knew there was definitely more reason behind it. and that’s how you can only assume it had to do with his night terrors.

it’s not a surprise that he wouldn’t admit that, but you knew better and allowed him to sleep with you for the night. his face finally looked relaxed as he slept here close to you. honestly, you also never would’ve thought he’d be the small spoon between you two.

though, you couldn’t stop thinking about how there was a part of you that felt extremely sorry for him… sometimes you can sense and feel the heart of a little boy inside of ed, but he’s forced to keep up such a rough exterior due to everything he’s been through.

the thought of it made you frown a little bit.

he deserves so much better.

although he’ll never fully tell you what’s going on, you still want to be there for him as much as you can. you gently move his hair to the side to see his full face and you instantly smile at the sight of him.

without even thinking, you slowly place a kiss on his forehead and close your eyes with an even bigger grin on your face now.

“good night, ed.”

[daffodildelight]

Enemies (Part One) | Shuntarō Chishiya x Reader

Title: Enemies (Part One) 

Pairing: Shuntarō Chishiya x fem!reader

Summary: You and Chishiya always had a rocky ‘friendship’ if you would even call it that. But feels get revealed under intense pressure

Themes/Warnings: fluff, guns, season 2 spoilers

Word count: 2500sh

A/N: So unedited, will deal with it later. First ever fanfic lol so please be nice, made this in under 3 hours.

You and Chishiya always had a rocky relationship, you had arrived at The Beach after him but slowly made your way up the ranks. Becoming semi-close friends with the Hatter can do that for you. Since you were making your way up the ranks you began getting close with all the high-ranking members, you got along with most of them except for Niragi and Chishiya. Niragi because he saw you as a piece of meat and you would do all your power to get away from him and Chishiya because in you’re eyes he sees you as a weak little girl.

But your relationship with Chishiya started to change leading up to the 10 of hearts games. He would start to act nicer towards you, making sure you had arrived from your game unscathed or even trying to make conversation with you. You had to admit, it was kind of nice. But you also found this rather confusing so you went to the one person who you could get answers from Hikari Kuina.

You found Kuina sitting in the main bar at the beach, wearing her signature blue bathing suit while chewing on her dummy cigarette. ‘’Now look what the cat dragged in, how are you doing (Y/N)’’ she looked genuine when she says this but you can see a little glint in her eye. ‘’I know you and Chishiya have gotten closer in the past few months and I was wondering if I could ask a question?’’ You tried to sound as neutral as possible but Kuina could always see right through you. ‘’Let me guess, it has to do with our mutual friend Chishiya?’’ she smirked, always right on target.

‘’Yeah, why has he been checking up on me lately? It’s getting kind of weird because it’s not in his personality. Is he trying to use my connection with Hatter to get something? I mean it’s the only logical reason’’ Kuina laughed at your comment. ‘’Only logical reason! I’ll tell you this right now but you can’t repeat this to anyone, he totally has the hots for you.’’ Now it’s you bursting into laughter. ‘’Very funny Kuina, tell me the real reason why.’’. Kuina looks stunned ‘’You know I would never lie to you (Y/N)’’. Giving up on your line of question you left with a ‘’yeah whatever.’’

A few days passed, and tensions are rising within The Beach, you can feel it. Ever since Aguni has taken over from the sidelines things are going from bad to worse. Chishiya seems more in his head than usual. You were hanging out in the bar when suddenly the P.A. went off. ‘’We would like to take this opportunity to sincerely thank you for staying at Seaside Paradise, Tokyo…’’ A man with a calming voice spoke on the P.A. Everyone at the bar looked around confused as were you, then the man continues ‘’As a token of our appreciation, we will now commence a game with all 59 participants in the venue…’’ All the TV’s around the room flash with one image which gains everyone's interest. The 10 of Hearts. The Beach is a venue and it’s a 10 of hearts game? You were not looking forward to this. ‘’All participants must assemble in the lobby immediately. The rules of the game will be explained.’’ There was a feeling in your stomach that this game was gonna cause massive problems. So you and everyone else in the bar migrated into the lobby and grabbed one of the many phones on the table to register for the game.

While waiting for all the players to arrive you make eye contact with Chishiya from across the room, none of you pulls away and it was probably the first time you never felt a dislike towards him, instead it was something much different. My focus was pulled away when someone yells ‘’Momoka!’’ and there she was living lifeless on the floor with her orange and white striped bikini knife stabbed into her heart. Being a part of the games you had seen lots of death but watching it be someone who lives in the house as you and has been helping you since you arrived sets a horrible gut feeling within you. A ding rings from the phone in your hands which now gains your attention. ‘’Game, witch hunt. The murderous witch who killed this girl is hiding amongst you in plain sight. The witch role is not limited to women. To clear the game you must find the witch and burn him or her in the fire of judgement. Time limit: 2 hours.’’ Massive roars were held within the lobby and you knew things were gonna go south within seconds. As you were trying to think of a plan to do anything Chishiya carefully grabs you by the arm and walks you away from the group in the lobby without raising any suspicion. He leads you through multiple corridors and rooms before placing you in a wardrobe. ‘’Things are going to turn into shit (Y/N), stay in here and don’t the door open for anyone except me, I’ll get you when this is finished.’’ Chishiya gets up to close the door before you ask: ‘’Why are you doing this? How do you know I’m not the witch?’’.Chishiya looks at you carefully. ‘’Because I need to know that your gonna be safe, and I know your not the witch because your not the type to kill a person (Y/N).’’ He then leaves through the door and you stay in the closet. After around 10 minutes you believe this to be a good idea because you can lot of screaming and multiple gunshots.

After what seems like an hour and a half sitting in a closet listening to screams Chishiya opens the door and pulls you out of the closet. The hallways were full of smoke and dead bodies on the floor. Chishiya takes you to Kuina and you guys make your way to god knows where. ‘’Will someone please tell me what's happening? Who’s the witch? Where’s Hatter and Aguni? Where are we even going?’’ you groaned loudly while walking barefoot into the city. ‘’Everything will be explained to you soonly (Y/N)’’.

You make your way through some ground tunnels until you reach a room with loads of dead bodies and computer scenes. Then you finally explode. ‘’What the fuck is happening!? Someone explain everything to me now! I'm so confused… where are we? Where’s hatter?” Chishiya sits me down and gives it to me straight, how hatter died a few days ago and thats why aguni took over. How Asahi told everyone she was the dealer of the game, and why Momoka killed herself because she was the witch. It was very hard to listen but Chishiya sits next to me and comforts me the best way he knows how. By stroking my hair, it was really nice minus the horrible things he was telling but all that stopped when we heard footsteps coming towards the computer scenes.  Arisu and Usagi walk through the darkness and Chishiya make us known to them. “So you actually found this place. I expected no less from you. Thanks to you two, I have all the numbered playing cards right here. Thank you.’’ Chishiya looks as smug as ever, you can’t help but feel a little bit more attracted to him.

Conversations were exchanged between the four of them, trying to figure out how each person got to the same place, and what even was this place. You tune yourself out of the conversation and decided to turn and sort out your conflicted feelings. Why did Chishiya save you? You don’t have anything to bring to the table, maybe a few hand-to-hand combat skills but that’s it. Why are you even having feelings for Chishiya? This was starting to get very annoying for you but your train of thought cuts out when all the screens turn on and you see Mira walk into the shot. Everyone exchanged confused glances. She goes on to explain how there are going to be new games and these games will be the ‘face’ card games. But it left all of us wondering, when will we ever get back home?

We all make our way into the centre of Tokyo trying to think about the new information Mira has given us. We look out into the streets of Tokyo and see multiple huge blimps with different kinds of face cards on them. One huge billboard with ‘Next Stage: Start’’ written on it. ‘’None of the games has started yet’’ spoke Arisu standing in the middle of the group looking so tired. ‘’Maybe we still have time’’ Usagi spoke next trying to reassure Arisu. ‘’Or they forgot to push the big red start button’’ Chishiya replied, Arisu and Usagi turned around and gave Chishiya a look, and I couldn’t help but give a chuckle. I noticed Chishiya smirk a little. ‘’They didn’t tell us about the rules for this one.’’ Signs Kuina. Everyone in the group continues to look around confused. Usagi looks like she notices something. ‘’What is it?’’ I ask with Chishiya to my right. ‘’I hear something’’ Usagi replies and looks towards the street. We all turn and watch the street with her. Multiple cars approach us, and I recognise them as Beach people. They all hop out of their cars and Arisu goes to investigate. ‘’What is this? What are you doing here?’’ He asks one of the members. The members of The Beach go on to say ‘’We saw the blimps show up, there are rumours that the next stage is starting’’. Arisu getting a little frustrated says ‘’Right… here's the thing’’ Suddenly the members of The Beach are getting shot down.

‘’A riffle, get moving,’’ Chishiya says in a weirdly calm way when people around him are dying. ‘’That thing is an anti-tank rifle. So I’d forget about hiding behind a car.’’ He tells the group. I decided to take initiative for Chishiya at this moment, I grab his arm and we follow Arisu towards some buildings. Chishiya runs ahead of me and covers me with the rifle. When the group meets behind the building Kuina asks ‘’Does this means the game started?’’ Chishiya quickly replies ‘’I don’t know’’. Kuina continues ‘’Did they give us any rules?’’ We slowly make our way around the building. ‘’Without rules this is just a massacre’’ Shouts Arisu. ‘’That rifle can kill from about a kilometre away,’’ Chishiya tells the group, he goes from covering me to holding my waist if not for the adrenaline I would assume my bodies reacting like this because of him. Different sounds now come from the gun. ‘’And now we’ve got an assault rifle.’’ Chishiya continues. We all huddle as a group and give comments about things we are witnessing and ideas on what could be happening. ‘’Maybe there are different shooters’’ Usagi speaks up, ‘’Other players are grouping up, I didn’t know there were this many players left’’ Kuina adds. ‘’There almost here!’’ Arisu shouts and backs away from the mysterious shooter. ‘’Let's go!’’ Arisu yells while taking the group back into the street. ‘’I don’t think this is a good idea Arisu!’’ I yell in hopes he can hear me but the blast from the rifle is too much. ‘’We need to split up’’ Chishiya yells and grabs me by the hand and pulls me from the group.

Chishiya and I start sprinting down the street, hands holding each other while bodies fall all around us. I trip on a rock and Chishiya is there to scoop me up from the ground and we continue running. Hands still interlocked tugging each other towards different directions. I see Kuina from a distance and drag Chishiya with me to catch up with her. Kuina looked grateful that somebody else was with her and the 3 of us crouched behind a car. Kuina looks down and see’s Chishiya and I’s hands interlocked. She gives me a knowing look and I turn around to focus on more important things like Arisu and Usagi running along the opposite side of the road trying to help somebody. I make eye contact with Arisu: ‘’Are you trying to get killed out there!’’ with that comment the gunman takes fire in our direction. I hide back behind the car. My back is up against Chishiya's torso and I can feel his breath on my neck. Kuina speaks up ‘’Where are they shooting from anyway?’’ we then hear a loud rumbling from above us and see the huge blimp with a kind of spade flag hanging below it. ‘’Huh, he must be the king of spades’’ Chishiya tells us he then turns to me. ‘’Take this it’s a good luck charm’’ He gives me a handmade explosive. ‘’Thank you Chishiya, I don’t know what to say’’ I can’t believe Chishiya would give up an explosive for me. ‘’Just use it if you have to.’’ and he gives me a smile. I turn to look away feeling a bit flustered but then I notice a man dressed in a long dark black cloak. I point towards him and direct Chishiya and Kuina towards what I’m looking at. ‘’That must be the king of spades’’ I whisper lightly. Chishiya whispers back into my ear ‘’I think your right’’ I turn around to say something but got caught looking into his eyes. My concentration on his eyes disappears when Kuina spots Arisu, Usagi and some random dead guy in the car next to us. ‘’Hey! You two okay? You hurt?’’ Kuina pipes up, and Chishiya gives them a wave. Shots continue to fire as we hide behind the car. ‘’We’re pinned down here’’ I say loud enough for us to hear. ‘’If we step out, he’ll get us!’’ Usagi replies. All of us try to figure out a plan to get out of there but nothing seems to be working out and the king of spades is getting closer. My train of thought gets broken when I green car that I’ve noticed from the beach before pulls in front of us honking its horn. ‘’Get in!’’ yells Tatta from the passenger seat. ‘’Tatta!?’’ Arisu and I yell in surprise and relief. ‘’Don’t just stand there!’’ someone yells from the driver's seat. ‘’Ann!’’ Kuina yells. Usagi and Arisu are the first to make their way to the car followed by Kuina, me and Chishiya. Ann opens the passenger seat and Arisu, Usagi and Kuina make it safely. Different story for Chishiya and me. A grenade is thrown towards the car door and Chishiya stops me from walking on it. ‘’That’s bad. Get going!’’ He yells towards Ann.

In a split-second decision, I decided to kick the grenade towards the kings of spades will Chishiya grabs my hand and tugged me the other way. ‘’(Y/N)! Chishiya!’’ I hear Kuina yell from the car. Chishiya pulls me behind a car and uses his body to shield me from the blast. At that moment I’m glad that I was stuck with Chishiya because I know that if I had to pick anyone out of the group to survive with it would be him and unfortunately for us, we won’t be seeing the group in a while.

[munson-blurbs]

086: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Series

Chapter 003: We're the Freaks

Summary: You muster up some courage and devise a plan to help Eddie remember the good parts of his life, while the effects of his alternate dimension adventure begin to sink in.

Warnings: dark themes, mostly canon-compliant (Eddie lives), violence, blood, restraint, amnesia, abduction, mention of shock therapy, drug use, the beginnings of mutual pining hehehe

WC: 4.4k

Divider credit to @saradika

October 31, 1984

Eddie sees you before you can even greet him, lips turning upwards in a shy smile. It’s as though he was hoping you’d be at the party, desperate for the opportunity to talk with you. He stops counting the dollar bills clenched in his left hand and casts his eyes down for a second before looking back at you. 

“Hey, uh, hi. What can I do ya for?” He bites the inside of his cheek in a silent berating. You can practically hear his brain chastising him for such an awkward opening: ‘What can I do ya for?’ Christ, am I Eddie Munson or Andy Griffith? 

You hold out the twenty dollars from Carol. “Can I buy some weed?” If Worst Conversational Skills was an Olympic sport, the two of you could easily win the gold medal. Maybe they’d even create a platinum one for your extraordinary contributions. 

Eddie either doesn’t notice the way you cringe at your own question, or he doesn’t care. He only nods, rifling through his tin box. “You want just the flower or pre-rolled?” When he’s met with no answer, he brings his focus to you again. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” No. Carol didn’t specify what she wanted; last time, he’d only had flower. Was she happy with that? Did she say anything about wishing it was already neatly rolled into a blunt for her to smoke? Your thumbnail tucks itself between your teeth, a nervous habit. You can practically picture her disdain at your potential mistake. And Heather won’t be able to hide her disappointment; not at your wrong decision, but the way you’re squandering your chance at popularity. 

“You sure?” Eddie props one elbow on the counter and gazes directly into your eyes, concern woven into his kind smile. “So you know, it’s not like cutting the wrong wire. Nothing explodes if you choose one over the other.”

Except whatever semblance of a social life you have left. “Totally fine. I’ll go with flower. Thanks.” You show him the crumpled bill again but he waves it off. 

“It’s on me.” He pulls out a baggie and gives it to you, the scent of marijuana pungent even through the plastic. “This is some good shit, too. Kinda makes me mad it’ll be wasted on Carol and Tommy.” He laughs when you freeze, caught in the act. “C’mon, you think I didn’t realize that you only bought from me when you started hanging out with them?” He crosses his arms over his chest and leans in slightly, pleased with his discovery. “Do you even smoke?”

You shake your head shamefully, not daring to make eye contact. 

“Do you want to?” This grabs your attention. “With me, not them,” he clarifies. 

“I shouldn’t…my parents would kill me if I come home high,” you start, but he cuts you off. 

“Listen, I’m not trying to pressure you or anything,” he says, latching the locks on the tin box. “Just figured we could hang out or something; y’know, maybe try and figure out how Carol manages to lodge such a huge stick up her ass.”

As if on cue, the person in question shouts your name from across the room, tone thick with impatience. Your middle finger itches to flip her off, but your cowardice wins—as usual. “I gotta get this to her,” you mumble, shoving the money back in your bag. “Thanks again.”

You begin to walk away, but his fingertips gently graze your wrist. An electric current flows between you, a spark that could burn bright if only you’d fan the flame. “Look, I’m not sure why someone as nice as you is hanging out with people like them, but if you ever need a friend—a real friend—just say the word.” The smile he offers this time is not one of amusement, but of empathy. I know what it’s like to mold myself into what people want me to be. “You like to read, right?”

His seemingly random question draws your brows skyward. “Yeah…?”

“Use that,” he juts his chin in the direction of your bag, where you’re storing Carol’s money, “to buy yourself a new book. A hardcover; none of that paperback bullshit.” He punctuates the statement with a wink. The gestures have your stomach in knots; all you want is to take his hand and talk with him for hours, leaving behind the pressures of status quo adherence, but you can’t. 

“Um, hello?” Carol’s screeching voice snaps you back into reality, and you shuffle over to her without formally saying good-bye to Eddie. 

You have eight months left until you graduate and can get as far away from Hawkins as you possibly can. But until that day arrives, you’re stuck playing the game. 

March 31, 1986

“Eighty-six.”

The voice is a whisper, an angel beckoning him towards heaven. 

“Eighty-six!” the voice hisses, urgently this time, much more Lucifer than Gabriel. 

Eddie jerks awake, wincing when the handcuff clangs against the gurney’s metal bar and digs into his wrist. He’s become accustomed to it while he’s awake, but it still catches him off-guard as he rejoins the land of the living. “Jesus H. Christ, what?” he grumbles, expecting the sinister stare of a white-coated man.

Instead, he sees you in the doorway: fear seeping from every pore, but not an ounce of malice in your eyes.

“Oh, hi,” he says sleepily, ease flooding his bones when he realizes he isn’t being subjected to more unpleasant memories or poking and prodding–yet. He uses his free hand to scratch at the stubble forming along his jawline. “055, right?”

You nod, lip firmly tucked between your teeth. His grogginess means that he’s moving at a pace far too slow for your liking, your heartbeat pulsing in your ears. “Yeah, mhm; that’s me.” You check over your shoulder to ensure no one’s coming, then duck into his room. “The doctors are busy with another patient,” you start, omitting that their busy-ness involves electroconvulsive therapy for “non-compliance,” “so we have a few minutes for me to pull a memory, if you want.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, softly but enthusiastically. A smile tugs at his lips. “Can you do another one with Dustin? But, like, a less, um, terrible one?” He can still taste his own blood in his mouth when he thinks about it.

“I’ll do my best,” you promise, standing in front of him. He looks naked without his signature wild mane; there’s no longer anything for him to hide behind. How many times had you seen him in class, carelessly running his hands through his hair, his rings getting snagged on a rogue curl? All of it–the jewelry included–is now gone. You can’t even reassure him that it’ll grow back, because the doctors will ensure that it’s kept closely shaved. 

He assumes the same position as he did the previous day, but with one major difference: he extends his hand, an unmistakable attempt to hold yours.

“Oh, um,” you stammer, simply staring at it. “We don’t…you don’t need to do that for this to work,” you supply.

Eddie withdraws, not only his hand, but his body caves in from the rejection. He gives a quick nod, shoulders gently hunched so he takes up less space. 

Immediately, your heart lurches. “I mean, we can if you…if it’ll help you feel better.” If you want to is too loaded a statement to make. “I just wanted you to know that it isn’t, like, required.”

“I know.” 

With those two words, you reach out and take his palm in yours, sweat-slicked despite the lab’s perpetual chill. The rough calluses on his fingertips scratch against your skin as his lifelines merge with your own.You remember comparing with Heather back in fourth grade, sitting on a bench during recess while the other kids played dodgeball or fought over the playground's sole tire swing. She swore that she could read some hidden meaning behind them. You’d always thought it was mumbo-jumbo, that there was no way she could obtain that information from etches in your hand or the direction of your fingerprint swirls. 

When she’d read her own palm, how long did she say she would live? Was it eighteen years, the age she was on that fateful night?

“You okay?” Eddie’s head is cocked slightly as though examining the gears turning within your skull. “I dunno if this hurts you or anything, but we don’t have to do this,” he says. “I’ll get my memories back another way.” 

You shake your head, well-aware that there aren't any other feasible options, especially for happy memories. The scientists only want to see who was with him in the Nether, and from what you’ve gleaned, no part of that experience was pleasant. 

“It’s fine,” you mutter, embarrassed that he has to comfort you. “It doesn’t hurt me. You’re the one who’ll end up with a headache,” you point out. 

“Fair enough.”

You swallow your nerves, heart beating in your ears. If the doctors find you in here unsupervised and without permission…your mind won’t allow you to consider the consequences. Perhaps you’ll be next in line for Ol’ Shocky. “I need you to think about your friend Dustin. Picture him and bring the image to the forefront of your mind. Try not to let your thoughts wander.”

Eddie nods, mouthing Dustin’s name over and over as you delve deep into his brain, using his sole memory—and your memory of that memory—as guidance. 

After what seems like eons, you latch onto one and tug it to the surface triumphantly. You can feel blood trickling down your nose and over your lips, but you do your best to focus on the task at hand. 

Hawkins High’s cafeteria is buzzing with excited conversation, the phrases ��I missed you!” and “how was your summer?” and “did you hear about what happened at Starcourt?” seem to be constants. A banner hung up in the entryway reads ‘WELCOME BACK, TIGERS!’, complete with an illustration that some poor art club sap was probably volunteered to paint. 

Eddie keeps his gaze trained on the tile floor, avoiding anyone and anything. He just needs to get to his table, eat lunch, and repeat every day until—

The sound of a lunch tray clattering to the ground, followed by a cacophony of malicious chuckles, grabs his attention. He watches as a group of seniors gather around a table, laughing hysterically. 

“C’mon, seriously?” A kid—Dustin, you both determine from the earlier memory pull—whines at the ruined pizza slice below him. 

“What’s that?” One of them sneers. “I don’t speak Mushmouth.”

Dustin rolls his eyes and flips off the older kid. “You’re lucky Steve graduated already, or he’d kick your ass!” he shouts.

The second boy hides his face as though hoping he won’t be their next victim, but his vulnerability makes him a prime target. Down, down, down falls his lunch, followed by one belonging to a scrawny kid who looks like a poster boy for The Gap. 

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, wanting to ignore the situation, but his conscience steers him towards the kids. “Show’s over,” he grumbles, using the strength acquired from lugging amps to break it up. He grabs one of the bullies by the collar—a jock, Andy something-or-other, according to his letterman jacket—and snarls, “get the fuck outta here before I tip off your coach to check your piss.” 

Andy just nods, attempting to play it cool, but Eddie can feel him trembling under his grip. He puffs up his chest and walks away, taking his posse with him. 

“Thanks,” Scrawny Kid mumbles, haphazardly brushing chocolate milk residue off his clothes. He refuses to make eye contact, thoroughly humiliated on his first day of high school. 

“Don’t mention it,” Eddie says casually. “Just, uh, it might help your case if you don’t dress like some prep school wannabe.” He grins, and to his delight, the boys smile with him. 

Scrawny Kid shakes his shaggy hair from his eyes. “I’m Mike, and this is Lucas,” he points to the kid who’d tried to make himself invisible, “and Dustin.” The kid branded ‘Mushmouth’ gives a small wave. 

Eddie clicks his tongue. “Weird Al, huh?” he laughs, unable to hide his amusement at Dustin’s choice of t-shirt. “Christ, you three are clueless.” He cocks an inquiring eyebrow. There’s one place he can take them under his wing and keep them safe from the moldy jockstraps known as the Hawkins High basketball team. 

“You little freaks ever play Dungeons and Dragons?”

The sound of approaching footsteps down the hall pulls you from his psyche, and you blink a few times to clear your vision. “Shit, I’m sorry.” You swipe at the blood under your nose, leaving a crimson stain in its wake. “I gotta go, but we can meet up again tomorrow.” You start towards the door, but his uncuffed hand reaches out and grabs your wrist, drawing you back.

“Wait…before you go.” Fear radiates from his deep brown irises. “I know you’ll have to pull more memories–bad ones–for them.” He swallows thickly, trying to stave off tears. “But if they ask you to do it while I’m sleeping, can you wake me up first?” he asks weakly. 

Realization crashes over you; his first returned memory was his near death, watching his friend witness the life draining from his limp body. 

“Yes.” The word is firm, confident, though you’re making a promise you’re unsure you can keep. 

Eddie manages a small smile, but it emanates gratitude, and you return it. You want to stay, to search for every happy moment in his life and allow him to bask in their joy, even if just for a moment. But both of you risk serious punishment if you’re caught, and so you make your escape as inconspicuous as possible.

Eddie lays back, staring at the fluorescent lights until his eyes start to water. Thoughts swirl through his mind, a roller coaster off of its track. In addition to Dustin, there’s Mike and Lucas. And Dustin had mentioned someone named Steve, which rang the faintest of bells. 

It’s a common name, he thinks. Could be anyone. Yet something deep inside nags at him, an instinct that he can’t shake. 

Dustin Lucas Mike Steve. 

Dustin Lucas Mike Steve. 

Dustin Lucas Mike Steve. 

He twists the bed sheet below him until the thin fabric tears with an audible riiiiiip. His life has been reduced to two meager moments: saving three nerds from a jockstrap with an inflated ego, and losing in a battle against some bat-like creatures. Nothing before that, and nothing between. 

The after is right now, imprisoned in this room with no evidence of a crime, let alone anything pinning him as a suspect. 

Dustin Lucas Mike Steve. 

Dustin Lucas Mike Steve. 

Dustin Lucas Mike Steve. 

He wills himself to remember any other details. What was it that he said at the memory’s conclusion? Something about Dungeons and Dragons?

“C’mon,” Eddie mutters, eyelids shut tight in concentration. Maybe it would be better to keep them open, like he does when you’re pulling a memory. Since there’s nowhere else to look, he stares down the broken clock, all three hands frozen in place. 

Dustin Lucas Mike Steve. 

Dustin Lucas Mike Steve. 

Dustin Lucas Mike—

The hour hand ticks forward. 

Eddie shoots up, yanking the cuff along with his body. No, he must be hallucinating. When was the last time he ate something? Or perhaps the ancient batteries had a little kick left in them. 

Something implores him to try it again. 

His eyes lock onto the clock, channeling all of his anger and confusion to move the hand another centimeter. 

There’s a gentle splintering noise, so quiet that he’d be unable to hear it if another person in the room was breathing. It gets louder until the glass frame covering the clock face shatters completely, shards clattering to the floor like rain. 

No battery glitch could explain that. And it couldn’t explain his nosebleed, identical to yours when you utilized your powers. 

He can’t even clean his face before dizziness overtakes him, and it all goes black. 

November 9, 1984

It’s been just over a week since Tina’s Halloween party. The talk of the high school is still Steve and Nancy’s bathroom argument—and subsequent breakup—though new developments about two teachers getting frisky in the staff lounge has taken some of the attention away from them. 

“Hey,” Carol says, leaning against the locker next to yours and obnoxiously popping her bubble gum, “that shit you got from The Freak was pretty good.” She raises her eyebrows in amusement and challenge. “If you can score some more, you and Heather should smoke with us.”

Translation: you’ll get more weed, and if you don’t, I’ll tell Heather that you ruined it for everyone. You can picture the look of disappointment on her face, slumped shoulders and dejected frown screaming, you let me down. 

“Yeah, I’ll see if he still has any,” you mumble, grabbing your history textbook and slamming the door. You spin the lock’s dial and give it a tug to ensure it’s closed, giving Carol the chance to leave. 

She doesn’t. 

“Y’know, maybe it’s because Heather’s been vouching for you,” she starts, blowing another watermelon-scented bubble, “but you’re not as much of a drag as I thought you were.” It’s her version of a compliment, and you hesitantly accept it with a nod. “Anyway, eight o’clock. My place.” She flounces off, probably to find and cling to Tommy, leaving you with a churning gut.

The closest you’ve ever been to smoking weed was getting a contact high at the party. Carol and Tommy hadn’t offered to share, and you didn’t certainly volunteer yourself. If you try and end up coughing like a tuberculosis patient, you’ll never live it down. If you decline to smoke with them, you’ll all but solidify your role as the loser, straight-laced outsider and catapult yourself from their inner circle. And if you don’t show up at all? Heather will never forgive you.

You keep your textbook clutched to your chest, making a beeline for class. Goody two-shoes can’t be late. No, she’ll get there early; maybe place a shiny red apple on the teacher’s desk, and sit patiently with her hands folded. Just like she always has; just like she always will.

You’re so intensely focused that you bump into someone, your head snapping up at the sudden collision. The textbook slips from your grip and hits the ground with a thud. 

“What’s the big rush?”

Eddie. 

You shake your head. “Nothing. Sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going—”

“No worries,” Eddie says with a small laugh, leaning over and picking up the book. He hands it to you and smiles. “See you around?”

Now’s your chance. “Actually, I was hoping we could meet up after school,” you force out the request, not realizing the implication until he cocks his brow. “To buy some more, um…” You look away, unable to finish the sentence in fear that the wrong person will overhear. 

Eddie grins, eyes alight with anticipation. “Yeah, of course,” he replies. “After school, during lunch, even right now, if you want. Got it all in here.” He gives his tin box a proud slap. 

“After school is fine,” you say hurriedly. There’s that one other favor you need; it hides behind your molars and sticks to your tongue. “Would…could you maybe…show me how?” Your cheeks are so hot that your face may as well be ablaze. “Carol asked me to join them, but I’ve never…and I don’t wanna look like a total moron…” Shut up, shut up, shut up. 

His face briefly shifts expressions, something resembling disappointment, though you can’t pinpoint it before his usual shy smile returns. “Sure. Meet me by the picnic benches right after last period.”

“Thanks.” You give your book a squeeze, fingernails digging into the old newspaper you’d repurposed as a book cover. Eddie gives a quick nod before disappearing into the hallway, packed with students. The whole encounter has your head spinning; you’re going to smoke pot in the woods with Eddie Munson. It’s almost distracting enough to make you late to class. 

Almost. You’re not risking detention for this. 

March 31, 1986

Eddie awakens to the pungent odor of vinegar and something sulphuric, rousing him back to consciousness. His eyes water even after Dr. Snell removes the bundle of smelling salts from under his nose.

“086,” the doctor says stoically, fishing a tiny key from his pocket. His unnerving stare never leaves Eddie as he unlocks the cuff and untangles the chain. “I see you’ve been busy.” He gestures towards the pile of broken glass on the floor, lips twitching with the faintest hint of amusement.

“It was an accident,” Eddie mumbles, flexing his wrist and feeling the blood begin to circulate again.

Dr. Snell chuckles, sending a shiver shooting down Eddie’s spine. “Was it?” He leans over; Eddie hates his confidence that he won’t be attacked. All he wants is to wring the man’s neck like a washcloth, but he recalls your advice to earn their trust. He’ll have to remain calm if he ever wants to learn more about Dustin, Mike, Lucas, or Steve; if he ever wants to learn more about himself. 

Eddie nods pathetically. Technically, he’d only been trying to make the hand move again, to see if it was just a fluke, but he’d ended up with a shattered clock instead. “I don’t understand how…”

“Dr. Moseley would like to conduct some tests.” Dr. Snell selects his words carefully. “See what other new skills you’ve acquired during your little adventure.”

“No…” Eddie starts, catching himself before he can protest further. He swallows, throat sore with aridness. “I mean, I don’t think I have any other, um, skills.”

The doctor sneers. “That’s for us to determine, isn’t it?” He tugs on Eddie’s arm, hoisting him from the cot and guiding him down a long, dimly-lit hallway. His torso aches with each step, but when he tries to stop and breathe, Dr. Snell continues pulling him along.

“G-Gimme a sec,” Eddie finally pleads aloud, and the doctor relents with an irritated huff. It’s not from sympathy–Eddie doubts there’s a selfless bone in the man’s ugly body–but likely because he wants to avoid a ripped stitch or another fainting spell. Whatever the reason, he’s grateful for the small break.

The room he’s brought to is white on white; there’s not a stitch of color. He’s seated at a table while doctors attach adhesive-backed electrodes to his temples and forehead, cold and slimy on his skin. 

Salt-and-Pepper—Dr. Moseley, he surmises—approaches him with a thin-lipped smile. “Good afternoon, 086.” But there’s nothing good about it, and Eddie can’t even be sure it’s truly the afternoon. “I heard you had a bit of an incident today, yes?”

The doctor already knows the answer, so Eddie doesn’t bother to lie. “Yes. I, um, made the clock hand move and then broke the glass. With my mind,” he adds, as though there was any confusion about the means in which it occurred. 

“Excellent.” Dr. Moseley shoos the others out of the room, so he and Eddie are alone. As soon as the door closes, he sits in a chair across from his patient, tapping a pen on a clipboard. 

“I’m going to ask you to complete a series of tasks,” he tells him, somehow already marking notes. “Some tasks will be to assess your existing abilities; others will be to strengthen them.” He motions towards a large monitor. “This will detect any changes in brain wave activity with remarkable accuracy.” 

In other words, don’t phone it in. You will be caught. 

Dr. Moseley grabs a rubber ball off of a shelf, rolling it in between his palms before placing it in front of Eddie. “We’ll start off slow; see where you are.” He clears his throat. “Move this ball–using only your mind–as far as you can manage.” 

Eddie nods, clearing every thought except for move. Move move move. He chants it silently, his lips parting but no sound coming out. Maybe if he does this, they’ll be less stringent about memory accession. Maybe you’ll get him to a point where he can begin to connect the dots and remember on his own. Maybe—

“Focus, 086.”

He makes a strangled noise in response. Move move move. Move for Dustin, for Lucas, for—

The ball rolls slightly—not even a full inch—but it’s noticeable enough to draw approval from the doctor. 

“Well done, 086. And on your first try.” God, Eddie would love to smack the smirk clean off of his face. “Let’s continue with our assessment, shall we?”

There’s a memorization task next; apparently, his short-term recall is above average, Dr. Moseley reports. After this, the doctor makes drawings on a notepad that Eddie must decipher without physically looking at them. It’s by far the most difficult of the activities. He harnesses all of his energy trying to determine what is being sketched, but he comes up blank each time. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, wiping the blood from his nose. “I can’t do it. I want to,” he adds, not wanting his inability to be misconstrued as disobedience, “but I can’t.”

To his utter shock, Dr. Moseley accepts this, likely because the monitor corroborates his admission. “Not yet. But with continued training, you will.” He detaches the electrodes from Eddie’s head snd motions for him to stand with one crooked finger, and Dr. Snell re-enters at the same time. 

“Wait,” Eddie chokes out as the second doctor leads him away, “I noticed something.” He takes a breath, garnering the doctors’ attention. “I was able to break the clock and move the ball when I thought about Dustin—” he stops abruptly, not wanting to give away the secret session you’d had earlier. “I think if 055 finds more memories with them—him—I’ll be able to channel that emotion into doing more tasks.”

The room falls dead silent until Dr. Moseley speaks. “I’ll consider it,” he finally says. 

Not a win but not a loss, Eddie thinks as he shuffles back down the hallway, feet sticking to the tile. But I’m not going down without a fight. No way. 

--

tag list (still open):

@munsonmuses @vintagehellfire @chrissymjstan @munsonology @lady-munson @roadkill-writes @randomreader1999 @babez-a-licious @madelynraemunson @the-unforgivenn @nailbatanddungeon @lokis-army-77 @laurenlokirby @american-idiot-jpg @str4ngergirlw0rld @gnrquinn @katethetank @inourtownofhawkins @rorylover71 @kirisuteg0men @tlclick73 @aysheashea

[airam1quhs]

🏵️Working Things Through🏵️ | K.C.

(requested by @kay-random [request: Kurt and reader are together but reader gets insecure cuz of uh courtney soo yeah he comforts her saying he wouldn’t leave her or any way u want :)]

Warnings/Notes: Courtney is not the antagonist! Other than that, just hurt-comfort :) Enjoy!

“Who, Kurt? Oh yeah, he’s great!”

“So you guys are in contact?”

“In theory yeah, for sure. Of course I haven’t talked to him as much since he married that girl. But he’s a person I connected very well with. I was really kind of shocked when we stopped contacting each other!”

“You should give him a call sometime!”

“Yeah, I agree. Hey Kurt!” Courtney Love looked directly at the camera with a grin that conveyed many things. “We should start talking again sometime!” Courtney winked. Winked.

She picked up the flipper and turned the tv off, flopping back on the couch with a frown. She heard the playing from the other room fade to silence, a clunk which was no doubt him setting the guitar down, and then footsteps growing louder.

“Hey, love, I just finished writing in there.” Kurt came out into the living room and stood in the entrance. He was in his pjs, looking as pretty as always with blond hair a mess around his head, and stubble dotting at his jaw. And of course the new ring on his left hand.

“The tv’s off? Didn’t you wanna watch mtv?” He approached the coffee table, picking up the flipper and turning to look at her. “Can I turn it on, then?”

She nodded wordlessly, watching as he hit the red ‘on’ button and the tv lit up, flipping over to to MTV. To her exasperation Courtney Love’s face reappeared on screen.

“Ah, Courtney!” Kurt said lightly. “She’s always got something interesting to say.”

He plopped down next to her, covering his hand with her own and fully watching.

Ugh stop, that wink was for comedic effect. You’re overthinking again.

She pursed her lips and said nothing.

***

“Hey, Kurt, uhm-“ She faltered slightly, “There’s a message here from Courtney.”

Kurt came trotting out in his socks, looking interested. “How did she even get our new number?”

“I don’t know. Somebody working with you probably gave it to her.”

“What’s it say?” He walked closer towards the phone, putting a warm hand on her shoulder.

She played the message:

“Hey Kurt! At least I hope it’s Kurt. If not, sorry to bother you, girl, could you pass it over to Kurt? Yeah, okay. Kurt it’s been a while. You should come out and play with us! Come to my place on the 21st? You know my address. I’ll have everything ready, just bring your guitar. Really looking forward to seeing you again!”

Kurt listened quietly, nodding. “Yeah, I do think we should play together. I really admire her art, honestly. I think we could make something nice together,” He seemed to trail off, thinking about it.

“If I’m at my best.”

“How do you know her address?” She asked him with a furrow of her brow.

“Oh, I’ve been to her house with a mutual friend a while ago. ’91, I think?”

“Okay.” She said plainly, not knowing what else to add even while she felt like she should say something.

“So… you’re, gonna go?”

“Yeah. I think it could be productive. I don’t think I have any plans that day, yeah?”

“Yeah, probably not…”

“Okay, then it’s set!” He smiled at her, placing a quick kiss on her lips before heading back to their room. She watched his back as it disappeared across the corner, cringing at her own internal monologue. She shook her head, before turning back to the phone.

***

He still wasn’t home. Why was he still out? Hadn’t it been long enough for them to create something? Would he voluntarily stay there for so long if they could be done?

Why are you thinking so much? You know he would never hurt you like that. This is stupid. He’s been nothing but good to you and these thoughts are how you repay him?

She twiddled her thumbs in her lap, shifting in her seat on the faded couch restlessly. The shaking of her knees against the coffee table caused the drink in her mug to spill, and she groaned, voice cracking with disuse as she hadn’t spoken since Kurt had left. Which was nine hours ago.

The liquid had spilled all over the table and was dripping onto the ground. She launched herself up to grab tissues but just knocked the mug to the floor in the process. She sucked in a deep breath and struggled not to cry. Don’t. Hyperventilate. Don’t.

She heard the door unlatch and steeled herself. She needed to calm down. These emotions were baseless and even more useless. Yeah, that’s right. This doesn’t need to be thought about anymore.

Kurt stepped into the house, kicking off his shoes and smiling very slightly as he placed them on the rack to his left.

“I’m home.” He called from the entrance, walking forward towards her.

“It’s ten. You said you’d be back for dinner.”

“Oh, shit, I did, didn’t I,” He grimaced, apologetic. “I’m sorry, love. We were in… a bit of a fervor.”

She let out a short laugh and spoke under her breath “Yeah. A creativity fervor.”

She spared a look up at him from wiping down the table, spotting his minute frown. That was the way it was with him. He was supposed to pick up on her feelings. Which she supposed was part of the reason why she felt so hurt.

With a clearly audible sigh she stood up, tossing her tissue in the garbage can, before moving to the door where Kurt had been not long ago, brushing past him in the process as she reached up to grab her coat off the clothing rack.

Kurt walked over, footsteps more hesitant now. “Hey, love… what’s wrong?”

“No it’s fine. I’m just going to go for a walk. Maybe get a cup of coffee.” She pulled on her coat, voice slightly muffled by the fabric pulling over her.

He perked up slightly, reaching for his own coat which he had just hung up next to her, “I’ll come with you.”

“No Kurt. You must be really tired. Go sleep.”

Her reaction seemed to trigger something in him. His movements halted, and he slowly retracted his arm, instead laying it on hers.

He spoke lightly, looking directly at her and turning her to face him with a worried look.

 “Darling? What is it? You seem to be holding things in. You know you can tell me and I won’t judge, yeah? I hope I haven’t, well, given you an impression that says otherwise.”

At first she pressed her lips together, looking at him. Okay. You need to speak now or it’ll get awkward.

“I-” Her voice cracked and she cringed. What had happened to her self-confidence? Her belief in her own abilities?

She let out a shaky breath, looking down and focusing on the floorboards as tears welled up in her eyes. Don’t hyperventilate.

“Hey, love, look at me.” He placed his hands tentatively on her cheeks, as if asking permission, before tilting her face upwards so she was once again looking at him.

He faltered slightly, likely noticing the glistening of her eyes, before his face softened even more, if possible.

She couldn’t help it. Her sight was blurring together and her breathing was watery. She tried to blink but it just allowed the tears to find a path out of her heavy eyelids, one on either side flowing down her cheeks. It was like a dam broke and suddenly she was shaking all over. Sobbing now.

She couldn’t see him through her closed eyes, but she felt his hands move from her face to wrap around her back, the soft fabric of his sweater against her hands and his hair tickling at her face as he pulled her in.

“C’mon. Talk to me.”

“I don’t know…” she took a deep breath to try to get her words out, “I know it’s stupid and baseless but-”

“Listen.” She felt his voice gain a newfound serious tone, the vibrations moving through her chest. “I will never think your emotions are stupid or invalid. You can talk to me no matter what. I care about you. Don’t bottle them in, love, or they’ll burst out and harm you when you don’t want them to. I know about that.” He paused, voice regaining its quiet, “Now, uhm- you can keep going.”

“I just… I guess I just felt jealous. You were- complimenting her, and her art, and I-I guess she’s just the type of person who likes to stir things up, and even though I’m pretty sure she doesn’t mean any real harm, I- I just didn’t really feel safe? I felt kind of threatened by her. And I know you- you’d never but-” She groaned. “I feel so bad. For having so little trust in you!”

“No, no, I don’t blame you. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on this sooner.”

“I still feel guilty. That’s why I never… told you about it. I knew you were just there to play music. And I wanted you to go because I knew you’d enjoy it. So much. And I want you to do the things you love.”

“And thank you so much for that.”

“It’s just, when it got late and hours after the time you said you’d be home, I guess I let my mind wander. And… that’s almost never a good thing.”

“Make no mistake, love, I… take full responsibility for this-”

“Don’t say that-”

“But I also want you to know, that I would never purposefully hurt you, okay? Today, her entire band was there. All we did was write. And also... you're perfect just the way you are. Yes, I like Courtney's art, but there's so much more that I love about you.”

She just nodded, slowly but surely calming down, breathing deeper and regularly.

“Talk to me about anything you want, whenever you want. I love you.”

She sniffled slightly, “I love you too, Kurt.”

She felt him let out a breath, and his stubble tickled at her head.

“Let’s go, uh, lay in bed together?”

Finally, the corners of her lips twitched upwards, “Let’s go.”

[abibliophobiaa]

right where you left me

chapter three coming 11/13, read on for preview…

——

The Hideout is bustling with customers. Endless rows of children constructing and decorating gingerbread houses at one table, while parents and family members alike mill about at the other tables, conversations about the upcoming holidays filtering through your ears as you pass by, handing off drinks and food.

Steve’s not here yet. A fact you notice as you watch the table of your friends grow, the group bent low together, beaming at what the other is saying, caught up in their company as day turns into night.

You’re finishing up handing off water to a table of teenagers when you notice Abi waving you over, a weary look in her eyes. It’s when your gaze travels southward you notice the shaggy blonde curls that you couldn’t forget even if you tried. Nor the pristine suit and tailored pants, the too expensive watch, that tie cinched around his neck. Green eyes drift your way from the bar, arms crossing over a toned chest. Chiseled cheekbones give way to blonde stubble, a messier look than you’re used to on Clark’s conventionally attractive features.

His eyes narrow at your appearance. To him, you’re wearing no more than a pair of jeans you bought off of a clearance rack, and a black sweater with a hole in one sleeve after you’d gotten it caught on Steve’s truck handle. He’s seen you in designer gowns, shoes, decked to the nines with jewelry, looking like the ever dutiful daughter. And now — now his eyes roam your form with distaste, the curl of his lip making your stomach drop.

“I can ask him to leave,” Abi murmurs low against your ear as you slip behind the bar to join her, “just say the word, and he’s gone. Eddie wouldn’t mind if I toss him out. He’s kind of an asshole anyway. Asked me if I had a specific bottle of wine, and scoffed when I said we didn’t. I almost told him he could shove the credit card he slapped against the bar up his ass.”

“Sounds about right,” you grumble, giving her hand a little squeeze. “I’ll be okay. And if not, and you catch me ready to throw a glass and lose my job —”

“I’ll turn the other way and pretend I didn’t see it.”

Offering her a smile, you slip back out and round the bar, grabbing Clark’s sleeve and tugging him to a smaller table positioned away from everyone else. From here, you can see Steve when he arrives and escape if need be. Huffing, you cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head up, staring into that blank stare.

“So this is where you ran off to,” he tuts, snickering, “it’s…charming.”

“It’s where I grew up,” you tell him flatly, “it’s home.”

“Home is in the city,” he says, leaning up onto his elbows, hand coming to curl over your own. Your eyes narrow at the contact, at the feeling of his finger cradling the back of your palm. “Come home. Stop this, please? Your family misses you, your friends miss you — believe it or not, I miss you.”

You bark out an incredulous laugh. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Darling…” The hand around yours tightens, and you know he’s trying to narrow your window of escape, to ensure you stay rooted in place. “We had fun together, didn’t we?”

“At events, sure.”

He was kind enough. Was willing to laugh with you, to joke and tease, to talk. But there was nothing of any sort of romantic nature beneath the surface. Your marriage was intended for monetary purposes and those alone.

“You hardly even gave us a chance.”

“Clark, we were in an arrangement,” you remind him. “A mutually beneficial agreement for both of us.”

“Which has since fallen through.”

“And I am sorry about that —”

“Then come home,” he says again, eyes intent on your face. “Come. Home.”

“This is my home,” you whisper, catching the sight of Steve walking by in the window. His eyes immediately narrow at the sight of Clark across from you.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Clark lets out a bitter laugh as Steve appears in the doorway, approaching your table cautiously. “This is the guy you ran out on me with. Him? You’re choosing him. What can he offer you that I cannot?”

——

i don’t know, what can steve offer that clark can’t? you’ll find out monday. hehe 😉

[islandtarochips]

THE WARRIOR WITHIN (Modern Warfare I Fanfic)

Arthur’s Note: This is a fanfic story about that game called “Call of Duty: Modern Warfare”. There will be some skip forward in this story for most of you already know how the campaign worked (If not, I suggest you should watch it on YouTube to see the WHOLE campaign). So I don’t want to bore my audience reading this. This fanfic story is also a crossover for my mutual OCs and mine! Joining into this mission! I will also be showing the name of the OCs and the owners who own them at the VERY bottom. And also, let me know if I missed anything or did I make any mistakes from here. So I hope you guys enjoy it! Fa’afetai tele lava!

CHAPTER ONE:

~After the Incidents from Verdansk~

It was a disaster. 

Officer Alex Keller and the Marines had already lost the Russian Gas. Most of the marines are also dead because of the Al-Qatala.

Laswell is on the brink in these heavy situations. Already been angered by the General of the Marines. So she can’t ask for their help anymore. Not after what happened to their men from that mission. 

She had already called Price about the Russian Gas and was already planning on striking London. So he’s already debriefing.

But she knows that Price needed more help. Even Alex needed an assistant in Urzikstan to find that missing gas.

So she started to contact the first person that she could think of. To help Alex first.

“¿Hola?” A female voice had answered on the line.

“Officer Martinez?”

“Laswell? Is that you?”

Laswell smiled softly, able to hear a friendly and familiar voice. “Yes, it’s me. Am I calling you at a bad time?”

“No no! Not at all! I just finished talking with Colonel Vargas from a meeting. Why? Did something happen?”

“BIG time. The Wolf had sent Al-Qatala to steal the Russian gas. And they had succeeded. I’m sending Officer Keller to go to Urzikstan to find it but he needs assistant.” Laswell sighs before continuing to speak. “Are you up for the task, Aly?”

There was silence on the line. Laswell understands that there’s a LOT for her to take in. But she REALLY needed help.

“Aly?”

“When do you need me?”

Laswell looked at her phone feeling a bit surprised that Aly agreed to start this mission. “As soon as possible. I’m surprised that you’re agreeing with this.” She heard a giggle from the line. “As long as it doesn't involve the cartel business.”

Laswell chuckled softly. “Well, Alex will meet you at the location that I’m going to send you. So that you BOTH can go over there.”

“But it’s only the two of us that you’re gonna send. Would that be enough?”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to call an old friend. I…hope that we still are.”

Laswell started to walk over to her laptop to type in someone’s name before it showed on the screen. And taking a deep breath. “I’ll let you and Alex know about the situation. Hopefully she’s okay to send some of her Marines to assist you guys. Give me a call when you get there, alright?”

“Of course. But…you sure you don’t want me to help you out with this call? Because…when you told me about your past ‘FRIENDSHIP’ with this woman. Isn't a very good kind of friendship.”

Laswell chuckled softly after hearing Aly’s worried tone. “It’s fine, Aly. I’ll be okay. I have my way of talking with tough shells.”

“Well…if you’re sure, Kate. I’ll talk to you later, ok?”

“Sure.”

“Alright…good luck talking with her, Laswell.” Then she hung up.

Laswell looked at the screen of her laptop as she sighed deeply. Don’t even know if she could call this person or not. But she knows that it’s the world that needs to be saved before it’s too late.

So she took the risk by making a video call. “Yeah…wish me luck.” She mumbled those words to herself.

She waited as her laptop started to ring. Feeling anxious but hoping that this person answered.

Then she saw the call being answered as she cleared her throat. She looked at the woman on the screen with a man next to her. A woman who is wearing a uniform to show her General rank standards. While the man next to her was just wearing any other regular military uniform.

“Laswell. Been a while.” The woman spoke with an unsatisfied look.

Laswell slowly swallowed the nervousness into her throat after seeing this woman on screen. “It has been, General Kalani.”

She saw the man standing next to the General as she recognized the face. “Ah. Rangi Toa. Are you still a Lieutenant or up as General like her right there?”

Hearing a soft chuckle from this man as he started to speak. “Colonel, ma’am. And it’s good to see you again.”

Laswell and the Colonel gave each other a soft smile before Kalani interrupted. “What is it that you want, Laswell? And I’m sure that this call is not about checking up on me. Is it?”

“No…it isn’t ma’am. I just needed help. For your Marines-’

“Absolutely not.”

“But you didn’t get to hear of what else I was-”

“ABSOLUTELY. NOT. Laswell. We’ve already discussed this a few years ago and I’m STILL keeping my words.” Alana said with a bit of anger in her tone. Which gives an awkward and a bit of an uncomfortable look from Rangi. While he feels a bit sorry for Laswell.

“General. Please. The world is at STAKE here.” Laswell begged the General as she started to explain about the situations with the Wolf, The Al-Qatala and the stolen Russian gas. Which annoyed Kalani even MORE.

“Why not send YOUR Marines?”

“We…We already tried that. We’ve lost MANY.”

“Tch. No surprises there. Everything that involves you ALWAYS has a cost of losing MANY.” The General scoffed while snaring her words to the CIA woman.

Laswell gripped her hands into a fist trying not to lash out on her. She took a deep breath before looking down. “Alana…I know in the past…you’ve lost one man. The man which I promise to bring back alive under my guidance.” She continues to speak as she still keeps her posture. “But you can’t just let the past hold you from HELPING someone.”

Alana glared at Laswell through the screen. “Oh. I don’t let the past get to me. But the ONLY person from the past that I won’t be helping is YOU. So I’m sorry. I just can’t RISK it.”

“General, please-”

As the General was about to hang up the call she felt Rangi’s hand touching her shoulder. He gave her a soft look. “General, if I may?”

Alana looked at her Colonel. Seeing he wanted to talk to her about reconsidering. She glanced at the screen where Laswell was at before looking back at Rangi.

He gave her a pleading look which it gave her in with a sigh of defeat. She looked back at the laptop screen. “We’ll get back to you, Laswell.” Then she turned off the mic and the video. Leaving Laswell in the dark.

She started to feel even more anxious about what they’re going to talk about. She needs help and needs answers NOW. The clock is ticking and the enemies are already on the run. With the gas in the wild and the terrorist going to strike in London.

So many things have been going through her mind right now. She was a confident woman but now that confidence has been whipped away. Ever since they lost that gas. She was walking back and forth a little while trying to calmly breathe.

Then she heard Alana calling from screen after a minute or two.

“Laswell? Are you still there?”

Laswell quickly got to the screen as she lay her hands on the table. While leaning forward. “Y-Yes. I’m here.”

She looked at the General seeing her staring into her own soul through the screen. Before seeing her sighing. “I will send you only TWO members of the Task Force.”

Laswell raised her eyebrows with surprising feelings inside of her. “A…Task Force?”

“Yes. The Warriors Task Force but only two will be available. The other ones are on their leaves so I CAN’T bring them back.” Alana explained before started to send info of those two soldiers. To Laswell’s laptop.

“One shall go to London. She’s in Afghanistan right now.” Alana explained before Rangi jumped in.

“But I’m sure it’s not TOO far away. Only 7 hours to ride from there to London. Will that be a problem, ma’am?” Rangi asked while looking through the camera.

“No, Colonel. She’ll be there during a fight scene if the bomb activates. Who is she?”

“Sergeant Agnes Falagi.” Alana answered before showing the photo of a female soldier that has brown hair, brown eyes and light brown skin. Smiling in the picture.

“A demolition expert. It…may not be fitting for the mission that you’ll be sending her to.” Alana looked at Laswell on her screen. “But I know that she can do it.”

Then Rangi leaned down as he smiled at the camera. “They called her blast by the way.”

Laswell thought about it. “Huh. A codename that matches her occupation. Very creative.”

“You can say that my brother has his unique creativity of calling his team.” Rangi said as he chuckled.

Alana smiles a little while looking at him before starting to send another file into Laswell’s laptop. “Before I explained further about our next soldier. Is there anyone else going with yours?”

“Yes. Her name is Alyssa Martinez. Aly is what they call her.” Laswell explained before seeing the file that Alana had sent.

“Alright then. So you don’t mind having a combat medic on their side, right?”

Laswell raised an eyebrow at that question. “A…combat medic?”

“Trust us, Laswell. She may be a medic that deals with injuries but she can fight.” Rangi reassures her.

“I trained her. So she’ll be able to defend the two of your officers and take care of their injuries.” Alana said while seeing Laswell was looking through the info on the screen.

Seeing a woman with brown hair and red highlight color. Laswell saw that she almost looked like Alana. She was silenced for a bit before looking at the General. “General, is this-” “My daughter. Dr. Aelan Kalani. She’ll be going with them. I’ve already sent out an email to her. She’ll respond and will go.”

Laswell started to feel a light weight has been lifted off from her chest. “Ok. I’ll take them. And I’ll explain to them about the situation.” She smiled at them. “Thank you, Alana. I promise this will be the LAST.”

“BETTER be. Now, I’ll let you do the rest. And they better be back in ONE piece. Good luck to you, Laswell.” She hung up on the call.

Laswell sighed with relief. “Thank you, Rangi…” She whispers before closing her laptop and standing up. She walked away while dialing the numbers on her phone.

“Kate?”

“Alex. Aly will be with you in a few hours. We’re also sending ONE more with you as well. A combat medic. Her name is Dr. Aelan Kalani. She’ll be assisting you.”

“A combat medic?” Alex said with a confusing tone.

“I know but trust me. She’s perfect for the mission to assist you and Aly. Alright?”

“...whatever you say, Kate. I’ll accept it. Talk to you later.”

“Talk to you later too.” Then Laswell hung up as she took a deep breath while stepping out of the tent. She looked around to see other marines soldiers were running by or walking by. Doing their patrols.

She looked up at the sky and took a deep breath again to calm her anxious nerves. “I hope this mission will go well…”

Will it?

—----------------------------------

Kahaluu, HawaiiMarine Corps Base

Alana and Rangi were walking through the hallways.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this, Colonel.” The General said with a disappointing tone.

“I…know, ma’am. But Laswell sounded like she REALLY needed our help. And-”

“ENOUGH.” Alana stopped him as she put herself into a halt. Before turning around while glaring at him. “You KNOW the consequences of losing those soldiers outside of our field, Colonel. The PACIFIC field.”

“Yes…I know. But I trust my brother and his team. They’ve been running around, saving lives for how long? Don’t you think that this is an opportunity for them to EXPAND their skills and abilities?” Rangi said as he looked at the General.

“Expanding their DEATH? That’s reassuring.” Alana crossed her arms as she took a step forward to Rangi. “Rangi…I appreciate your enthusiasm for your brother and his team. But I can’t risk it JUST yet. You know how bad the outside world is. YOU’VE seen it, haven’t you?”

Rangi sighed as he remembered about his experienced from few years ago. “Yes, General. But I FOUGHT to survive. Alongside Hōne. HE knows the consequences. And he KNOWS what choices to make. Even though Laswell has been telling him to NOT do it. He still goes for it. To let ME and our MEN escape.”

Alana was silenced when Rangi continued talking.

“You were blaming yourself because of his death and then you blaming KATE for his death. That is NOT the way to honor MY older brother’s death wishes.” Rangi sighed as he stood up straight while looking at his General. “With all due respect ma’am. Your way of GUILT is selfish. I’ve known that. Because I have felt that way ever since I told Kanoa to give that news to our PARENT, to our FAMILY, to our little SISTER.”

Alana kept looking at her Colonel seeing he’s trying to hold back his emotions. “But I didn’t bother to go. Because of my GUILT. The guilt that keeps me from seeing my family. Afraid of what they’ll say to me.”

“Colonel-”

“I’m not finished.” Rangi said as he looked at his General. “General Kalani. Ma’am. I’ve been working with you for a LONG time. And so have my brother and his team. I’ve SEEN how much you’ve changed. In a GOOD way.”

Then he raised one finger up. “BUT. The only thing that you HAVEN’T changed is how you interact with an old alliance or…friend. That causes his death”

Alana has no words. It feels like Rangi had read her so well. Of how she acts, of how she feels and of how she interacts with others.

“Kalani…please. You know what Hōne might say about this. Fesoasoani i taimi uma ia i latou e le tagolima, tusa lava po o le a le leaga o lo latou faamoemoe.”

Alana just stared at Rangi for a few seconds before taking a deep breath. Before she softly spoke, “Always help those in need, no matter how bad their intention gets.” She looked at her Colonel as she smiled softly. “You sure do have his wisdom, Rangi.”

“I learned from the best.” He said as he gave her a soft smile back. “So, are you gonna give them a call or what?”

The General chuckled as she turned around and continued to walk. “I’ll call Blast to go to London. ASAP. Just check my email to see if my daughter responded and explained EVERYTHING to her.”

“Ioe, tina.” Rangi responds before going in the opposite direction. To be Continued…

Chapter Two ->

----------------------------

Words: 2445

Characters:

Alyssa "Aly" Martinez (later be Price) - @alypink

General Alana Kalani -> Me

Agnes "Blast" Falagi -> Me

Dr. Aelan Kalani -> Me Rangi Toa -> Me (But it wasn't written) To my MUTUALS! Let me know if you want to be tagged to see the next CHAPTER! I'll be tagging these guys who I asked for their OCs! @revnah1406 @kaitaiga @deeptrashwitch @caelums-fate @welldonekhushi and

@caelums-fate

Hope you guys like this one! Thank you for reading!

[nkjemisin]

I’ll miss you Twitter

Wow. OK, at this point my bet’s on the lettuce.

It’s pretty clear now that Twitter is not long for this world. Testament to staff that the site has held up this long with so many critical personnel gone and functions failing... but everything that has a beginning has an end. I wish All The Twitter Staff who’ve jumped ship a very Quick Job Hunt, and I especially hope all the H1B visa holders who are stuck at Twitter find some kind of escape raft before the ship goes down completely. (Remember that I used to be a career counselor to students and alumni in STEM fields, back in my old day job. I know some of those people. Worried for them.)

Gotta admit, I am enjoying the schadenfreude of watching Elon show his entire ass to the world... but overall Twitter’s demise is bad news. With so much of our (US) mainstream media now taken over by right-wing ideologues, getting accurate information and takes from marginalized groups on societal events is going to get a lot harder. Twitter’s failure is also going to make life harder for every artist you know. I’ll probably be okay at this point in my career, though I guess we’ll just have to wait and see on that. (I’m doing good, y’all, but I think the only authors who don’t need to do any self-marketing are maybe J. K. Rowling, Neil Gaiman, and Stephen King. For the rest of us, the hustle is eternal.) But artists who aren’t as established, academics, and activists are just some of the groups who are going to struggle without that hellsite. Please be sure to seek out your favorite authors, musicians, mutual aid orgs, etc., find out where they’ll be going forward, and support them as best you can. 

Anyway. It turned into a toxic mess near the end, but I remember the awe I felt watching the Arab Spring happen on there. I made some friends for life there. Black Twitter! Informative threads about so many topics! Research for some of my books! Hell, I pretty much built my whole professional career there; transitioned there from LJ around the time my first book came out. I’ve gotten career opportunities I never would’ve had there, and made contacts with people I never would’ve dreamed of getting to know. There were so many good moments. But all these moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Until the next thing comes along... but that doesn’t mean the loss doesn’t hurt.