#is it really a cliffhanger if you know whats going to happen in the next chapter?

[separatist-apologist]

Lying In Between The Memories

You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me

Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.

The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.

Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.

Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter

[ongoing TW for Sexual Assault]

The tension in the room was so thick, Gwyn could have cut it with a knife. Azriel looked wild and somehow pained, his expressions shifting second to second along with what must have been his chaotic thoughts. She exhaled a breath and pressed a hand to his chest, which seemed to strengthen some unknowable resolve.

“Everything will be fine,” she began, wondering if she was reassuring him or herself. “We’ll talk to Eris—”

“Let me take you home,” Azriel interrupted. Gwyn nearly screamed out loud. Of course that was his solution. Of course he’d think she should go back to Prythian, leaving him to deal with whatever the Vanserras wanted while she sat in a library.

“Are you serious right now?” she asked, taking a step away from him. Crossing his arms over his chest, it was clear that yes, Azriel was very serious. 

“The Vanserras are dangerous,” Azriel said, his voice pitched lower than was typical. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“Oh, but you do? I’m dangerous, Az, and I can handle myself just fine. If you want to go home so badly, be my guest. I won’t stop you. But I’m staying.”

“Gwyn—”

“No. No. I can’t…I won’t do this with you, Azriel. Either you mean it when you say you care about me—that you trust me, or you don’t. Decide. Right now. Either we’re equals or we’re not and I just want to know where I stand with you.”

This was it and Gwyn knew it. Whatever Azriel said would determine how they moved forward—if they moved forward at all. After everything that had happened between them, it seemed almost cruel to provide him with an ultimatum, but Gwyn wasn’t going back. She wasn’t going to hide in the library, lost in her regrets and wishing things could be different. They were different. 

She was different. 

There was no point following through on the promises she’d just been willing to make if Azriel was never going to make good on his. Why train her, why teach her to use weapons or how to take the likes of him down if every time there was danger, Azriel was going to swoop in and hide her away?

What was his problem? 

There clearly was one, because the only reasonable answer was to immediately assure her that he trusted her. Not war with himself between what he actually wanted—she assumed that was her returning to Velaris—and knowing that if he took her back, she’d never see him again. Gwyn’s heart thudded in her throat against the long stretch of silence.

“I—” His throat bobbed, working against whatever emotion he was swallowing. “I’m sorry—I…I’m scared.”

The admission hung between them. Azriel was so many things to Gwyn and frightened was never one of them. Azriel wasn’t afraid of anything, including death. How many stories had she heard of him running head long into battle, damning the consequences? What could he possibly be afraid of when surely Eris Vanserra was no threat to the likes of him?

“Eris is all talk,” she dismissed, sliding around him in an effort to clear her senses. She could still feel his rigid cock held in her hand and if she wasn’t careful, she’d make Eris wait on them.

Presumably, for hours. 

It was a good plan—one she would have succeeded in, had Azriel not followed just behind her. Dragging a hand through his hair with frustration, Azriel growled, “He has plenty of bite—don’t let his pretty face fool you.”

“Oh, is it pretty? I hadn’t noticed,” she said with too much innuendo. She hadn’t meant to be so suggestive, though she also didn’t mind that soft growl that slipped from Azriel’s throat. He’d always been a little territorial—obnoxiously so, if she was being honest—but now? This was why she hadn’t wanted to sleep with him. He was going to take things too far. 

That should have bothered her, but right then, Gwyn wanted Azriel to take things too far. It was the worst possible time, in the worst possible place, and she couldn’t really focus on the threat of the Vanserra’s because Azriel was staring down at her with eyes so dark there might have been no color to them at all. Just endless pools of starless night threatening to devour her. 

Azriel cocked his head to the side, all animal, and Gwyn knew right then, that he could scent what she wasn’t trying to conceal. He didn’t seem to breathe as she dared to come closer, pressing her hand to his still chest. 

“I don’t care about Eris Vanserra,” she murmured, peering up at him through dark lashes. “Lock the door. He can wait.”

“Gwyn,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

She didn’t think she could take it if he told her no. Her pride certainly could not withstand that level of rejection no matter how valid it was. Gwyn was tempted to say something to him that might change his mind, but right then she felt nervous. Too vulnerable for speech, too embarrassed to do anything but remain rooted in place as the realization of what she’d said swept over her.

Oh. Oh no. 

She was becoming the thing she’d sworn she wouldn’t be. Resolve slammed into her, stealing her spine as the memory of all those months training washed back over her. The recognition that this, right here, was why she had to quit training with him. Why she needed to step away before he did any more irreversible damage to herself. 

Oblivious to her racing thoughts, perhaps to her detriment, Azriel grabbed her upper arm the moment she started to step back and without a word, pressed his mouth to her own. She’d expected hunger and heat—not desperation to greet her. His other arm wound around her waist, holding her so tightly there was nowhere to go. That was by design, though Gwyn had nowhere she wanted to go.

There were a million things to be afraid of, but this right here—and the way she felt about him? That was, perhaps, the most terrifying thing. Instinct warred between walking away from him again and staying where she was, letting go and giving in, pulling and pushing until Gwyn was muddled and confused.

And yet there was clarity in that kiss. Reason, among the madness, was found in his lips. She didn’t realize they were moving, that she was taking steps toward something until Azriel was pulling her into his lap, himself seated on that sofa. 

“If I start,” he breathed, trailing his mouth over her jaw and down her neck, “I won’t be able to stop.” Something twanged within her—something old, something primal. “Good,” she replied, raking her fingers through his dark hair. 

“You deserve better than this,” he said, scarred hands coming to cup her face so she had to look at him. “Better than a rushed coupling so I can race off to deal with Eris. Wait for me. For tonight,” he added, a plea to his words. 

Wrapping her fingers around his wrists, Gwyn met that hungry, desperate gaze. “Together?”

“We’ll do everything together,” he swore softly, a lethal menace to those words. “Let someone try and stop us.”

Gwyn kissed him again, unable to deny what she felt or what was happening between them. Love. 

This was love. 

Somewhere between swearing she’d never train with him again and looking into those hazel eyes swearing he’d do everything with her if she wanted. Goosebumps erupted over her arms, drawing ice through her fingers. She was excited and she was scared all at once. Dread and elation pooled in her gut though Gwyn did a good job of concealing both. Azriel didn’t seem alarmed by what he saw, at any rate. 

“Can you stand?” she asked when Azriel shifted his hips, revealing the hard cock just beneath.

Closing his eyes, head tipped back, he breathed, “Give me a moment. If I think about Vanserra long enough, it’ll pass.”

Gwyn tried to slide off his lap, and was too delighted when he tightened his grip, holding her tight. “You hate him so much. Why?”

Azriel looked up at the ceiling. “He’s a bastard.”

“That’s not a real reason. Tell me.”

“When I was young—in my twenties—Eris was engaged to Mor.”

The words hung between them for a moment, weighty as Azriel considered what he wanted to say. This was ancient, then. Old, unfinished business between them that Azriel had never forgotten. 

He didn’t look at her as he added, “I was in love with her.”

Oh. 

Gwyn could see Mor so clearly in her mind right then. Beautiful in such an easy, effortless way. All that golden hair, her beautiful eyes…and the way she’d been looking at Emerie, she reminded herself before jealousy could fully take root. It was impossible, though, not to compare herself to Mor. Not to imagine Azriel with his fingers curled around Mor’s waist, his lips against her neck—

“Mor was never interested in me,” Azriel continued, blazing through this confession like he needed to say it. “But I thought, back then at least…maybe…it didn’t matter. She was engaged to Eris and Rhys could do nothing about it. Wouldn’t do anything about it,” Azriel added, as if that were important to the story or to him. Gwyn certainly wasn’t going to wade into that old fight, though she saw there were leftover scars that had healed poorly. 

“Mor took things into her own hands—she came to our camp in Illyria and she slept with Cassian. Virginity…it’s…it’s important in the Autumn Court. It’s an old custom for females of nobility and a point of pride for males. Mor decided if no one would help her, she would do what we’d always done—she’d help herself.”

“You slept with her?” Gwyn questioned, her blood turning to ice. She didn’t think she could stand knowing that Azriel had both loved her and slept with her, unfair as it was. This was centuries old, a drama older than her, than her parents, and likely her grandparents. 

Azriel shook his head. “No. I told you…she never wanted me. She went to Cassian. Everyone knew. It was an open secret in the camp, and secrets like that are hard to keep. There was no love lost between the three of us and the rest of the Illyrian’s, who already felt we were given special treatment because we were so close to the High Lord. Someone told Keir—but rumor had already begun to spread around Hewn City and Beron knew before Keir could control the situation.”

Azriel took a breath as if he needed to control himself. Gwyn swore she could feel his rage somehow, though maybe it was just her own anger as she imagined what it must have been like for Mor back then. Sold, by her own parents, like she was mere cattle for breeding. Knowing that she had no good options and still trying to do something that gave her agency. 

“Keir nailed a note to Mor’s womb and dumped her into Autumn letting them know she was their problem now,” Azriel whispered, his voice lethal. Whatever Gwyn had been imagining paled in comparison to the reality. 

“Eris could have helped her. He found her before me—we weren’t allowed to step foot into Autumn so we had to wait. Cassian, Rhys and I…we were patrolling sections of the border between Autumn, Summer, Spring, and Winter. Flying overhead, trying to find her, we—we were going to get her even if it started a war. But it was Eris who found her first. Who saw how injured she was, who could have helped. He left her there, where I found her hours later and…” 

Azriel fell silent, eyes glazed as he relived that moment. As he considered what it still meant to him and the hatred he’d never be able to let go of. 

“He’ll say he couldn’t intervene. That it was better, politically, to look the other way while I stalked across that border and brought her into Summer. But the truth is Eris is a coward, too scared to do anything that might endanger him, first. He’d let his brothers die, he’d let his mother suffer, and he’d see the rest of the world burn to keep himself safe first and I hate him for it.”

There was nothing else to say. Even if Gwyn did have a defense for Eris—and she didn’t—she wouldn’t have offered it up to Azriel. There were other questions she had, questions that felt too embarrassing to ask.

Are you still in love with Mor? 

She swallowed that one, terrified he’d say yes. What had happened, in the aftermath? She’d never wanted him, so maybe nothing at all…but had something? And did he know they’d had a whole dinner in Velaris right before Gwyn left specifically trying to catch Mor’s attention because Emerie thought she was beautiful? 

Questions better left for another time.

“So how do we play this?” she asked instead, because she wanted to be a team more than she wanted to plumb the depths of his life before her. Gwyn simply had to trust that, at least here and now, she was the only female Azriel cared about. That whatever feelings he had for Mor had fizzled over the years until only friendship remained. Perhaps when Eris was gone, and they were back in Velaris.

Or maybe Gwyn would tell Nesta all this and they could compare notes. Did she know Cassian had slept with Mor? Did she even care? Gwyn couldn’t imagine Nesta being cool about it, but what did she truly know? Nesta and Cassian were mates and that changed things.

“Carefully,” Azriel said after a moment, his expression wiped clean of its former fury. “Eris’s weapons are his words. Give him nothing to work with, let him back himself into a corner. And we can’t kill him.”

“Are you saying that to me or yourself?”

“Is there a difference?” he murmured without any awareness of what he was implying. “Knives stay under the skirts.”

“I’m tired of dresses,” Gwyn mumbled, swinging her legs off him to stand. 

“I’ll have you out of them soon enough.”

He couldn’t see the grin that spread over her face, though he likely knew the heat spreading through her. Gwyn merely waved her hand.

“Big words, Shadowsinger.”

AZRIEL:

Unlike Eris, Azriel didn’t need a mask for his boredom. He was bored—irritated, even, made worse by Gwyn sitting close enough his knee was touching hers. Fully clothed when her perfect hand had been wrapped around his cock and she’d been all but begging him to take her. Gods, Azriel couldn’t focus on a smug word leaving Eris’s mouth. And Eris knew it. Knew what Gwyn hadn’t yet figured out, putting a countdown on a conversation Azriel wasn’t sure how to have. He’d just gotten her to open up to him and Eris was going to wreck it all before Azriel built the sort of intimacy he was certain he needed.

All he knew for certain was the information had to come from him rather than Eris Vanserra. Gwyn, lovely, perfect Gwyn, was doing the hard work of making small talk with Eris. She’d put on her most charming demeanor and Azriel wondered if she wasn’t playing dumb on purpose. Eris, on the other hand, had a gleam in his eye reminiscent of a wolf unaware his sheep was really a dragon in disguise. 

“I’ve never been to Autumn,” Gwyn was saying, tucking a long piece of that cinnamon colored hair behind an arched ear.

Azriel was in love with her and gods, but he wanted to tell her so badly it made his teeth ache. She played Eris so well—hadn’t the first born son been told Gwyn was a scholar from the Night Court? And wouldn’t he assume she was smarter than the average High Fae? But Eris was buying her bright eyed, too-idealistic act which left Azriel left to play the brooding bodyguard. That was a role he knew all too well, at least. And Eris had the decency to keep his eyes fully on Gwyn’s beautiful face rather than let it drift.

Azriel might have abandoned his no violence policy had Eris not managed this. He had one hand clenched beneath the table, nails digging into his palm to keep himself from squeezing the life from Eris’s smug, imperious eyes.

As Eris described Autumn to an enraptured Gwyn, Azriel’s thoughts once again drifted to his mate. He needed to tell her. It was a last ditch attempt, sleeping with her and hoping it snapped for her then. Azriel knew that had worked for Cassian in theory. Nesta had felt it…and chose not to acknowledge it.

He might go insane if that happened to him and Gwyn. So focused on his inner thoughts, Azriel nearly missed Gwyn’s sweet, “Is the High Lord joining us?”

“He’s around,” Eris replied with a bored wave of his hand. “I’m certain he’s looking for Helion—”

“Helion?” Azriel interrupted. Helion arriving had Rhys written all over it. Eris’s eyes shifted, that smile sharpening at the corners. Fuck. Azriel hadn’t meant to say anything at all. 

“Did your High Lord not inform you? Fascinating given how long you’ve been here…”

Azriel didn’t respond, leaving Gwyn to scramble. Without missing a beat, she threw that sunny smile on her face and said, “We’re only here for the library. I can’t remember the last time the prince stopped by to say hello. I’m sure he’s too busy for us.”

Eris glanced up at Azriel, two lines of concern creasing between his brow. “You haven’t seen him?”

“In at least a week,” Gwyn replied without betraying her real question. “Perhaps we will now that more emissaries from Prythian are visiting.”

“I was under the impression–” Eris stopped himself before he could finish that thought. Gwyn glanced “Well. I suppose we’ll all learn together, won’t we?”

Gwyn’s smile never wavered. “It’ll be nice to get to know all the new courts. We could keep in touch.”

Eris was clearly lost in his own thoughts, eyes drifting across the room. Azriel turned his head to look, curious what had drawn Eris’s attention from the cat and mouse game happening at their current table. Helion had sauntered in, every inch the Day Court High Lord in his white draped robe and the gold jewelry adorning his gleaming bronze skin. Something about him was striking right then—an expression Azriel had seen once before, though he couldn’t remember when.

Eris’s upper lip had curled with distaste, his dislike plain against his features. Flanked on either side of the High Lord were two others—a rather beautiful blonde with a book tucked beneath her arm and a male with the same onyx colored hair as the High Lord. Both wore azure clothes, their eyes lined with kohl.

The trio didn’t spare Night and Autumn a second look, making their way toward the high table. Eris didn’t take his eyes off them until they were fully behind them, though his expression was inscrutable. Still, it was something. It shouldn’t have surprised Azriel that Eris didn’t like any of the other courts, nor was it really worth following up on, and yet he would have been a poor spymaster if he didn’t order his shadows after both Helion and Eris.

After all, Eris and Helion would likely be trying to spy on him, too. The High Lords loved their secrets almost as much as they loved their games. Whatever was going on between Autumn and Day was for them—not Night. Azriel and Gwyn were nearly done, besides. She merely needed to finish her cypher for the two to return with her stolen book on Koschei. They didn’t need anything else—not really. Though, it occurred to him right then that his shadow had never returned from Koschei’s lake. 

Strange.

He’d need to follow up on that. 

Azriel was distracted and couldn’t even pretend he didn’t know why. If he’d come alone he’d be on top of all of this and right then, Azriel wondered if Rhys hadn’t suspected. Of all the people…of everyone who could have come, Rhys had insisted it be Gwyn. Untested. Unknown. Azriel’s mate. Had his brother suspected? 

No.

No, Rhys would have warned him surely. Or, at the very least, put them in a better environment. Though…Azriel remembered all the shenanigans Rhys had gotten up to with Feyre around and oblivious. Maybe not. Azriel was spinning himself in circles, unable to focus and he knew he wouldn’t until Gwyn knew, too.

At least then he could free himself of the indecision. Get back to working—throw himself into it, even, if need be. He’d always been good at distracting himself, and this would be no exception. He had centuries of practice with Mor, though Azriel suspected this would be infinitely more painful.

Pain was home, though. He lived there, loved there—worshiped at its altar. 

Glancing at Eris, Azriel wondered if the prince of Autumn didn’t understand that, in some strange way. He almost felt pity, catching a familiar look of yearning streak across Eris’s features—gone so quickly Azriel could have lied to himself and said he imagined it. 

“Did you want something, Eris?” Azriel demanded, ignoring the cooling food on his plate.

Eris offered a fox’s smile. “Only the pleasure of your stimulating company.”

Gwyn never broke character, which was more than Azriel could boast. She merely continued eating, pretending this was a normal conversation between normal people. Friends, even. Eris stood, though, catching the eye of his father striding into the room with the king.

“Bye!” she called after Eris’s retreating back before adding, “Prick,” under her breath.

“You were charming,” Azriel said from the side of his mouth, noting how neither father or son deigned to look in his direction. Why would they? He was merely a bastard born Illyrian, after all. Trash, as far as they were concerned. 

“Isn’t that why I’m here? To smooth out your edges?” she teased and gods, he wanted her so badly it was making a fool of him.

“More than you know,” he replied, pulling his wings tighter against his body to keep them from flaring outward. Not that anyone would understand what that meant, and still it was probably better not to have a preening, territorial Illyrian stomping about the dining hall.

He needed to get them both out which was harder than he thought it would be given Gwyn was fixated on the missing prince. “Where is Kai, do you think?” she asked when Azriel stood, unconcerned himself. Who cared? Kai’s absence was the only good thing that had happened lately, utterly eradicating any competition to Gwyn Azriel might have had.

After all, he wasn’t convinced he could compete with a prince. 

She would have realized, had Kai stuck around, the choices being offered. Would have realized she could live easier with Kai than she ever could in Velaris, no matter how much she loved it. And Azriel had nearly convinced himself that she would have chosen Kai—because why would anyone choose him when there was another option readily available—until Gwyn murmured, “I miss Nesta and Emerie.”

Walking down the hall with her, Azriel glanced down at Gwyn, his expression inviting her to continue. 

“It’s just…I would have told them about Eris, and we would have laughed about how pathetic he is. And I’ll bet Nesta knows something about that courtier from Day he was staring at—”

“What courtier?” Azriel demanded, his shadows swirling around his shoulders.

“The blonde. You didn’t see? He had tragedy written all over him when she came in.”

He didn’t need to tell the shadow slinking away what to do. If Gwyn thought she saw something—however absurd it felt—then Azriel would follow up on it. 

“We’ll be home soon enough,” Azriel said, pulling their shared door open so she could sweep in, still a princess, even if all she had was him. “You can tell Nesta and Emerie everything then.”

“Everything?” Gwyn challenged, crossing her arms over her chest to stare him down. 

“Most things,” Azriel amended. “Nesta tells Cassian too much and I don’t need him knowing what I do when he’s not around.”

“Why would he care?” Gwyn pressed, but Azriel didn’t want to talk about Cassian for another moment. Didn’t want to think about Cassian. This was as good of a moment as he was going to get, he reasoned. There would never be any time better, at least while they were in this palace. 

Azriel didn’t answer, unwilling to admit Cassian would find it all absurdly funny much in the same way he and Rhys had a good laugh over Cassian’s trouble with Nesta, and how Cassian and Azriel had been so amused by how oblivious Feyre had been to Rhys’s obvious affection.

They weren’t blood brothers.

But stupidity ran between them like a cord, strong as any mating bond. Reaching for her face, Azriel kissed her before she could say another word, hoping to pick up where they’d left off just before Eris had so rudely interrupted them.

He hadn’t forgotten the pleasure of her soft hand gripping his aching cock, nor could he erase the look in her eyes from his memory. That sultry look was enough to drive him to his knees, to make him beg, crawl, plead. He’d do anything she demanded and more simply because it was her lips speaking the words. 

She didn’t protest, melting against the leather of his armor he was now desperate to get rid himself of. Instead, Gwyn kissed him back, hoisting herself up on tiptoes until Azriel said fuck it and lifted her into the air, if only for an excuse to put his hands on her ass. 

He was brainless by the time he managed to walk them into his bed chamber, made weak by her tongue stroking his own and her fingers in his hair. Had he ever been so aroused? So desperate? So excited? Azriel racked his brain for an answer but none came. There was only those teal eyes, that freckled skin.

“Is this happening?” she asked him, her breath warm against his cheek.

“If you want me, I’m yours,” he replied, saying the only words that came to him. 

Stroking his cheek, Gwyn looked down at him, her hair forming a curtain around them. “I want you. You’re mine.”

A groan slipped from behind his lips, their gazes locked. 

They were doing this.

“I’m yours,” he repeated.

I’m yours. 

#gwynriel #is it really a cliffhanger if you know whats going to happen in the next chapter? #i just cant write gwyns first real time from azriels pov

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Fandom things I'm looking forward to:

Kingdom Hearts IV and Missing Link

Final Fantasy VII Rebirth

Final Fantasy IX Remake

Final Fantasy Tactics Remaster or Remake (whichever it is. I've heard both things)

The fourth Madoka Magica movie, whenever that comes out (seriously. Where is it? First it was announced as the Concept movie. Then it was re-announced years later with a new name, and it's still missing)

The Percy Jackson TV show

The Infernal Devices TV show

Maybe the Twilight TV show. Maybe.

The animated Smallville continuation that Tom Welling and Michael Rosenbaum are working on, whenever it comes out

I was going to put Baron and Toluca on this list (that's, like, a spiritual successor to the OG "Roswell" TV show. Majandra Delfino who played Maria in the show wrote the script, and she and Brendan Fehr who played Michael star in it. They're also planning for more Roswell cameos in later episodes), but it came out and I didn't even know it? But I have no idea how to watch it, though, as I guess it only came out in theaters in Albuquerque. Here's hoping it comes out on DVD or something...

The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes

The alleged Firefly reboot

The new Daredevil show

The Batman Part II

The next part in Tom Holland's Spider-Man movies

The DCU, starting with Superman Legacy in 2025

The Five Nights at Freddy's movie and Help Wanted 2

The Iron Lung movie

The TV show that it sounds like Markiplier will be working on after he's done with the Iron Lung movie

The next Bendy and the Ink Machine thing being worked on

MAYBE the Hello Neighbor sequel. I know. I KNOW! (It's really only because the second game had to end on a cliffhanger.)

Five Nights at Candy's 4

Frozen III

Disney's "Wish"

The next and final season of the Clear Card arc of Cardcaptor Sakura

The new Avatar series (the one about the third Avatar in the cycle: the Earth bender)

The live-action Avatar: The Last Airbender series, perhaps

The Chosen season 4

#As for things that haven't been announced #Ffxvi when that of course happens #The ffx remake if that rumor is true #I'm still hoping we'll get one more season of full metal panic to finish off the show. Please don't end things on a cliffhanger! #And no matter what I'll forever and always be pulling for a twewy3. Please give it to us Square. Pretty Please? With sugar on top? #I also still (mostly? Kind of?) wish we had a new Buffy show to look forward to. but alas. maybe someday #also after khiv nomura's all but confirmed that next is a verum Rex. And I'm. Like. Already pre-excited for that if that makes sense. Lol #And I don't know how to feel about the new death note movie adaptation I want to have faith in the Russo brothers but mostly I'm afraid #And I just- I LOVE death note. You all KNOW I love death note. But I just don't know what can be done with the story that hasn't already #been done #Unless you just completely change it and then piss off all of us fans. Again #I said it once and I'll say it again: i wish they were making a code grass movie instead (which has the beats they're looking to adapt in #death note. but other stuff too. and has never gotten a live-action adaptation so at least if nothing else it would be original) #there's also a part of me that wants to get caught up on winx club and see if this new season (that's maybe a soft reboot? but don't quote #me on that) will be better than some of the last ones and start getting the series in the direction in needs to be going again. hopefully #and isn't there some new pokémon season coming out where brock and misty reunite with ash (i read an article about it) which confuses me #because i thought the show ended? #unless the article was just talking about an english dub of the season that already aired in japan or something like that #i also should really get caught up on all of the sailor moon crystal stuff. shame on me for not being so! #somewhat. kind of. the next garten of banban game. God help me #kindergarten 3 if there ever is one #slayers: a buffyverse story would have been on here if they hadn't announced it after i made this list and if i'd remembered to come back #and add it. but i listened to it and loved it:)

[yume-fanfare]

something about how there's like two actual double pages in the entirety of the jshk manga and one of them was for mitsuba's transformation in the hell of mirrors arc

#and it's deserved! it's something that completely changed the story for kou! #the other one is hananene's big moment in the picture perfect arc #(and there is also an almost double page of a Huge black and white radish yashiro earlier in the hell of mirrors arc too lol) #it is impactful as well but it makes me wonder if they were tight on time those months lol #bc really it was a lot of merit that such a long and beautifully drawn manga has so few double pages because that means drawing More #also im going to kinda spoil some parts of the arc in the next tags so don't read them if u don't want spoilers for that alksjdmlkjdm #like its kinda vague but still spoilery #this september's chapter was wild but the hell of mirrors arc is still the most bloody one i think #everything in it is still so insane to me #especially the face kou makes after seeing that #it's still my most favorite example of panel build up #as in leaving the cliffhanger for the Next page always so it makes you want to turn it #like its so!!! #you get this terrific double page #the first one in the manga so far #a boy‚ disfigured #bloody #kneeling in front of a skeleton #and you‚ the reader‚ know what has happened in the middle‚ between this scene and his last one‚ and you know that it was something horrible #and you had been waiting for this reunion! #you had been waiting for so long‚ even if it had seemed impossible! #and now it seems like it's the worst possible moment #and then when you're about to see kou's reaction‚ his full face‚ you have to turn the page #and when you do‚ he is not horrified or scared or grossed out #he is smiling! #he has the softest smile you've seen on him‚ relieved‚ incredibly happy‚ tearing up #it just gets me every single time! #and it's the first time anyone has looked at mitsuba like that. #every single of their reunions has made my breath stop i really can't wait for the next one #its such a powerful scene for real

[schrodingerscougar]

Part two for this one. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger in the first part. The illustration is from the amazing @ave661 .

--

Four months. That’s how much time it took Simon to get out of that hazy fugue state. He didn’t really remember what he had gone through during that time, his brain switched to autopilot after the breakup. He often wondered why it affected him this much when he didn’t even love you. You were just someone he spent time with, someone he tried to play house with for a short while to feel normal.

Still, now as he lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate to stir up the hot air in the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He even found himself opening a social media app to search for your name from a fake account he had set up a long time ago, and he was shocked to see the most recent photo of you. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable shape of a baby bump under your shirt, and based on its size, you got pregnant long months ago.

When he was finally allowed to go home for a short while, Simon went to see you. He knew he had hurt you, he knew you were probably still mad at him, but he had to know if it was his child. It only happened one time. One night when he tried to fix things by giving you what you wanted, hoping sex could make him see you in another light. Maybe he would finally want you the way you always wanted him to want you. But it didn’t work, and it was after that night he made the final decision to end things with you.

“What do you want?” you asked him when you opened the door.

Simon nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. This cold welcome was fair enough, he deserved this kind of treatment. Normally, he would have left you alone. But normally, you would have told him you were pregnant.

So he silently pointed at your belly and waited for you to realize what he wanted. He knew you weren't dumb, the pieces would fall into place in a second. And sure enough, you let out a sigh then opened the door wider to let him in.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked you as he stood in the kitchen next to you with his arms crossed.

You were busy making him a cup of tea, but you took the time to silently shrug. When he let out a heavy sigh, you looked over at him and said, “I didn't think you'd care, Si. Simple as that.”

You were right. He didn't care. Even now that he was looking at you, his eyes occasionally moving to the bump that hid his own blood, his mind was somewhere else. He was a soldier, he knew how to take responsibility for his actions. You getting pregnant was his fault too. He couldn't just ignore the problem.

“I’ll pay child support,” he assured you.

“No need.”

Simon reached out to put a hand on the base of your neck, but you quickly pushed his hand away before he could touch your skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

You inhaled through your nose and held your breath in for a few seconds before finally exhaling. “So what? You’re gonna be around and help us? Take her to a doctor’s appointment or for a stroll around the block?” When you saw him looking down at his shoes, you couldn’t help but snort. “Thought so,” you said.

“I’ll better get going. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Months flew by, but Simon barely noticed. He was on a mission again far from home, risking his life as usual. You never called and he didn’t force it. He accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of making this happen. Since you didn’t want to accept child support, he opened a bank account where he stored that money, hoping that one day he could give it to you or his daughter when she became old enough.

One day he checked your social media accounts like he had done a few times before, just to see how you were. This is when he saw the post in which you announced the arrival of your baby girl. He didn’t make a big deal out of it at first. She was born and she would probably ask about her father one day. If he was still alive then, he would gladly give her a toned down explanation. If not… Well, he left everything to her in his will.

Eventually he began to save the photos of his daughter and he often found himself looking at them. She was adorable, some of her features resembling his own. Her big brown eyes were definitely his; the color and the shape were both so familiar to him.

No one from the team knew about this part of his life. He had never told anyone, because why would he? They were close, they were his brothers, but you and your daughter were carefully guarded secrets in his life. Simon knew the real reason why he never talked about you; he was afraid of the judgmental looks and words.

Two months later, when he entered his apartment again after another round of deployment, Simon didn't really know what to do with himself. He ended up looking at his daughter's photos more and more often and eventually he made up his mind to give her a visit. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. He was doing this for the little girl.

You weren't welcoming but, once again, he couldn't blame you. “I just want to see my daughter,” he said softly, hoping the two of you could avoid fighting.

For long moments you were cautiously watching him, as if you were trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. But then your eyes fell on the big teddy bear he was holding with one hand and you let out a sigh of defeat.

On the way to the nursery, you didn't talk at all. The silence didn't bother him, but still he would have appreciated some words about the little girl he was about to meet. Was he allowed to pick her up? Did she like to be held? How was she? Did she have stomach ache often? Were she teething?

“Be quick,” you warned him when you stopped by her crib.

Simon let out a sigh. “Come on, don't be like that.”

You just rolled your eyes at him before taking a step back to lean your shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded over your chest, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He found it a little too much, he hated that you didn't trust him. Sure, he hadn't given you many reasons to trust him, but for the sake of your daughter you should have tried.

With a sigh, he rested an elbow on the side of the crib and reached out to touch the baby as gently as he could with his other hand. His own flesh and blood. It was amazing, really. Without asking for permission, he picked her up and couldn't help but smile when the baby smiled at him.

Now that he was holding her close to his body, placing soft kisses on her head every so often, Simon couldn't deny that he already loved his daughter. There was an invisible string between them, something that brought her closer to him that anyone has ever been.

The baby giggled suddenly and it brought an even wider smile to Simon’s face. He could only hope you would let him see her as often as he could visit, but something told him it wouldn't be easy to convince you.

“She likes you,” you suddenly noted.

He put down the little girl then turned to you. “The feeling's mutual.” A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Can I see her some other time?” You nodded. “Thank you. If I can help with anything, just give me a call or send a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” he offered.

You been to walk out of the room and he quietly followed you, waiting for you to say something. He didn't really know what he was expecting to hear, but he had a feeling you were holding back something. And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence you began to talk, scolding him for not even bothering to send at least a text to ask about her before suddenly showing up.

“I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd read them.”

“I'm mad at you, that's true,” you agreed.

Simon leaned against the doorframe as he watched you pace in the living room like a caged animal. He remembered those nights he had spent thinking about on deployment, the moment he saw that photo of you, and he realized that maybe he was missing you.

But how could he miss someone he didn't even love? Or had he developed feelings for you, feelings he tried to hide even from himself? It was way too confusing for him, and he didn't like to be confused. It was a weakness on the field and in his civilian life.

“I should go. If you need anything–”

You came to a halt, turned to him and nodded. “I know where to find you. But can I ask you something?” Simon motioned you to go on. “Why now? Why did you become interested in her all of a sudden?”

He let out a thoughtful hum as he put his hand on the back of his neck. “I saw the photos, how much she looks like me, and… I don't know.” You took a few steps closer to him, but you still kept a comfortable distance. “I've been saving money for her. I want to give you access to that bank account.”

“I don't need your money,” you were quick to say.

“It's for her. Please, accept it.”

You became mad at him, accusing him of assuming you couldn't take care of your daughter you'd been raising on your own from day one. He knew there was no point in defending himself, you were too lost in the hate you felt for him. So he just waited there in silence, letting you finish your speech.

Then, the moment you seemingly finished, he closed the gap between the two of you. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed his instinct when he leaned down and kissed you. This was probably the first time he truly enjoyed kissing you, and it helped a lot that you were quick to return it.

Maybe this was why he wanted to come here today. To fix things. To try to get a family he'd been craving ever since he lost his own.

(part three)

#ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #simon riley #mw2 #mw3 #modern warfare #simon riley x reader

[hoe-for-hopper]

A Crush On Eddie

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part 2 is HERE

WARNINGS: kind of a slow burn, unprotected piv, masturbation (f & m), drinking (reader is drunk, not during sex), vomiting (reader vomits)

Word Count: 4,983 (idk how that happened)

Summary: You've got a crush on Eddie Munson, so you drag your two best friends, Steve and Robin to Corroded Coffin's show. When Steve is too drunk to drive you home, Eddie offers.

A/N: I swear this was supposed to just be a one and done Eddie fic, but oops I got carried away and there's gonna be a part 2 (steddie) sometime in the next few days. Partially unedited, ends on a cliffhanger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SMUT BELOW THE CUT~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You, Steve, and Robin pull up to the shitty little dive bar that Corroded Coffin is playing tonight. You’re nervous, but you’re not sure why. It’s not like Eddie is even going to notice you. You’re just here to enjoy the show and have a fun night out with your best friends. Besides, you haven’t seen Eddie since you were all in high school and you hardly spoke with him then. He probably doesn’t even remember who you are.

Steve has no clue about your little crush on Eddie Munson. He has no idea that he’s the only reason you dragged them to the Corroded Coffin show. Robin, on the other hand, has been forced to listen to your lust filled rants about Eddie on more than one occasion. 

“Alright, I’ll grab the drinks, you guys go find us a good clean spot to watch them.” Steve shook his head as he made his way to the bar at the back of the room. 

You and Robin found a small table against the wall to the side of the stage. As you two placed your purses and jackets down you looked up and saw Eddie walking towards the bar and your heart skips a beat. He was cute, more than cute, really. 

“Oh God. Why don’t you just go talk to him? It’s not like you two don’t already know each other.” Robin is rolling her eyes as she follows your line of sight to Eddie.

“Because. What would I even say? ‘Hi Eddie, remember how we hardly talked during high school and weren’t even friends? Well, I’ve actually got such a huge crush on you that I dragged my two best friends to your show tonight.’ I mean, come on, Robin.” You let out a heavy sigh and sit down on the stool.

Robin finishes draping her jacket over her chair and sits down, “Well, maybe don’t say that. I was more so thinking of something along the lines of ‘hi.’ You know, something normal.” 

“What are we talking about?” Steve says as he sets down the drinks. 

You catch Robin’s eye and give your head a subtle shake. “Oh, we were just saying how I think that girl over there at the bar is so cute. Y/N was saying I should go talk to her, but I’m just way too nervous.” Robin winks at you as Steve cranes his neck trying to see what girl she’s talking about.

“I didn’t see a cute girl at the bar.” Steve says.

“Oh she must have left already. Anyway thanks for the drinks, I think they’re about to start soon.” Robin spins around to face the stage while Steve is still scoping out the venue for girls.

As all three of you sip your beers and continue talking, the lights dim and Eddie walks onto the stage. You’ve got butterflies already. Robin turns back to look at you, she’s got a knowing smirk on her face. You roll your eyes and take another swig of your drink.

After the first few songs, you start to loosen up a little bit. Steve has gotten you your second beer and you’re almost ready for your third. You really weren’t planning to drink a lot tonight, but you have been wanting to talk to Eddie and you figured the alcohol would make it a little easier.

The next time Steve goes to the bar, Robin pulls you towards the front of the stage. “Robin, what are you doing?” 

“Trying to help you get a closer look at your future boyfriend.” Robin is giggling so hard that a few drops of her beer splash over the rim of the bottle. 

“Please.” You’re rolling your eyes again, but you’re definitely enjoying the close up view of Eddie. You rake your eyes over him and you can’t help but linger on the spot right below his belt buckle. 

“I see you guys are getting in on the action!” Steve comes up behind you and hands you and Robin another beer. “I’m gonna go hang at our table. I’m trying to get this girl’s number, told her to meet me over there.” He walks off towards your table.

You turn back around to face the stage, and notice Eddie is looking right at you. Eddie Munson is looking at you. Your breath catches in your throat as he looks away towards the other side of the crowd. 

Robin nudges you and says “Oh my god! He totally just looked right at you!”

You punch her arm and laugh, but a tingly feeling flows throughout your body. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Corroded Coffin’s set, you and Robin head back to your table to find Steve deep in conversation with a girl that Robin apparently knows. 

“Well, I’ve got to run to the bathroom, I’ll be right back you guys.” You head to the bathroom in the back corner of the venue. 

You fix your hair in the mirror before walking back outside. As you make your way back to the table, an arm reaches out in front of you to stop you. 

“Hey, didn’t we go to high school together?” It’s Eddie. He drops his arm and steps in front of you. 

“Wow, you scared me. Uh yeah, we did.” Your voice is a little shaky. You can’t believe Eddie is talking to you. You knew it was probably no big deal. It’s not like he was actually famous or anything. His band played at a few dive bars around town and that was really it. 

“I’m glad you came out to the show. Did you have fun? I gotta say, I didn’t think this would be your scene. From what I remember, in high school you were in a different crowd.” He’s smiling down at you. 

You look past him to see Robin staring at you with her eyebrows raised. Steve is also staring at you, the girl he was previously talking to had left. You raise your eyebrows back before turning to look up at Eddie. “Yeah, I remembered you had the band in high school and saw you guys were playing tonight. I thought we’d come check you out.” 

Eddie looks over his shoulder and you see Robin and Steve quickly glance away. “I see you’re still friends with Steve Harrington.” He says his name with an annoyance in his voice. Eddie and Steve didn’t exactly get along in school and it seems like Eddie hasn’t forgotten that. 

You chuckle nervously, “Yep. We’re still friends. So, the show was good. You were really great up there.”

“Thanks. That means a lot. I’m glad you had fun. I’ll let you get back to your friends. Maybe I’ll see you around some other time? We’re playing here again next weekend.” 

“Maybe we’ll come watch you guys again.” As you walk back towards Steve and Robin, you try not to overthink too much about your conversation with Eddie.

“Didn’t know you were friends with The Freak.” Steve is saying as you all start gathering your things.

“Oh shut up, Steve. We’re not in high school anymore. Can you at least try to act like an adult?” Robin elbows Steve in his side earning a little “ow” from him.

As you all walk to Steve’s car, you’re telling them about Eddie’s band playing here again next weekend. It takes some convincing from you and Robin, but Steve offers to drive again next weekend.

“Do you like him or something?” Steve is asking you as he drops you and Robin off at your apartment.

You roll your eyes at Steve and say, “No, I just think it would be fun. And maybe next time you’ll have a little more luck getting some numbers.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Steve says before he drives off leaving you and Robin giggling at the door.

You and Robin spend the night overanalyzing the conversation you had with Eddie. Or rather, Robin spends the night listening to you ramble on and theorize your outfit for next weekend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the next weekend rolls around, you’ve spent countless hours going over how you’re going to talk to Eddie again. You’re still too nervous to approach him first, but you know you can’t leave the show without speaking to him. 

You hear Steve honk his horn outside and you make your way out front with Robin trailing behind you. Robin had been helping you get ready and listening to you freak out over what you should say to Eddie tonight.

“You girls ready to go? I hope this time is better than the last time.” Steve puts the car in drive and heads toward the bar.

Robin snorts and says, “Steve, you can’t base the fun you have on how many girls’ numbers you get. There’s more to life than girls.”

“Yeah, you’re one to talk.”

When you arrive at the bar, Steve grabs your drinks again and you and Robin head to the same table as last time. Robin nudges you, “Look who’s over there.” She’s smiling and you follow her gaze to the side of the stage where Eddie stands holding a guitar case and surveying the bar. 

When he spots where you and Robin are sitting he walks up to you. “Hi guys. Excited for the show?” 

You’re too nervous to speak, luckily Robin chimes in with, “Oh yeah. You guys were great last time.”

Eddie turns to look at you. You notice how handsome he is when his smile stretches all the way to his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be a lot of fun.” 

Just then, Steve returns and sets the beers down on the table. “Hey man, how’s it going?”

Eddie just gives him a little nod and says, “I gotta get up there, but I’ll catch you guys after the show.” When he says it, he’s just looking at you. You feel a tingling go through your body. You feel electric and you can almost feel the blush creeping up your face.

Steve stares after Eddie before turning back around to say, “Jeeze. What’s his problem?”

Throughout the show, you catch Eddie’s eyes a few times. Of course, Robin immediately notices and nudges you each time. When it’s Steve’s turn to grab the drinks, Robin is asking you if you’re actually going to make a move on Eddie tonight. 

“I have no idea. I mean, I want to, definitely. It’s just, I don’t know, we’re total opposites.” You gulp down the last of your beer. Robin assures you that Eddie would be interested just as Steve reappears with the drinks. You notice he’s swaying a little bit as he sets them down and you’re worried he won’t be able to drive home.

Corroded Coffin finishes their set and starts packing up, but Eddie breaks away and heads straight to your table. You stand up to greet him and that’s when you realize just how drunk you actually are. How many beers had you had? At least four, maybe even five? “Hi Eddie.”

“Hey. Like the show?” He’s still only looking at you and you’re not sure if it’s because he has something against Steve and doesn’t know Robin all that well or because he wants to look only at you.

“Yeah it was really great!” You’re excited and slurring your words.

All four of you talk for a few minutes longer before Eddie excuses himself to help the band finish packing up their equipment. 

Eddie is only gone for a few minutes when he returns just as you’re all gathering your things and getting ready to leave. Steve stumbles as he stands and he grabs the table for support. Eddie sees this and says “Hey man, you all right? If you’re not good to drive I can drop you all off.” Eddie offers.

Steves starts to protest saying that you’re all going to different places, but Eddie cuts in with, “Really, it’s no problem. I’ve got the van, you guys can just pile in the back.”

Robin and Steve turn to face you and your eyes are wide. Eddie Munson driving you home after his show? Of course, he’s also driving Robin and Steve home. And it’s because you’re all too drunk to safely get home. It’s nothing exciting. “Yeah, yeah. That would be really great, thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie leads the three of you out to his van. He offers you the front seat which you happily accept and the other two climb in the back. 

You can hear Steve and Robin giggling in the backseat. You’re hoping Robin isn’t drunk enough to spill your secret longing for Eddie. You know this is just a little crush and you’ll get over it. 

You give Eddie directions to Steve’s then to Robin’s house. Eddie pulls up in front of Robin’s and you get out to walk her to her door. “This is your chance, Y/N. You better go for it.” You whisper at her to shut up as she slips inside. 

Not much is said on the way to your apartment, but you’re filled with an electric buzz throughout your body. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the fact that you’re sitting next to Eddie.

“Thanks so much for the ride. I really appreciate it.” You say as you start gathering your things. Eddie responds that he’s glad to give you a ride. You’re not looking at him, but it sounds like he’s smirking and you blush at where your mind goes. 

You try to get out of the van, but you can’t seem to grasp hold of the door handle without dropping all your things. You laugh as you realize the alcohol is catching up to you. 

“Okay, hang on, sweetheart.” Eddie notices you struggling, gets out of the van, and walks around to the passenger side. He opens the door for you to help you out. “Let me walk you in, I’ll carry your things.”

You hand over your things in silence as you process that Eddie just called you sweetheart. You watch as Eddie fiddles with your keys before finding the one to unlock the door. “Ladies first.” He has one hand on your elbow and the other is pushing the door closed behind you. 

As he sets your stuff down on the entry table you catch yourself saying, “Do you want to stay? I mean, just have a cup of coffee or something? Unless you’re tired. I know it’s late.” 

Eddie says that he would love to, so you head to the kitchen and start preparing a pot of coffee. When you turn back around, you’re hit with an overwhelming sensation in your stomach. You’re going to vomit now. There’s no way you can make it to the bathroom so you  lean over the sink and heave. 

The next thing you know, Eddie is there behind you. He’s taking out the hair tie that had been holding his long hair in a loose bun and pulls your hair away from your face to tie it back. You’ve never been more embarrassed in your life. You’re vomiting in your kitchen sink in front of Eddie Munson who is currently rubbing small circles between your shoulder blades. Through your noises you can hear him saying, “It’s alright. I’ve got you.” Despite your current situation, a rush of heat shoots down to your core. 

Eddie helps you to your bed, leaving to grab a glass of water. When he returns, you’ve slipped under the blankets and are almost asleep. “There’s a glass of water on your nightstand. Call me in the morning and I’ll take you to get the car.” He says before turning to leave.

“Wait. You can stay here, it’s late.” You call out to him from your half asleep state.

Eddie stands in the doorway, debating on what to do. Part of him wants to leave to not make things awkward for the both of you in the morning. He’s not sure if you mean he can sleep on your couch or your bed. 

As if reading his mind, you tap on the bed and roll over sleepily. He doesn’t need any more insistence and takes his jacket off before tossing it on the ground and crawling into bed next to you. He leans up to look at you and realizing you’ve already fallen asleep, he lays back down. As he does, he catches  a glimpse of lacy black underneath your skirt that’s crept up your thighs. 

Eddie is completely still on his back next to you. He’s never told you this, but he had a huge crush on you in high school. He was more than surprised when he’d noticed you while he was on stage last weekend. During the entire set, he had been thinking of ways to talk to you before you left. He was a little disappointed when he realized you were friends with Steve and he’d been hoping Steve wasn’t going to talk you out of coming to the next show. 

When he’d seen you again tonight, he couldn’t wait to talk to you. He’d been hanging out at the side of the stage, waiting for you to walk in. He spent the entire show trying not to stare at you the whole time. He felt like he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He loved the way your short skirt flowed around your thighs. 

Eddie felt you shift, as he looked over he saw that you had kicked off your half of the blanket. With your skirt almost completely up your thighs, he had a perfect view of the lacy black underwear you were wearing. He felt the bulge in his pants grow. 

He knew it wasn’t right to stare, but he couldn’t help it. As quietly as he could, he undid his belt buckle and unzipped his jeans. Slowly, he pulled his pants down just enough to free his hardened cock. 

As Eddie began stroking himself, he imagined what your hand would feel like wrapped around him. He thought about you staring into his eyes as your hand went up and down. He wondered what you would taste like.

Eddie continued to pump his hand up and down while alternating between staring at your ass and imaging all the things he could do to you. He lifted his shirt just as he spilled onto his stomach. Carefully, he got out of bed and made his way to your bathroom to clean up.

When he returned, he draped the blanket back over you and laid down next to you. He wasn’t sure how he was going to fall asleep with the knowledge that he’d just finished himself off a few inches away from you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, you’re awoken to the sound of a voice coming from your kitchen. It takes you a second to remember that Eddie Munson spent the night.

“Oh, you know what, here she comes now.” Eddie hands you the phone as you walk sleepily into the kitchen. You see he’s already made a pot of coffee and is now cooking breakfast.

You know it’s Robin before you put the phone to your ear, you can already hear her voice. “Y/N, was that who I think it is that answered your phone? Was he there all night? What happened!”

“Yes and yes. I’ll call you later okay?” You hung up before Robin could say anything else. “Hey, thanks for the coffee. You really didn’t have to make breakfast though.” 

“After what you did last night, I figured you’d need some energy this morning. Don’t worry about it.” 

You’re shaking and it’s not from the alcohol last night. You’re still trying to piece together what happened. After what I did? What did I do? And then it all comes rushing back to you. You vomited in your kitchen sink right in front of Eddie Munson. And then you invited him to bed. And he accepted the offer. 

Eddie sets a plate down in front of you and leans against the wall sipping his coffee. “I figure we can pick Steve up, take him to get his car. And then…” He pauses, unsure if he should say what he’s thinking. You raise your eyebrows and he continues, “And then I was thinking later tonight, you might want to grab dinner? With me, of course.” 

You almost choke. Is Eddie asking you out on a date or are you reading way too much into things? “Yeah, yeah sounds good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Eddie drops you back off at your apartment after taking Steve to pick up his car. As soon as you’re through the door, you’re calling Robin. “Robin, oh my god.” You gave her a recap of exactly what happened the previous night - vomiting included. 

“You threw up in your kitchen sink and he still slept in the same bed as you. Wow.” Robin is laughing hysterically. “Steve, did you hear that? She threw up!”

“STEVE is there? Oh god, Robin I don’t want more people knowing about this. It’s embarrassing enough that I have to know.” You groan and slide down the kitchen wall to the tile. 

Steve has grabbed the phone from Robin. “Are you dating Eddie now? Because if that freak can get a date easier than I can, I swear…”

“Shut up. No, we’re not dating. Nothing even happened. Sure, we slept in the same bed, but that’s it. Okay?” Even as you’re saying it, you still can’t believe it happened. You tell Steve and Robin bye before you hang up and start getting ready for your date with Eddie.

As you’re in the shower, you think of all the things that could have happened had you not passed out. Your hand slips down to your folds as you slide your fingers around in small circles. You’re imagining it’s Eddie’s hands touching you. As you climax, you’re imagining Eddie’s fingers pumping in and out of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re just finishing getting dressed as you hear a knock on your door. “Come in! I’ll just be a minute!” After trying on almost everything you own and calling Robin countless times for advice, you’d settled on a short flowy black dress.

When you emerge from your room, Eddie is sitting on the couch. As he looks up at you his eyes go wide and all of a sudden you feel self conscious. You look down at yourself and smooth your hands down your dress. “You look…incredible.” Eddie finally manages to choke out.

You smile at him and he almost melts. He rakes his eyes over you and without meaning to actually do it, he licks his lips. “You ready to go?” He stands up and grabs your hand, leading out to his van.

You feel an electric buzz that flows throughout your body, centered on where your hands meet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You can hardly remember dinner as Eddie opens the passenger door to his van, helping you inside. You spent the entire time trying to think of ways to invite Eddie back to your apartment after dinner. You also spent quite a bit of time staring at his hands and imagining what they could do to you. So by the time you’re settled inside the van, your core is already pulsing with need. 

When Eddie arrives at your apartment, you’re surprised when he gets out of the van to follow you inside. “I thought we could hang for a little longer? I’ve been really enjoying talking to you.” He says shyly as you set your things down. 

The two of you sit on the couch and continue the conversation you’d been having about Steve. “He’s really not so bad once you get to know him, I promise.” You’d been trying to convince Eddie that Steve was actually a great friend.

“Well, I’ll believe that when I see it.” Eddie shrugs his shoulders.

Neither of you have mentioned the previous night. You know it’s probably not a big deal, nothing happened and Eddie was just taking care of you after you’d drank too much. 

“Want a beer?” Eddie nods his head ‘yes’ so you head to the kitchen to grab two beers from the fridge. 

When you return to the living room and hand Eddie the beer, your hands brush and neither of you pull away. When you sit down next to him, Eddie leans forward to set his beer on the coffee table. He turns to look at you, “You know, you really do look incredible. Thanks for going out with me tonight.”

You can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you set your beer down next to his. “T-thank you. You look pretty handsome too.” And he does. He’s wearing dark jeans, black shirt, and a dark leather jacket. You can’t help but think what he looks like under his clothes. As you look him up and down, your eyes stop on his lap. You can see a bulge, a very big bulge, under his jeans.

Eddie sees you notice and lets out a little chuckle. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you reach towards him and run your hand from his temple to his cheek.

Eddie stills, shocked. After a second, he grabs your waist and pulls you on top of him. Foreheads touching, you stare into each other’s eyes for just a split second before your lips meet.

Eddie’s hands are roaming up your back now, your hands tangled in his hair. “Fuck. I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you at the bar.” He says into your mouth. 

“Mm. Me too.” You breathe just as he rolls his hips hitting your sensitive bud and you let out a moan. 

This is better than he imagined in your bed last night while he pumped himself. “I touched myself last night thinking about this. I was thinking about all the things I want to do to you.” He licks a stripe up the side of your face. 

His words and the friction make you moan into his ear. You tell him how you fingered yourself in the shower, imagining his fingers inside you.

Eddie swears he could cum just from hearing you talk. He scoots you back so he can pull his jeans down before grabbing your hips and rolling them across his cock. Eddie lifts up your dress and pulls your panties to the side. “Is this what you want?” He asks as his finger brushes your clit.

“Mhm. Yes, please, Eddie.” Your hands are pulling his hair and you place kisses down his face before sucking a mark on his neck. 

Eddie lifts you up so he can swipe himself through your folds before lining himself up with your entrance and sliding you down. You gasp as you take the full length of him before tugging his hair even harder.

He gives you a few seconds to adjust to his size before bucking up into you. You can’t hold in the moans that escape from your mouth and your entire body is trembling. You’ve never felt so full. You weren’t a virgin, but it felt like Eddie was stretching your walls as far as they could go. 

“Yeah? Is this what you thought about in the shower?” You can’t speak so you just nod your head ‘yes’. “Use your words, baby. I want to hear you.”

“Y-yes, this is b-better than what I imagined.” Eddie moved his hands from your hips to pull you to his chest. He cradled your head with one hand with his other resting on your lower back. 

Kissing your head he murmured praises into your ear. “You’re doing so good.”

“Eddie.”

Still inside you, he lifts you up and carries you to your bedroom. Placing you down on the edge of the bed and kneeling between your legs, he continues to pump in and out of you. Pulling your dress up he groped at you while using one hand to pull your legs to his neck. “Oh, you’re so wet for me, baby. Gonna cum soon?”

You can’t form words, you moan in response. But remembering what Eddie said earlier you manage, “Gonna cum.”

“Cum on me, baby.” he moves the hand from your tits to circle your clit. In seconds, you’re gushing around him. “That’s it, show me what you’ve been thinking about.”

Incoherent words and moans fall from your mouth as Eddie fucks you through your high. His thrusts become erratic and he’s moved to holding both your legs up against his chest. He’s gripping your calves so tightly, you know you’ll have bruises. 

“Where do you want me, sweetheart?”

Shakily, you whisper, “Inside me. Please.”

“All mine.” Eddie pulls you towards him as he thrusts and releases himself deeply inside of you. “Fuck.” He whispers as he lets your legs down and helps you into the bed. His jeans still around his ankles, he takes them off before climbing in beside you. 

You turn to face Eddie, your eyes glazed over, “I guess our date went well.” He laughs and pulls you in tighter. 

Eddie is tracing shapes along your back, “We’re playing at the bar in a few days. What do you say if you come as my girlfriend this time?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” You nuzzle your head into his chest. 

Just as the two of you are drifting to sleep in each other’s arms, there’s a knock at the door. You both sit up and listen to the person knock again, louder. “Hello? You guys in there?” 

You look at Eddie with wide eyes, “It’s Steve.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2 is HERE

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of obsessed Johnny.

(Part 3 is here!)

(CW for nonconsensual ‘sort-of’ free use and edging; and again - dubious consent. Please stay safe!!)

Johnny’s favorite pastime is playing with you. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s being purposefully cruel, but no. He’s just… strangely preoccupied with your body.

He spends most nights cradling you between his legs, your back to his chest, arms wrapped around you. The two of you watch tv or movies, share popcorn - sometimes he watches you play on your Switch or reads over your shoulder.

It started out almost innocent (so to speak) in the beginning. He’s a fidgety guy, you’ve known that long before this whole mess, used to smile to yourself when you cleaned up straw wrappers and clean napkins folded into odd shapes.

So you barely notice when he starts fiddling with the hems of your sweatshirt and long shirts, picking at strings or running his thumb over knit textures. When he moved to your socks, that caught your attention but never went very far - just tugging at elastic lace or rolling/unrolling the tops along your thighs.

And then one night, as the two of you are watching the latest superhero movie, he hand creeps under your panties. You jolt the instant his fingers grazes your slit, hands twitching as you debate the dangers of redirecting him.

“Something wrong, Bonnie?” he asks against your ear, genuinely curious. “Is it too loud?”

It occurs to you that he genuinely might not realize what he’s doing - that reaching for you is just a thoughtless action like folding up bits of paper.

“Your hand is in my underwear,” you explain.

A pause. “Oh, so it is.” And to your surprise, he returns to hugging you.

It happens again though, this time you’re so preoccupied trying to beat a video game level that you almost don’t notice until his middle finger glides over your clit. You suck in a breath and die instantly.

“Damn,” he mutters. “Thought you had it that time. Gonna give it another go or you done for the night.”

Stuttering, you say you’ll give it another try, almost morbidly curious about how far he’ll go. Pretty far it turns out. He toys with your clit for 15 minutes before you clear your throat and shift, feeling unbearably wet and achy.

“Oh, shite. I did it again,” he mumbles, extracting his hand and settling it on the outside of your thigh. “No wonder you keep dying.”

The next time is during an intense tv show you’ve both gotten really into. It’s distracting from the weird reality you’ve found yourself in - but not weird enough that you can ignore Johnny tapping his finger nervously over your clit. You swear your heartbeat is starting to match that rhythm - tap, tap, tap. He doesn’t get the hint when you shift this time, eyes locked on the screen as he mutters to himself.

“No way is he secretly her brother. No fuckin’ way.”

You try to ignore it. Hope it’ll end in its own time when the tension dies down. It doesn’t. He lets the next episode load automatically, babbling to you about the crazy cliffhanger.

As it opens, his fingers travel down your slit to your entrance, find the slick there and play in it. Microthrusts against your leaking hole, just wetting his fingertip before dragging it out, up to your clit, three circles, then back down again.

It’s maddening but it’s not enough. You’re biting your lip so hard you’re surprised you don’t taste blood, thighs twitching with each jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

On and on it goes, slow and absent, maddening. Literally just playing with your pussy like a fidget toy. He’s not even fully hard against your lower back! Just the normal amount of mildly turned on that having you in his lap produces.

It’s driving you into a fucking spiral. So so sensitive, so close to the edge, but never enough. You just lay there trapped against him, dripping and desperate and determined to be quiet because you don’t know what else to do now. You can’t let yourself get off to this - but you also can’t find the words to remind him to stop.

When the episode - the finally - finally ends, he pulls his hand away, already gearing up to discuss theories for the next season with you. Instead, he’s cut off as you hiccup, near tears with being denied.

“What’s wrong, hen? I didn’t think it was that bad!” he says.

“You-you were…” you can’t get the words out, give up entirely. Time to see if he really is as devoted to pleasing you as he always swears.

You crawl out of his lap, flip onto your back, and yank him down by the hair. He makes a startled noise, eyes going huge, and then whimpers as his cheek presses into your absolutely soaked panties. Even that is a cruel but unintentional tease.

“Fix it,” you near sob.

“Of course, baby, of course,” he hurries to say, wriggling into a better position. “I’m sorry, love. So sorry. Got you all spun up, huh? Didn’t mean to. You’re just so soft and-”

You whine. “Soap, shut up and lick me!”

He moans, hips jerking hard into the mattress. “Yes, ma’am.”

#thoughts™️ #cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #obsessive johnny #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish

[pricesbeltbuckle]

Can I request the 141 boys with a shy reader who gets to talking about their hobbies or whatever, really starts opening up, only to get self conscious and say something like, “sorry I talked so much.”

Shy - TF141

Pairing: TF141 x GN!Shy Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff, Hurt-comfort

John Price:

So what has Price noticed while dating you? You ever so rarely speak more than a couple of sentences. 

And oh god when he would introduce you to people you’d shy behind him like a child, he never understood why.

So when you started to talk more about a certain hobby you liked he was ecstatic. It was just you and him, at home in bed watching a movie but not really paying attention.

Then something in the movie caught your eye and reminded you of something from your childhood, your eyes lit up as you began to start rambling on and on.

“Yeah so I used to-” “Hm? What’s the matter, why'd you stop?” John looked confused, he was genuinely interested in what you were saying, “Sorry, I talked too much.”

His heart melted, he was so upset hearing those words. He didn’t know whoever told you that you talk too much but he never felt more enraged in his whole life. “No sweetheart you never talk too much, I could listen to you talk for hours and hours keep talking I wanted to hear the rest.” He saw you smile as you kept talking, he truly did love you.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

He’s always encouraging you to talk more, he adores your voice and also he can’t really tell your emotions when you’re just quiet so it scares him.

He always loved when you spoke even if it was only a couple of sentences or words here and there, and when he introduced you to his mates and you kinda hid behind him he chuckled a bit.

But when you guys went out to go watch the sunset and you started to ramble a bit, he was so excited but he tried to stay calm so as to not interrupt you.

“Honestly it was one of my favorite-” “You okay? I was listening.” Kyle looked at you a little worried but upset because he wanted you to keep talking, keep rambling about nonsense forever.

“No sorry I talked way too much.” Kyle’s heart shattered and he had to keep it together as he wrapped an arm around the small of your back. “No baby keep going, I wanted to hear the rest I love when you talk.” He saw your eyes light up as you kept talking and he listened to every word.

John 'Soap' Mactavish:

We all know that man is a talker, like you can’t get him to shut up. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to listen to you talk. In Fact whenever you begin to speak he automatically shuts up.

When he introduced you to his friends and even family you were a nervous wreck and hid behind his back. He explains to everyone you’re just shy and holds your hand for comfort.

But there has never been a thing in the world he’s wanted more than for you to just talk about something, anything. 

So when you started to ramble to him before going to sleep in your shared bed, he immediately woke up and listened intently.

“Yeah and that's-” “Keep going, what happened next?” he was so bummed when you stopped talking, you left him on a cliffhanger :(!

“No it’s okay I talked way too much.” Soap frowned, “No lass, you never talk way too much. I love hearing your voice, please keep going?” And then he got excited when you kept speaking. He listened until you got so tired you fell asleep.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

This man is so quiet, but not in a shy way. He just doesn’t think talking is necessary. So he kind of expected you to do all the talking. But then he realized how shy you were and started talking more so you weren't uncomfortable

When he introduced you to people and you hid behind the boulder of a man, he acted like a bodyguard. “They're shy, give‘em a bit.”

But when you guys are alone and you’re watching him cook dinner and you have the urge to just talk, he’ll listen like a goddamn dog. Sometimes even chuckling at things you say or adding commentary.

But then when you cut yourself off, “I know right! But then-” He didn’t even give you the chance to say “I was talking too much.” Because he was so quick to respond.

“Keep talking Lovie, what happened? I love when you talk, please keep going.” And you smiled to yourself as you continued on with what you were saying, he truly loved every single word you spoke.  

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #captain price #john price x reader #john price cod #task force 141 #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #john price #cod fluff #john soap mactavish #john price x you #price x reader #price x you #price x y/n #john soap mctavish #soap x reader #soap mw2 #soap call of duty #ghost cod #soap mactavish #soap cod #john 'soap' mactavish #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick

[steventhusiast]

STWG prompt 11/2/24

prompt: date night

pairing/character(s): steddie, hellfire club

it's valentine's week!! hopefully i can do all the prompts this week :)

"And with that, the barkeep..."

Eddie pauses in his storytelling to glance away from the notes hidden by his DM screen and over to the clock. His eyes widen at the time. Is it really 7:53pm already? Shit.

"With that, this session is over. You'll find out what happens with the angry barkeep next week!"

Everyone in the room groans at that, a chorus of 'seriously's and 'what the hell, Eddie's starting up even as he hurries to put his notes back into his DnD folder, and dumps all his dice into his bag haphazardly.

No one seems to notice for a moment, too busy complaining about the cliffhanger, when Gareth suddenly pauses and examines Eddie with a curious look on his face.

"Hold on, you promised we'd finally find out more about the temple this session? Where was that?"

Eddie huffs in response, and doesn't even look up as he starts folding his DM screen.

"Yeah, that was before you guys decided to talk to every single person at the tavern for an hour and start a barfight."

"That's never stopped you from getting us to where you want us before!"

"Yeah!" "Exactly!" "Please, Eddie. What happens with the barkeep."

Eddie waves a hand at everyone, and looks up to see the younger kids complaining quietly to each other, and his closer friends still seeming to inspect him carefully. He supposes they're valid in that; he's not one to back down from his plans, and has never cut off a session like this before.

But. Today is special. Today he has...

"Oh my god, you have a date." Jeff suddenly says, his eyes a little wider than usual as he grabs at Freak's arm.

"What?! Who the fuck would he have a date with?" Freak scoffs.

Eddie ignores the blush fighting to appear on his cheeks and starts collecting all of his figurines scattered around the table.

"Eddie has a date?" Mike suddenly joins in from across the room.

And, great, now the baby sheep are involved too.

"It is none of you guys's business what plans I have after this session. But, really, I gotta go." Eddie tries, but now Dustin's attention is on him as well.

"That's so funny! Steve has a date tonight too- that's why we had to ask Nancy to pick us up tonight." He says with a laugh.

Eddie laughs along with him, a little strained now because Gareth, Jeff and Freak are now squinting at him.

"Yes.. What a coincidence." Gareth says slowly as Eddie continues to pointedly avoid eye contact.

"Anyway! Got a lot to, uh. Do. Running a bit behind schedule actually, so if you could.." Eddie says as he finally finishes shoving everything back into his backpack and throws it over his shoulder, gesturing toward the drama room's door.

The younger kids leave without much complaint, but Gareth, Jeff and Freak hang back and walk slowly alongside Eddie.

"So... Steve Harrington?" Jeff asks once the kids are out of earshot, his tone a little disbelieving.

"Don't say it like it's a bad thing!" Freak slaps him on the shoulder disapprovingly as he speaks.

"It's not a bad thing! Just.. unexpected!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Eddie tries.

"Sure, sure. Enjoy your totally not a date night that's totally not with Steve 'the hair' Harrington." As Gareth says that, they've finally reached the doors and Eddie can well and truly escape.

He's going to have to break a few road laws if he wants to get to Steve's on time. It's only their third date, so sue him if he wants to try to make a good impression.

Even if Steve's been his friend for a few months now, and already knows about his horrible time-keeping skills.... It's still worth a try. Anything to woo Steve Harrington.

-

part two

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #stwgdailyprompt #dailydrabble #mywriting

[chuuyasheaven]

"Outsmartin' failed"— Fyodor & Dazai

"You have been having the weirdest dreams lately. Two handsome men, which were probably not human, have been appearing in your dreams a lot. In those dreams, they always try to seduce you. Since this started to worry you, you tried to just stay awake, but they were standing in front of you the next second. Was this a hallucination or real?"

Tags: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu / afab! Reader, threesome, rough sex?, incubus! Fyozai, overstimulation, does this count as monster fucking?, idfk what's going on, oral sex (bj's and pussy eating), fingering, teasing, praising, pet names?, might contain grammar errors, discontinued and short, rushed probably, etc.

Notes: I want 2 experience this so badly tho idrk, also, this is gonna be left on Cliffhanger since I'm VERY busy atm . .

You're not sure if you're hallucinating or if this is actually happening, but either, this seemed to be better than any other dream, so why did you try to avoid it again? Oh, right, two demons, you're not really sure, kept appearing in your dreams. Not gonna lie, but they were attractive, which helped with their seductive attitude. Since it was kinda odd to you, you tried to stay awake to see what happens, which was one of the best mistakes you made that night. Because, they were suddenly in front of you, and the next thing you know they had you on your fours. .

On your fours, one dick in your mouth and fingers in your cunt. The brunette, Dazai, was the one fingering you. The black haired, Fyodor, was the one you were sucking off. And they were anything but gentle. Fyodor was grabbing your hair, forcing himself to go deeper into your throat, Dazai was behind you fingering you good. You tried to concentrate, you really did, but this was way to much to handle. "Awe, look at you, already drooling are we?", Fyodor recalled, drool rolling down past your lips. Your back was arching when Dazai found that one spot, you moaned around Fyodor's cock, leaving vibrations. As Fyodor was getting closer, you were seconds away from cumming with the way Dazai was fingering. Fyodor trusted into your mouth a couple times before cumming in your mouth. "Be a good girl and swallow,", he told you, you listened to Fyodor and did as he told you to. When Fyodor pulled out, there was some cum rolling down your lips, he wiped it away. "We can't let this go to waste, dear.", Fyodor held his finger in front of you with a little of his cum on it. You stuck out your tongue to lick it clean, holding eye contact with him as you did.

"Good girl.", you let his finger out of your mouth when Dazai hit that spot again, perfectly this time. Dazai was getting more aggressive with it, before you came all on his fingers almost screaming. You think that everything? Wrong, think again. They switched, Fyodor was behind you now, while Dazai was in front of you. Your breath hitched when Fyodor's tongue made it's way inside your cunt. You let your head sink at the pleasure, this did feel better than Dazai's fingers. Dazai grabbed your chin with his one hand, his eyes looking at you seductively. "Keep your eyes on me, 'donna, I have another job for you.", Dazai held up the fingers the pleasured you with, suggesting for you to lick them clean like you did with Fyodor. You fluttered your eyes close as you stuck out your tongue again, licking off your own cum, while Dazai was smirking at you shamelessly. Looking up to him to look at him innocently made him hard, what made him even harder was your moans those were caused by his partner. When your done, Dazai crouched to be on your level.

"Feels good, doesn't it?", he asked while staring into your eyes waiting for a response. Nodding, Dazai looked at you as if he expected words. "Y–yeah.", your flushed face amusing him. Dazai neared your lips until he was inches away. "You're so cute, y'know?", Dazai was kissing you before you could do anything else. He was kissing you roughly, his tongue now joining in, you moaned into the kiss while Fyodor found the spot with his tongue. Dazai pulled you closer, full on making out with you now, you were getting close to your second climax. Separating from the kiss for air, you were drooling again. "What, do I kiss that good?", he stood up with a smirk. "Are you done?", Dazai asked the black haired male. "Almost, as it seems,", Fyodor stated while his words sent vibrations into your cunt, which resulted into your second orgasm. Fyodor was making his way back to Dazai, looking down onto you with Dazai.

"—Who do you want to go first, me or Fyodor?"

I'm really sorry abt this, guys

#Rei's Kinktober 2023 !! ❤️ #dazai smut #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #osamu dazai smut #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs fyodor #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor smut #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor

[feyreswaterybowels]

⭒The Silent One⭒

#3 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Azriel finds the guy that sold Cassandra. Lots of bonding happens with Cassandra, Azriel and other members of the IC. Slight cliffhanger.

Warnings/Tags: mentions/implied rape. Mention past sexual abuse. Mentions pregnancy from rape. Slow burn. Violence. Brief victim blaming. Found family. Protective!azriel. Protective!IC. GRAMMER ERRORS—I plan on going back to edit this please don’t judge me too hard I’m gonna have a busy week and just really wanted to get this posted for y’all🩵

Authors Note: all reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next chapter. Regular italics are inner thoughts and bold italics are mental communication.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

Azriel stands in the darkness of night watching. Waiting. Body thrumming with anger. Calm cold anger. The kind that got people killed if they didn’t give him what he was looking for.

Only moments after Cassandra’s departure had his shadow returned to him. Telling him where to find this Vale. This horrid male who was taking females away from their family and selling them off—profiting off of them like livestock.

He sees the male, recognizes him from the briefs flash of memory Cassandra let slip at dinner, the one where this mad had choked her, slammed her against the wall just for needing to use the restroom.

The male is loading something up in the back of a wagon, the building behind him dark and dingy. Azriel let his shadows take him closer. Closer. Until he was standing in the alley between this man's house and another. The smell was horrid, small creatures scurrying about looking for their meal for the evening.

The male retreats into the building and Azriel lets a shadow loose to follow him—to be his eyes inside of this building. Inside is just as dark and dingy and piled high to the roof with…stuff. The blue skinned male navigates the maze of boxes and bins and trash with ease. He seems to be the only one here but Azriel knew better so he waits following the man through the seemingly endless maze.

That’s when he hears it, his shoulders going tight, his jaw clenching. Crying—no sobbing. A girl begging to be left alone as the male grabs her and pins her down to the floor.

“Fuck,” he growls. He pounds his fist against the outside of the building, taking chucks of the stone out. It’s loud enough to distract the man, to get him away from that girl as he rushed from the room under the floor, locking the locks and coming out. Looking around wildly for the source of the sound.

Azriel winnows, leaning against the wagon the man had been loading before, whistling to get the man attention. He whirls around, black eyes narrowed in anger, freezing in place when they land on him.

“Shadowsinger?” He grunts, narrowing his eyes at Azriel. “What brings you to these parts?”

Azriel looks him over, the smell of shit, piss and rot was overwhelming even from this distance.

“Vale,” Azriel says, to let the male know he knows who he is, rightfully see the fear in his eyes. “I’m looking for something and I hear you’re the one to help me.”

“I ain’t got nothing you need, pretty boy,” Vale sneers, crossing his arms, looking Azriel over. Trying to come off as tough but it’s actually laugh-able.

“Are you sure?” Azriel asks, pushing off the wagon. Letting his wings spread wide, walking closer, towering over the male. “See, I’ve got this female telling me you bought her from her dad and sold her to a pleasure house. I mean, tell me I’m wrong, man. I’ve just gotta check on these things. It’s a pretty serious accusation and all.”

“That chick’s got the wrong guy. I would never do something like that. These bitches are always trying to get us males in trouble,” Vale said, seeming to relax. Big mistake.

“You think so? Just tell me if you know her man. About this tall, really pretty, tan skin, white hair. Wings.” Azriel growls the last word, the man’s eyes widening again, taking a step back.

“Look, man, it’s not like that. Her dad owed me money, so he gave me her instead cause he couldn’t afford to pay me back, okay? So I didn’t technically buy her,” He stammered out, trying to explain himself.

“Oh,” Azriel said, nodding his head. “Well, I mean, if you didn’t technically buy her then no law was broken.”

“That’s right!” The male nods, sighing in relief. “No law was broken, man. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t do that—”

“Yeah. I get it,” Azriel nods, shifting. Looking towards the building, then back to the low life in front of him. “And that female inside? Did you buy her? Is she here of her own free will allowing you to rape her daily?”

“Fuck,” Vale whispers, turning and running down the cobble stone road. Azriel stands there watching, a grin stretching his lips as he lets the male think he’s getting away.

“Send Morrigan,” He calls out to Rhys as he watches the male.

“She’s coming.”

Then he's gone again, just as Vale looks over his shoulder to try and spot him, only to smack hard into a body that came out of nowhere. He looks at the shadowsinger towering over him, swallowing thickly.

“What do you want from me?” The male nearly cried out as Azriel grabbed him and pulled him up, slamming his face first into a stone wall. The resounding crunch of his nose breaking is ever satisfying.

“Her name is Cassandra,” Azriel snarls into the man's ear. “She told us what you did to her. What you did to that female you have locked in that disgusting building. We know there’s more girls. We will find them all and when we do, I’ll let each one take a turn with you. Their weapon of choice. And you’ll feel exactly what they felt.”

“Ple-please. Please, just kill me,” The man begged, fighting in Azriel’s grasp but he was no match for Azriel’s strength.

“And what kind of justice would that be? Did you stop when those girls begged you to? Did you give them death with they would have preferred that over you using their bodies?” Azriel asked, scenting the smell of urine as the man pissed himself. “You deserve everything you’ve got coming to you.”

Before the pathetic excuse of a male could beg or plead any more Azriel grabbed the back of his head, smashing it into the wall, letting him fall unconscious to the ground. He left him there binded and hidden by shadows, stalking back to the building where he spotted Morrigan easily.

“Don’t tell me this is where he’s been keeping those poor girl?” She asked when she spotted him approaching.

“Unfortunately, I think it is. She said under his house but he could live here. I’ll question him more. I know there’s at least one female inside,” Azriel explained, guiding Morrigan into the building. Be could get the female on his own but he knew it was safer to have a female companion—after all they’d been through the least he could do was make sure a female was the one to comfort them.

They get to that basement floor, unlocking the various locks and pulling the hatch open. It’s as dark and dingy down here as it was in the rest of the building. Morrigan enters first, taking Azriel’s hand to steady herself on the old wobbly stairs.

“Your wings won’t fit down here,” She said, hushed. He nods at her. “Send a shadow if I call for help.” It’s said jokingly but he knows she’s serious. He’d rip the floor from this building to help her if she needed it.

Mor squinted her eyes in the dimness of the sellar, resisting the urge to plug her nose from the horrid smell.

“Hello? Is anyone down here?” She calls out, looking up from at Azriel when there’s no reply. “Hello, my name is Morrigan. I work for the High Lord. The male keeping you here is—”

Morrigan’s cut off when I body slams into hers, knocking her to the ground. She cries out in surprise when a sharp sting slices across her cheek.

“Stop, hey, stop! I’m here to help!” Mor calls out, trying to catch the hands of the female fae on top of her.

“Mor!” Azriel’s deep voice calls.

“I’ve got it!” Mor calls back, grabbing the girls wrists. “Please, stop! Vale is gone! He can’t hurt you, please, stop!”

The girl stops fighting then still tense where she’s straddling Morrigan’s middle section.

“He’s gone?” She whispers and Mor nods.

“Yes, he’s gone. He can’t hurt you any more. I swear,” She promises. Eyes finally able to take in the sight before her.

A fragile, naked, malnourished body sits atop her. Eyes not only shut but scarred as if they’d been cut—maybe by the same person that took Cassandra’s tongue. But what really got Morrigan, what had her ready to lose the contents of her stomach was the rounded belly attached to that nearly skeleton body. Her eyes welled and she helped the female to shift off of her body.

“Are you pregnant?” Mor whispers, trying to keep her voice from breaking as the female nods.

“Please, don’t let him take this one too,” She cries, reaching out to find Morrigan’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Promise me I get to keep my baby.”

“I promise, no one is going to take your baby away from you,” Morgan swears, a single tear falling down her cheek. “What’s your name, sweet girl?”

“Neema, my name is Neema,” She answers and Mors eyes widen. The girl Cassandra told them about.

“You and your baby are safe, Neema. We’re gonna take you away from here, okay?” Morrigan says, standing and helping the pregnant female stand as well.

“I have my friend Azriel here too, he will not touch you, he’s only here to make sure no further harm comes to you. He’s handing me a cloak for you to wear,” Morrigan explains so the female doesn’t feel uncomfortable. She nods, allowing Mor to wrap the cloak around her.

“Are there any other females here?” Azriel asks gently, wishing he hadn’t with the way she clenched at the deep mess of it.

“Not—not that I know of. The females come and go. There’s been no others for months…” Neema answers, grasping the fabric tighter around her body.

Azriel and Mor share a look the last females had to have been Cassandra and the other two she mentioned.

“I’ll stay and check the building before I head back,” Azriel informed, consciously softening his voice so as not to scare the female again.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

Morrigan winnows away with Neema and Azriel searches every inch of the building with his shadows. No signs of any other females. He leaves the building, needing to relieve himself of the horrible stench.

He retrieves the still bound and unconscious male, winnowing him to his dungeon. He strips him, places a gag in his mouth, dumps him into a chair and binds him to it. He would be dealt with later.

The sun would be rising soon and he wanted to be there when they informed Cassandra they found the male and the female—her friend?

He enters Rhys' study, Cassian and Mor there too.

“How is she?” He asks, glancing at Morrigan then his brother.

“Resting,” Rhys answers. “Madja looked her over. Thankfully the baby seems healthy, Madja’s main concern is getting Neema to gain some weight and begin healing herself.”

“We offered her to live amongst the priestesses in the library, she agreed,” Morrigan said, her brown eyes bloodshot and cheeks flushed.

“Good, that’s all good, they’ll help her heal,” Azriel nods his head crossing his arms. “I have the male in my dungeon.”

“Have you gotten any information out of him?” Rhys asks, standing from his desk.

“Not much. He admitted to knowing who Cassandra was, receiving her from her father and holding her. He never admitted to selling her but that information won’t be hard to get out of him,” Azriel explains and Rhys nods in agreement.

“You get whatever information you can out of him and then he’s dead,” Rhys orders, Azriel doesn’t need to confirm he already knew what Rhys decision would be.

“Are we telling Cassandra?” Cassian asks, the first words he’s said the whole time.

“We are. She needs to know he’s here, it may bring her some comfort knowing he’s locked away and Neema is safe. I think you should be the one to talk to her, Azriel,” Rhy says, turning his attention to the shadow singer.

“Me? Not Mor?” Azriel asked, a bit confused.

“Yes, you. She’s comfortable with you. You’re the one that apprehended him. I believe she would prefer to hear it from you,” Rhys nods.

“Okay, I can do that,” Azriel agreed.

“You handle that, I’ve got some business to attend to with the priestesses. We’ll all meet up in a few hours to discuss further action.” Rhys stepped around his desk, patting Azriel’s shoulder when he passed by him.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

An hour goes by before Azriel tracks Cassandra down. Finding her in the library, flipping through a book where she’s sat in the large window seat that overlooked the city below. A steaming cup of tea next to her.

“I thought you couldn’t read?” Azriel asks, leaning against the door frame, grinning when those green eyes meet his.

“I can’t. I’m looking at the pictures,” She said, holding up the book, some romance book from the looks of the two people in a colorful garden.

“Ah,” Azriel says, walking further into the room. Trying not to focus on the way her eyes track up and down his body the closer he gets. He holds his hand out for the book, flipping it over the read the title, snorting at it. “Secret Garden Romance, huh?”

She shrugs, taking the book back.

“I asked the house for a book with a lot of pictures, this is what I got,” She said, a small sweet breathy laugh escaped her lips and he couldn’t help his own smile.

“Did you end up getting some sleep?” He asks, watching her set the book down and grab the warm mug.

“I slept but not great,” She shrugs. “I can’t stop thinking about my sisters.”

“We’re gonna do everything we can to find them, I promise you that,” Azriel said, not even waiting for a beat. He would find her sisters and he’d beat the shit out of her father too.

“You know I took my older sister's place. It was supposed to be her he sold off but the way she had cried when he told her. I couldn’t let him do that to her so I told him to take me…I didn’t really know what he meant when he was selling me. I thought I’d be a servant like the ones we had when I was a kid or something. I never thought…” She trailed off, taking a deep breath.

“You’re not to blame for what happened to you. You were protecting your sister. You did a very selfless thing. You're safe now and your sisters will be, too,” Azriel said, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned towards her.

“Well, what about you?” Cassandra asked, gently changing the subject. “Did you ever get any sleep?”

Azriel sighed with a head shake. “No, actually. That’s kind of why I came to talk to you.”

Cassandra fixed him with a curious look, leaning forward as if to give him her full attention for whatever he needed to say. He looked into those glowing green eyes, filled with curious concern.

“We found that male. Vale. We found him,” Azriel said, watching the vast range of emotions flash through those emerald eyes.

“He’s here?” Is what she asks, fear tinging her voice. Azriel straightens his back.

“He will not touch you,” he declared, holding her gaze. “He won’t even come near you.”

I’ll fucking kill him if he does. He thinks but doesn’t add it out loud.

“He can’t get out of…wherever he is?” She asks, and he wants to reach out so badly to comfort her. The ache in his chest drawing him to her.

“No. He’s being held in a very secure place. I promise you’re safe here. You’re safe with us.” Azriel promises. You’re safe with me.

“Were there any females with him?” She asks and Azriel nods.

“The girl you told us about, Neema. She was the only one there—it had been only her for months.”

He watches as her eyes fill with tears, offering his hand for her to hold. She takes it, thumb tracing his scars unconsciously.

“Just her…alone with him for months. Gods, is she…I feel like okay isn’t the right word for what I want to ask,” She says, sadness written all over her face.

“She will be okay,” Azriel said. “She’s in bad shape. Pregnant, malnourished but we have an amazing healer and a library below the mountain. Many priestesses live there. Many of them have experienced similar traumas. They’ll help her heal.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment. He wasn’t sure what was going through her head as she sat there silently, grasping his hand and tracing his scars.

“I want him to die.” It’s fierce. Heated. Emotional. And it does something to Azriel’s heart, to his brain. He squeezes her hand. “I want him to feel everything we felt. To know the fear he put us through. I want him to suffer and then I want him to die.”

“He will die. I swear to the Mother. I’ll get every drop of information from him and when it’s time his death will be painful and slow,” Azriel swore, gently swiping a tear from her cheek.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

The next day is a day Cassandra would remember forever. She hadn't slept much the night before but Morrigan had practically begged her to have lunch.

Cassandra wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for a day out in the city but she felt safe with Morrigan. She nearly asked if Azriel could come too until she learned he would be spending the day collecting information from Kamari and Vale.

Morrigan picked out her outfit for the day and it was one of her favorites she’s worn since being here. A flowy silk top that tucked into a dark pair of slacks that raised high on my hips. They emphasized her longer legs in a way she had never noticed before. She had also pinned Cassandra’s hair up and out of her face.

She liked the way Azriel smiled at her when he saw her dressed this way. She blushed but was quickly rushed away by Morrigan, shouting something about wanting you to herself for the day for girl time.

Their first stop was a place she called the River House. A beautiful home that her mother would have loved. Morrigan had only had them stop here briefly to grab a few tote bags, wanting to shop while they were out but promised to bring her back and give her a proper tour of the house.

The city was even more beautiful when you were in it. The sun was shining bright in an endless blue sky. Better than any dreams she had ever had about it.

They went to bakeries, where Cassandra single handedly filled half a tote with various pastries.

Then a clothing shop where Morrigan helped her pick out some new clothes. A few everyday pieces. A gorgeous gown she wasn’t sure where she would wear it but Morrigan swore she would need it sooner or later. And then the softest, satin, dark blue nightgown—it had reminded her of the stones that glowed atop Azriel’s hands. Morrigan herself had picked out quite a few outfits and gowns of her own and a lace set that looked like something the girls in the pleasure houses would wear but she paid no mind to it—she was sure it would look gorgeous on Morrigan wherever she planned to wear it to.

Then they went to a place near the river for lunch, the glistening river was the perfect view while they ate.

“Do you feel like you’re settling in okay?” Morrigan asked, sipping on some kind of iced fruit tea while they waited for their food.

“I’m still…adjusting. I enjoy the company of everyone. I feel like I can trust you all. It’s just odd.” Cassandra says, taking a drink of her tea that was just slightly too sweet but she wasn’t complaining.

“What’s odd?” Morrigan asks gently.

“Trusting strangers more than I’ve ever trusted anyone else,” She says it like a confession, like she should be ashamed for feeling that way.

“I don’t think that’s odd,” Morrigan shrugged. “You’re around people like you, people you can relate to and get to know. It’s easy to feel safe with us in turn, causing your trust. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Cassandra smiles at Morrigan.

Their food comes soon after and they talk the whole time. Morrigan gives her the rundown of how Rhys, Azriel and Cassian all knew one another. She explained more about their titles and what each one of them did as a member of the inner circle. She told her about so much that Cassandra could believe she’d spent her whole live knowing practically none of it.

When they go to a bookstore Cassandra looks at a few before putting them back. Morrigan grabs them and tells her they’ll teach her to read—that she’ll love these books and so many more.

And when they finally get back to the House of a Wind it’s late. She's exhausted from carrying around nearly overflowing tote bags and eating more muffins then she can count.

A top the house where they have to land they’re greeted by the three males. Their solemn faces wiping the smile off your face. She caught Azriel’s eyes, sees the look of pure death there—a look that she just knows means he wants to kill someone.

And just like that, her perfect day with Morrigan took a turn straight down hill.

Tag List: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94 @purple-writer8 @little-missbookyworm @saltedcoffeescotch @namelesssav @slytherintaco @whatsupb @little-missbookyworm

#azriel playing games with that male in the beginning lives rent free in my head #I just know he enjoys fucking with guys like that #thinking they could be all buddy buddy making them feel safe then bam he fucks them up #az and Cassandra got a bit of bonding in #as did Cassandra and Morrigan #besties for the resties #acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #slow burn

[runningfrom2am]

in this life or the next

summary: It's the seventy-fifth annual Hunger Games, and you were just unlucky enough to get picked; but lucky enough for this Quarter Quell to feature pre-selected teams. You get paired up with District One's pride and joy, the one and only Rafe Cameron.

pairing: rafe x fem!reader

wc: 15k (oh my LORD)

tags/warnings: its the hunger games so like... yeah... violence and gore and stuff. definitely swearing, spoilers for the og Hunger Games movie I guess (but also not bc i changed it up a bit- you'll see), reader has a special talent that i won't spoil here, Rafe is lowkey a dick at the beginning, Ward being a shitty dad (what's new). also this isn't thoroughly edited bc.. its 15k words and i'm lazy.

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: hello lovelies!! oh my gosh i have been slowly chipping away at this for actual literal months, and i am so proud of how it turned out!! i’m really glad i could finally post it by my birthday!! (i’m 23 wtf??)

thank you so much if you're going to put in the time to read this, but it honestly means a lot to me that you've made it this far. reblogs and likes would be so appreciated and let me know your thoughts in the replies! i really, really hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. let me know if you want a part two of what happens post games, bc i think i left it at a minor baby sized cliffhanger. anyway, i’m off to eat cake now! enjoy!

Staring blankly out at the crowd in front of you, you attempt to process the echoing of your heartbeat in your ears.

"I'd like us to give a round of applause for our brave, brave tributes this year, and wish them the best of luck in this year's quarter quell!" Your attention is drawn to the woman next to you, the District Five escort, Opal, dressed head to toe in bright yellow. A universally happy color- what a joke.

The crowd is mostly silent and you can't bear the thought of even glancing in the direction of your parents. You turn silently as you're ushered back into the building from the stage, tripping slightly over your feet as the shock sets in. People are talking, possibly to you, but you can hardly hear a thing. You almost made it. You were almost eighteen- one more year and you would have been free.

You were granted the briefest of goodbyes to your family, but you were tempted to even turn that down. An action you regret not taking as your parents walk into the room, your mother with tears already coating her cheeks and your father trying to keep a strong resolve for you and your siblings.

"We'll see you soon, Bug. Remember we love you," He whispers into your hair as you sob into his shoulder. You know he doesn't necessarily mean in this lifetime.

Your tunnel vision settles back in as you're walked out of the room, glancing one last time over your shoulder only to see your dad's shoulders shaking from his silent cries as he turns his back to you.

You are quickly pushed onto the train taking you out of District Five, ignoring the other three tributes and your mentors as they talk. You just stare out the window with tired, red eyes and say a silent goodbye to the home you're already sure you'll never see again.

"Y/N..?" The girl next to you says, tapping you on the shoulder and making you jump.

"Hm?" You hum your acknowledgment, looking at the girl beside you. She's only a year older than you, and you went to school together for years; Maisie, you remember.

"I just wanted to make sure you hear them," Maisie whispers, gesturing to Opal as she starts to explain what the premise of the games is this year.

"So," she claps her hands together, clad in tacky yellow gloves. "I'm sure you have noticed that this year there are four of you, and you'll each be paired up with another tribute to compete. Not necessarily from your own District, but, anything is possible, I suppose. The exciting news is that there's a possibility for two winners this year! You and your teammate will be given a score throughout the games, and if your score as the final two is above ten, you will both be crowned victors!" The woman says excitedly- like it's a good thing.

"And if we don't have over ten?" The boy sitting across from you asks flatly.

"Well... the games shall continue," Opal explains vaguely, but you know what that means. You've seen it before.

"Okay, well, how do we get a good score?" The boy asks.

"I-" The escort starts, hesitance clear in her tone as she's quickly interrupted.

"You kill people," Your female mentor answers. She's leaning her elbows on the end of the table, standing with a knife in her hand, spinning it around like it's some kind of toy.

Your eyes drop from her form, staring down at the table in front of you, suddenly remembering your glass of water and quickly grabbing it when you realize your mouth has gone completely dry just from the idea of what's to come.

You arrive at the Capitol in the middle of the night and despite this fact, the crowds are still there. You didn't expect this, even though you've seen it on the beat-up television in your living room every year. It feels less real, somehow, when you're the one getting pushed through the crowd, not knowing what to do besides give awkward smiles to people yelling your name.

Your room is beautiful. You've never seen anything like this, but you can fully customize it at will with a remote, and this level of technology fascinates you. You spend hours flicking through different images that can appear on the walls, surrounding you in another world. Exhaustion and the sound of an artificial thunderstorm put you to sleep with the remote still resting in your palm.

"Up, up, up, my dear! We've got a big day ahead!" Opal's cheery voice startles you awake from your less-than-cozy spot on the floor. "There's breakfast on the table then we've got to get you down to prep, so hurry up, please." She says, and just like that she's gone, no doubt off to wake the other District Five tributes in a similar fashion.

"You're going to be meeting your teammates for the first time today so you can train together- gosh isn't that just so exciting!" Opal claps as you all stand in the elevator. There's a silence that follows as you and Maisie just nod, not excited about the whole idea. You're about to meet someone who will either be spending the last days of your life with you, or be killing you themselves, and you're not fond of either.

"This way you'll get to train together first, which I do believe to be a very generous act on behalf of the game makers." She adds, making you roll your eyes. How considerate. The most you can hope for is someone who is capable, and preferably someone who isn't in the twelve to fifteen age range, having seen that there were several drawn from different districts.

You shift on your feet as you try to adjust to the uncomfortably tight catsuit they squeezed you into, covered in what must be sapphire and diamond rhinestones, pinching your skin with every slight movement. Gold accents line the seams of the suit, extending out into something that resembles wings and lightning bolts protruding from your back. District Five; power. You get it, but we're the diamonds necessary? You hardly take note of the varying outfits you're surrounded with from the other kids in your district, before Opal is guiding the four of you up the line of extravagant carriages you're meant to parade out on for the people of the Capitol to fawn over.

You take note of where all of the other tributes from Five are lead, guessing based on the order of carriages that Maisie got paired up with another girl from Eleven, and the boys somehow ended up paired together. There must be some sort of personal aspect to this decision, considering you have watched those two boys fight back home. You're last, and Opal looks at you excitedly as you follow her up, and up, and up- to the very front of the line.

"Surprise!" She grins, clapping excitedly as you approach the very first carriage. "Y/N, getting paired with a career is huge. Your odds are good already, your partner has trained his whole life- he even volunteered."

"Sucks for him." You mutter under your breath as you get closer, eyeing up the boy in front of you, wearing an almost matching outfit. All the rhinestones make sense now, blending power with luxury could only mean as much.

"Y/N Y/L/N, meet Rafe Cameron. He'll be your teammate in the games." She smiles as she introduces you.

"Hi." You say quietly, taking his hand as he holds it out to you to help you up onto the carriage.

"Hey." He mutters, avoiding your gaze. It's off to a rough start for him for sure, seeing he's being paired up with someone from an outlying district must be daunting, when for you it should be exciting. Rafe did volunteer, yes, but he doesn't want to risk any kind of attachment- despite what the people of the Capitol want for their entertainment. He wants to come out alive, he doesn't care so much about who he's with.

"Okay, Y/N, remember to smile, please." Opal reminds you and you nod, looking down at her as you hold onto the handle in front of you.

You promise her with a nod, willing to do almost anything at this point to win the favour of possible sponsors. Again, your odds look better next to a career on that front, as well.

Quickly everyone is cleared away from the horses and the carriages and you start moving, catching you off guard and you stumble a little, readjusting your grip on the railing. "Careful." Rafe says beside you, quick to reach out to steady you if you needed it. You think you see the smallest of smiles on his face, but that must have just been your own mind trying to find comfort in anything around you.

"I got it." You whisper, blushing slightly. You've been with your teammate for all of a minute, and you're already proving yourself to be clumsy.

The lights hit your eyes the same time all the cheering does, being the first carriage, it's already so loud you can hardly hear yourself think. You snap out of it quickly, plastering on a smile once you see your own face on a giant screen ahead of you, you don't even look like yourself anymore. Your eyes land on the screen adjacent to the one showing you, seeing Rafe as well. He's smiling too, clearly having headed Opal's advice, or his many years of training is getting to him and he's excited. You really don't know. Then his head turns, and you turn your head as well, making dead eye contact with him for only a moment before he's looking past you into the crowds, taking in the moment.

When you finally get out of the extremely public eye and back into the building you exited from, you feel like you can finally breathe again. Not fully, in the tight, rigid suit they had you dressed up in, but more than you realized you were with all that yelling in your ears and lights in your face.

"District Five, right?" Rafe asks you as you're both stepping down and you nod. "Jeez, you don't talk much, do you?" He follows up with, taking a water bottle from someone who's walking by with them.

"I talk." You reply quietly. "Just... not much to talk about at the moment."

"The shock? Yeah, that'll do it." He nods, taking a sip from the water bottle and holding it out to you. You shake your head and push it away, making him shrug. "Shitty bust when you're not a volunteer."

You just stare at him, taken off guard by the comment. "That being said..." He leans in closer to make sure no one else hears. "I've been waiting my whole life for this, so don't ruin it for me, yeah?"

You pull back away from him and just nod again, not wanting to get on his bad side already. He won't be the one to kill you, probably, but it would still be nice if you spent your final days without your teammate hating your guts. "Thanks, darling." He smirks, patting your shoulder and brushing past you to go to the elevators.

The next day, bright and early yet again, you have your first day of training. You're sure Rafe won't even need it, but you certainly will. Your mentor told you he will likely be using it to size up the other tributes, especially considering there is a staggering amount of them this year, and you will need to focus on survival skills. Only survival skills, if you had to pick one thing- and your mentor drove that into your head until it was all that was echoing in your mind when you entered the training center.

After the trainers speech which ironically tried to do the same thing, you beeline straight for the fire making station. You're shocked to see almost no one else listened, definitely none of the boys, mostly lining up to show off their physical strengths, likely to try and intimidate each other. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't working.

You look up as you hear echoing laughter coming from the other side of the room, eyes scanning over the wall lined with silhouette targets, and racks with an array of weapons before landing on your teammate, laughing away with the other career tributes over a joke you didn't hear. He's got a spear in one hand, leaning his weight on it as his head drops back with laughter. You shake your head to get back on task, rolling the rough wood in your palms in hopes of making a spark. Good to see at least one of you is having fun, especially in your final days.

After a few minutes you get it, sitting back into your calves where you were kneeling on the ground, taking a breath of relief as you're satisfied with your success. You glance around to see how others are doing, giving a small smile and wave to Maisie when you see her, reading a book about different edible plants and trying desperately to memorize every image. You watch as Rafe takes the same spear he was leaning on before, hurling towards one of the targets. A direct hit, right in the chest, slightly right of the centre. You jump a little at the sound it makes on impact, looking finally at the boy who threw it.

He's pacing, huffing and looking a little frustrated with himself. A little to the left would have been perfect, but it was a kill shot nonetheless. There would be no coming back from that, and you count yourself lucky that it likely won't be you in place of the target in the games.

You quickly put out your fire and try again, making sure you've got the hang of it. You'll sit here all day if you must. After three more successful attempts, you're satisfied for the day, deciding you'll return to that station tomorrow and try again. You get up and brush the dirt off your knees, trekking over to where they have supplies to make game traps. You've never done this before, but there's no better time to learn, especially since your teammate has shown no interest in survival skills so far today.

"What are you doing?" Suddenly Rafe is standing behind you, as you're once again kneeling on the ground attempting to get the trigger on your bladeless trap to work.

You jump a little, startled by someone talking to you. "Uh, trying to make a snare, I think." You answer, turning to look up at him.

"Looks good." He nods, crouching down next to you. "Uh, isn't there supposed to be a blade or a spearhead or something on that piece?" He says, pointing to it.

"Well, yeah, I just didn't want to stab myself by accident." You laugh slightly, trying the trigger again- and this time it works, snapping forward into his arm.

"Ouch, yeah, fair enough." Rafe chuckles, rubbing the spot on his arm where the wood made contact.

You just nod and begin to reset it to test it again. "What if you can't get any of this shit in the arena?" He asks.

"What, a stick?" You ask, hitting the trigger one more time, sending the stick into his arm again, which he had decided not to move.

"Ow! Yes, a stick. We don't know what it will look like." He rubs his arm, examining the trap you built closer now.

"Then we're screwed I guess." You joke, leaning back on your calves again, watching him dissect it piece by piece to figure out how it works.

"So, is this like, your thing?" Rafe asks, and you tilt your head at him as you think it over.

"My thing?" You ask, unsure entirely what he meant. "I've never made one before, if that's what you're asking."

"Really?" He seems shocked by this.

"Uh, yeah, really. Unfortunately for you, you got paired up with someone who has zero survival or combat skills."

Rafe looks at you, a smug grin crossing his features. "Ha ha, very funny." He clearly thinks you're joking, but you're definitely not.

"I'm serious." You say, confused as to why he doesn't believe you.

His smile falters, replaced with wrinkles of confusion on his forehead. "But- I just watched you look at the instruction book for no more than like, three seconds before sitting down to make this."

"And..?"

"If you've never done it before it's supposed to be harder than that."

"Well, I've seen other people do it on TV and stuff every year for like, ever." You shrug. "I've just got a good memory, I guess."

Rafe nods, looking at the deconstructed trap in front of him for a moment, thinking about the implications of this. How far does this go? Could he use it? He'd never dreamt of having to work in a team in his games, but maybe it would benefit him after all. "Come with me." He stands up, and you follow as he paces over to two big screens, covered with a large array of different symbols.

"Try this, I just want to see something." Rafe says, standing next to you with his arms crossed as you quickly look over the screen, reaching down toward the one in front of you. You notice quickly that the screens mirror each other, all the images placed in the same spots as they are above. You look up at your teammate briefly who nods at you and then you tap one, watching it disappear from both screens before you tap the matching symbol. It's a matching game.

Your eyes are locked on the top screen as you tap away at the bottom one, quickly making all the images disappear one by one. It takes you no more than a minute to get rid of them all, and then a timer appears on the screen replaying your every move in real-time. Forty-two seconds. Were you really going that fast?

"Neat." Rafe says to himself, nodding as he watches it replay on the screen. That was impressive, sure, but his mind is straining to find a practical implication for this in the arena. "Go back to survival stuff. Learn as much as you can." He settles on, turning and walking off back to where he was before, returning to combat training.

The four days of training fly by insanely fast, and that's likely due to your dread of what's to come. you've got through everything in survival no less than three times, and you're pretty sure last night you dreamt of plants and making a fire. Not surprisingly, Rafe has left you pretty much alone the whole time, but you did watch from a distance as he cycled through every weapon the training center had to offer, proving he's almost mastered every last one. Of course, with over ten years of training, anything less wouldn't make sense. What scares you is the other careers showing a similar skill level to that of your teammate, but he seems to be on good terms with them. Again, maybe this would be a good thing in the beginning of the games.

You sit down for your last day of making fires and fishing hooks, working solely on memory since day one, you're feeling pretty confident that the elements or exposure won't be what takes you out- but you don't know if that's a good thing or not. You just hope your death will be quick.

"Y/N, c'mere." Rafe is suddenly calling to you, motioning for you to join him in the combat area. Not seeing much of a choice, and not looking forward to another day of doing the same thing over and over, you listen.

You make your way over, avoiding the gaze of other tributes who are looking at you like you're about to make a fool of yourself. It's possible you are. "I want you to learn how to use this." He says as you walk up, holding out the handle of a knife to you.

You take it, turning the sharp blade over in your hand. "I thought you were the weapons master." You joke, looking up at him briefly.

"Well, I need you to make fires and shit so you have to stay alive somehow, and if we get separated or something I need to know you can at least defend yourself. These are good from a distance and up close, but remember that any weapon you have they can take and use against you. So keep distance whenever you can." He answers, pointing over to the target about fifteen feet away. "So, throw it."

You look over to where he was pointing, adjusting your grip on the handle as you nod, taking in the information he's dumping on you. He is probably right, especially since you don't think he plans on protecting you himself. Why would he? If you die, he can still win without you.

You lift your arm over your shoulder, closing one eye to narrow down your aim before throwing it hard towards the target, which the knife bounces off of and clatters to the ground. You and Rafe both turn at the same time to look at the group that's laughing at you, the clang of the metal on the cement echoing loudly in the vast space.

"Don't worry about them. They're not there." Rafe is quick to grab another one, handing it to you the same way. "Try again, this time, hold it like this..." He says, grabbing your hand and placing your fingers in the correct spots on the handle. "Keep your wrist tense and straight, don't flick it or anything. Yeah, like that." He nods, taking a step back.

You look over how you're holding it, committing the feeling and finger placement to memory before raising your arm again. You throw it again, and this time it sticks, but your aim is off and it ends up in the target's leg. You look over at Rafe, unsure if you're hoping for approval or just satisfaction. "That's perfect." He nods. "Not a death blow, but that'll buy you time to get away. which is all you need."

"Okay." You agree quietly.

"Would it help if you watched me?" He offered, already grabbing a new knife while you nod. "So, you want to follow through with the throw, your shoulders should end about here if you're doing it right. You get more power that way, and better aim." He explains, standing with one foot forward, parallel to the target.

You step back to watch his strategy, noting the way he held the blade and his form when he aimed to throw it. He lets it fly from his fingers as his shoulders fall forward, smirking to himself as it hits the bullseye circle, right in the chest.

"You got it?" He asks, standing up straight again. You nod in response and he's handing you yet another knife to try again.

You go back and forth for hours, not caring that you're keeping anyone else from practicing. You're not the best at it, but it's become muscle memory now, and every time it sticks, most of the time hitting the silhouette somewhere. You tried the moving targets briefly, the gold, pixelated figures running at you quickly. You were immediately overwhelmed, and Rafe ended up having to step in to help. He said after that the minimal skill you had would be good enough to get away, and that is all you would need. You just have to focus on that.

You didn't talk a lot, besides taking a few short breaks to gather the knives and his arrows as Rafe explained the pros and cons of every weapon they had present, showing you briefly how to use some of them. Mostly how to defend yourself against them. It's hard for him to sum up years of training in one day, but he's dead set on the idea that you won't need most of it- just having to focus on keeping the two of you sheltered and fed, he can handle the rest; hopefully.

You sit outside the training center next to Rafe, waiting for your name to be called. It was the youngest female tribute from his district first, so if you had to guess, you would be third and fourth to go, which doesn't buy you a lot of time to decide what to do to best show your skills.

"What are you gonna do?" You ask, whispering in the deathly quiet room.

"Huh?" Rafe hums, leaning closer to hear you better.

You clear your throat, before speaking this time, unsure if you were clear enough. "What are you gonna do? Like which skill?" You clarify.

"Oh, uh..." He mutters, adjusting how he's sitting as he thinks about what to say. "I'm just going to cycle through some different weapons, different distance targets, I think. My mentors want me to show like, a variety of what I can do."

You nod at this, making a mental note of that. Maybe you should do the matching game and then try the knives. Opal told you that you would be scored both individually, and as a team. You hope you won't bring down his score too much, since you know he's aiming high. You planned on going for a mid-level score, not to be seen as a threat but also not as an easy kill. A perfect six would be your ideal score. "What about you?" Rafe interrupts your thought process.

"I'm not sure." You answer honestly.

"You should do your survival stuff. That will improve our team score, if we show them we have strengths at both." Rafe suggests. That's not actually a bad idea. Your individual score will likely be lower, but that's a risk you're willing to take.

"Yeah, I'll do that."

You ended up scoring a six, the judges obviously not seeing you as any kind of threat. This is what you expected, though, and you were correct about your group score as well. Rafe and you together scored a ten. On his own, he scored a ten, so you hadn't affected it in the way you feared. This left you reeling over the idea of other tributes seeing you both as a threat as you stand in yet another extravagant dress, waiting in line to be called out for your interview. The games were tomorrow, and the last thing you wanted was to get in front of a crowd and subtly plead with them to let you live, to send you gifts, and to give you their sympathy.

So far it's been in the same order they called everyone for assessments yesterday, which means you would be next. Rafe stands behind you, arms crossed in a suit that looks more expensive than any you've seen back home in all of your life, but he looks comfortable in it. Your dress is once again covered in rhinestones, and your waist is cinched in so tight you can hardly breathe as it is, so you're not looking forward to going on stage.

"Our next tribute, welcome to the stage from District Five, Miss Y/N Y/L/N!" You hear the familiar voice of Caesar Flickerman calling you out and some guards usher you forward onto the stage, very briefly glancing over your shoulder at Rafe.

You're quick to smile as you turn back around, giving a small wave to the host and then out to the audience as they cheer for you. For a brief moment, you feel as if they don't plan on watching you die as early as tomorrow, you feel as if they're rooting for you. "Hi!" You say as you get closer and Caesar stands up to greet you, shaking your hand and giving you a quick hug before gesturing for you to sit down across from him.

You look around the large theatre, spotting every camera you can. Your family is out there watching, somewhere, and you know they'll see right through this show you have to put on. You wish they wouldn't. You can picture so vividly your living room back home, with your parents and siblings scattered across the couch and the floor watching you with bated breath, they can see you- and on some level, you can see them too.

"Miss Y/L/N. Thank you for being here." Caesar sighs, reaching out and patting your hand where it sits on the armrest next to you.

"Well, I didn't have any other plans for the night, so..." You shrug, making him laugh. Laughter echoes from the audience and you smile, hoping that your plan to win people over is working.

"What? A beautiful girl like you?" He asks after he's done laughing. "You weren't planning on spending some of your free time with your teammate?" As if you got even a minute of free time since you've been here.

"Well, I guess we'll never know." You chuckle, looking back at the boy where he stands in the wing, giving you a small smile.

"Now listen, Y/N, Rafe is..." He has to stop after mentioning his name as cheers erupt again, laughing as he waits for the audience to quiet down. "Your teammate is, as you may have guessed, a popular face in the Capitol right now. Are you feeling lucky about your pairing?"

Rafe crossed his arms as he watches intently, feeling smug about his odds, especially now knowing the Capitol's opinion of him. He knows his dad is back home watching, full of pride that his son has become a fan favourite.

"I am." You answer honestly. "He's very talented."

"And handsome, don't you think?"

"I mean, who am I to argue with the people?" You joke, waving your hand dismissively as you hear the cheers pick up again. "Besides, his looks won't save us. We will save ourselves." You add seriously.

Caesar nods in acknowledgment, showing that to an extent, he agrees with you. "Well, I hope that you are right, dear." He smiles, getting up to signal you've run out of time. You stand as well, taking his hand as he holds it up above your heads. "It was so lovely to meet you, and may the odds stay ever in your favor. Y/N Y/L/N, everyone!"

You smile and thank him quietly, waving to everyone with both hands as you walk across the stage to exit on the other side. You take a few deep breaths as you step into yet another waiting room, watching the screen as Rafe is called out right behind you.

Rafe sits down on the chair across from Caesar after his introduction, which allows a few moments for the audience to quiet down. He smiles proudly as he rests one of his feet on his other knee, bouncing his leg with anxiety. He hopes it's interpreted as excitement. "Rafe." Caesar smiles at him, sitting back down as well. "I'll be honest, I have been so excited to finally meet you."

"It's good to meet you too." Rafe grins, chuckling slightly at the few whistles he gets scattered from the crowd.

"You got a fabulous score, how are you feeling about that?"

"Really good, yeah. Obviously I've been waiting my whole life for this opportunity, so it feels amazing to see it all paying off." Rafe answers, focussing on keeping the confidence in his tone.

"We can tell, can't we?" Caesar laughs, riling up the audience again, making Rafe laugh to himself as he softly shakes his head. "Yeah, yeah. So, with all this planning you've been doing, how do you feel about getting paired up? You probably expected to be going in solo."

"I did, for sure, but I don't think this is a bad thing." Rafe admits.

"Oh, getting along well with your teammate?" Caesar asks, a hint of suggestion in his tone.

"Yeah, we get on really well." Rafe exaggerates your relationship a bit, knowing it will earn you more sponsors, and maybe keep other tributes away from you in the games. "At least I think we do, I'm not fully sure about her thoughts on me, though."

"You scored incredibly well together, despite Y/N having a fairly average score on her own. What are your thoughts and feelings on that?"

Rafe chuckles as he leans forward a bit, pointing out to the audience as he speaks. "Don't underestimate her based on the score. I won't give you any spoilers, but trust me, don't overlook her. She's got as good a shot as any of us. Maybe better."

Caesar makes a surprised expression as he nods. "Well okay! Does she have some sort of secret weapon we should be worried about?" He chuckles, gripping the armrests and looking around as the audience laughs.

Rafe just shrugs in response, smirking slightly, which you can tell the audience just eats up. You're trying to decide if this is good or bad for you, though, as you watch, gnawing at your nails in anticipation as you stare at the screen.

"Okay, alright, don't spoil anything then." Caesar laughs. "It'll make for a better show, and I can get behind that."

After a moment of waiting for the cheers to die down, Caesar speaks up again. "Rafe, if I can ask, I know your father has a lot of influence in your district- how is he feeling about your selection for the games?"

You furrow your brow a little bit as you look at the screen, finally learning something interesting about your teammate. If he's from a prominent family in District One of all places, that would certainly explain his attitude. Rafe, on the other hand, doesn't want to talk about his father at all- but of course they would bring him up.

"Yeah, of course." Rafe replies, shifting in his seat. "He's thrilled, it's a huge honour to be here, and to be the first out of his children to be chosen is really special to me. I just hope I can make him and my sisters proud, he's always encouraged us to volunteer."

"I'm sure that you will." Caesar smiles at him. "I hope I will have the honour of hosting one of your sisters on this stage one day, as well."

Your stomach churns just watching this. How can any father who loves his children want this fate for them? This was your father's worst nightmare. You watch as Rafe nods with a smile, and you can see behind his eyes that he doesn't want that, not at all.

The audience cheers as they both stand up, shaking hands before Rafe leaves the stage, a cocky smirk on his face as he waves and winks at the audience. Before Rafe makes it down to the waiting room, you're grabbed an escorted out, heading for the elevator back to your room.

You can't eat, but you know you should. This will likely be your last meal for a while. You decide on just taking a large bowl of fruit and toast to your room, trying to get it down slowly with all the nerves, while you have a bath. Your parents never let you eat in the bath. It's hard to get out knowing this is likely the last bath you'll ever have.

The morning goes by in a blur, you feel Opal's arms around you as she hugs you goodbye and wishes you luck. You know you'll need all of it. You stare down at the ground in front of you as you're pushed onto a plane, of sorts, along with all the other tributes. Once you're sat down, you look around at everyone else. You remember all of their names as you scan over their faces, but you wish you didn't. You get stuck on one of the girls from District Eleven, Hope, who was only thirteen.

She's shaking, and you can see that from where you're sat down the row from her. She reminds you of Rue, the tribute from last year. Her death was a tragedy, it broke the hearts of everyone outside of the Capitol and the career districts. Hope's curly hair sat in a bun on top of her head, and tears fell down her cheeks as she sniffled. She got paired up with a girl from Twelve- the lengths the Capitol will go to to make a mockery of last years games will never cease to amaze you.

"Hey, you look a little pale." Rafe whispers, leaning close to you. You didn't even notice him sit down on the other side of you.

You shake your head slightly, looking down at your knees. "I'm fine."

"Don't think about it." Rafe instructs you, holding his arm out for the tracker to be injected as a guard approaches with the device.

You wince as you hear it get shot into his arm and he chuckles, shaking his arm off to ease the sting. You raise your shaking arm as they hold their hand out expectantly to you. You don't know what it is they're putting in you, but you've never been fond of needles. This is a million times worse. "It's not that bad," Rafe tells you, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel pressure on your forearm, followed by a sharp, stabbing pain. You bite your tongue to keep from making a sound, dropping your arm onto your lap as they quickly walk away.

"What did they do?" You ask him, trying to keep a steady tone.

"It's a tracker, so they know where we are in the arena." He explains quietly. You were the only two talking, and you notice it's earning you glares from several other tributes. Rafe notices this as well, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, taking this time to size everyone up.

The plane takes off, and before you know it, you're landing at the arena on the outskirts of Capitol property. You wonder if you're close to the ocean, not that you'll get to see it anyways.

You're paraded off of the plane, still trying not to let it show how afraid you are of what's to come. You make the briefest of eye contact with Maisie as she's pulled towards a different hallway, and neither of you have it in you to smile anymore.

"We've gotta get supplies, that's our first move." Rafe says to you as you're led out of earshot of other tributes, into your own hall.

"My mentor said to run." You reply quietly.

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. "Your what, one mentor said that? Cool. I have fifteen that are still alive and well enough to show up every year. I think we should get supplies." He tells you firmly, but you know that will get you instantly killed, maybe not him, but you stand no shot. "Just stick with me if you want to live."

You just nod a little bit, glancing at him again briefly before you're directed into a separate room across the hall from him. His pedestal will be next to yours, which is a bit of a relief. Your stylist quickly instructs you to strip, and then she helps you into the uniform you assume you'll all be wearing. It's exactly the same as last year, you notice this quickly, but with a '75' logo embroidered on the chest where the District Twelve tribute had her pin placed. Katniss, you remember her name was. She had volunteered for her sister, and at the time you contemplated heavily on whether or not you would do the same. She was so, so close to winning- to getting to see her sister again, but she and the boy from her district, the final two tributes, ended up committing together rather than giving the Capitol their Victor. It was an admirable stance, but you couldn't imagine what that was like for her family, and his.

You step off the concrete floor once you're dressed, instructed to get into the pod that will lift you up into the arena; a glass elevator. Your stylist says nothing to you as they walk out of the room, the glass door sliding shut in front of you. Your knees get weak as you realize you are totally, completely alone, and likely no more than twenty minutes from dying. You think of your family, your siblings, your dad- and the last words he said to you. You'll see him soon.

Your thoughts are halted when the elevator starts to move, lifting you up as the ceiling falls away and you can see sunlight coming through. You squint and shield your eyes as you try to look up to get a better grasp on your surroundings before you can even see anything. Once trees come into view you're frantically looking around, trying to process as much information as you can, and quickly. It's exactly the same as last year, but from what you can tell, flipped in reverse, and made larger to accommodate twice as many tributes. Or everything on camera last year was flipped. There's a silver cornucopia in the middle with the timer that's immediately counting down and supplies inside and scattered around the field in front of you. Rafe is to your right, and a boy from Seven on your left. He scored a six, the same as you, so he's not the biggest threat to you immediately.

You adjust your stance, getting ready to run once the timer hits zero. In what direction, you don't know yet. Rafe wants you to run to the supplies, but statistically, the most deaths will happen in the next five minutes and you don't want any part of that. The supply bags and weapons spread out on the grass are all the same too, by the looks of it. The closest bag to you got picked up by the girl from Seven last year, and it didn't have much of anything helpful. If you're remembering right, it had a rope and some matches, and that was it. It definitely would be useful, but you know you can do better. There should be a bag four pedestals to your right, with a water bottle, an emergency blanket, a fire starter, a first aid kit, and a knife. Right now, that's the one you have to get to. That's your best bet.

Ten, nine, eight... The timer ticks down to the final seconds as you look over at Rafe, who's already looking at you. You point to the bag as your eyes land on it on the other side of him across the field, and he looks at you confused. He's closer, he has a better shot, but you know he won't take it.

Rafe is confused, following your finger and spotting the bag. Why would you want that one specifically? There are others closer, he doesn't feel like now is a time to be picky.

Four, three, two...

Your ears ring with shock as the clock reaches zero, and you're watching most of the other tributes booking it for the center. No one has seen your bag yet as you jump down, beelining across the field and narrowly brushing past Rafe in your move for the small backpack. He stops to let you pass, almost crashing into you head-on. He doesn't have time to worry about you, so he continues on his path to the middle, but he's lost time. Precious time that he doesn't have to lose right at the beginning of the games.

He gets into the bloodbath that the cornucopia has already turned into, looking back over his shoulder quickly as he grabs at any weapon he can get his hands on. He quickly has to sacrifice the blade he just grabbed when he hears footsteps quickly approaching from behind him, turning quickly and plunging it into the boy's chest. He doesn't think to look at who it was.

Cannon's echo around you, and you're counting how many internally as you get to the bag, reaching down to grab it as you run past, trying not to slow down. You look back over your shoulder, hoping to spot your teammate somewhere, but you can't see him. You're scanning the area, blocking out the blood you see flying and scattered along the silver metal of the cornucopia. You can hardly hear any screams over the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You can't help but watch as the girl from Three jumps on who is supposed to be her partner, a girl from Twelve, snapping her neck in a second. Within moments, she just drops to the ground next to her- another cannon following. That makes a strong incentive for working in teams. At least Rafe won't betray you early on.

You freeze up for a moment, stopping to scan your surroundings. You still can't find Rafe, taking in the number of bodies scattered around the cornucopia and a few tributes running into the tree line. At least some people were smart. Something flies past your head, making you jump back a step as you look up ahead of you. Within an instant, you're being tackled back by the body of the boy from your district.

"Y/N, fancy seeing you here." He chuckles darkly while you try and fight him off.

"Don't!" You squeak out, him pressing his forearm down against your throat on the ground.

"I've wanted to do this since the second they called your name." He growls, shoving you down again.

"We can help each other, Jack..." You say weakly, clawing at his arm.

"You don't need me. You've got your career boyfriend- and whatever your secret weapon is." He scoffs. "You don't have a secret weapon, Y/N. He's bluffing and he won't convince us."

You gather all your strength and knee him in the crotch, scrambling to get away as he fumbles for just a moment. "God- you are a bitch!" He shouts, grabbing for your ankle just has you pick up the knife he had thrown at you. You grip it the way Rafe had shown you, quickly shoving it into Jack's leg. You just needed to get away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You exclaim, backing away quickly. Jack doesn't say another word, cutting his losses and getting up to make an escape for the woods. You hope he ends up okay.

You make your break for it as well, running back towards the woods as you once again scan your surroundings for your partner.

Suddenly you're on the ground, having run straight into the side of one of the pedestals and falling over it. You yelp with the sudden impact of the ground, scrambling to get up and continue when suddenly someone is grabbing your jacket, slamming you into the pedestal again. You scream, trying to shove them off, but they're much stronger than you. "Jael! Wait, wait- Jael!" You make out your own voice yelling the boy's name, which makes him falter. He's the oldest tribute from Eight- he seems shocked you even know his name.

In the moment when he loosened his grip, he jerks forward and then falls over you, a cannon booming making you gasp as you panic to get away. Rafe is quickly running towards you, slinging the bow he just used over his shoulder and yanking the arrow out of the boy's back. "Y/N, let's go!" He shouts, motioning for you to follow him as you continue toward the tree line, both of you keeping an eye on what's happening behind you as you disappear into the woods.

"Let's stay close, but not too close," Rafe suggests as soon as you feel safe enough to slow down, your chest heaving with the exertion of energy and boost of adrenaline. He glances at you briefly, then does a double take. "You okay? Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, coughing to ease the stinging in your throat. "I'm fine. You?"

"Good," Rafe answers, slowing his pace to match yours.

"We, uh, I think we should go the other way." You say, looking around to try and mentally place where abouts you are.

Rafe stops and furrows his brow at you, seemingly frustrated by your resistance. "Why does it matter?"

"The arena, it's the same as last year. Exactly the same. Just, scaled up a bit." You explain. "We should head south, that's where the river is. We'll need water soon."

Rafe laughs slightly, his demeanor changing as he places his hands on his hips and looks at you. "No shit," He says, truly surprised and impressed that you could tell. A lot of the games tend to look like this, and he would never notice a repeat arena down to the rivers if it punched him in the face. Your 'secret weapon' is already paying off. "And you could tell that right away?"

"Yeah, I mean, I guess so. The bags were all the same, everything was laid out the same. I bet there's a river down south." You nod, having a sudden realization. "We should get to that cave- the one the tributes from Twelve holed up in last year. That'll be a good, stable shelter. We can pretty much wait it out." You say, starting to walk in what you believe is the right direction.

"No," Rafe replies, making you stop in your tracks. "Unless you want me to have to kill you in the end."

"Oh, right." You forgot about that part, keeping score. "We're still going to need somewhere to sleep, though."

"Yeah, we'll find it anyways." Rafe nods, carrying on in the direction you started heading. You follow a few steps behind, keeping a bit of distance in the somewhat awkward silence that fell over you two after his comment about having to kill you.

You walk in the thick of the woods for about an hour before you feel like you're reaching the river. You can feel it under your feet, the soil is slightly softer, and the trees a little more green.

Cannons interrupt your thoughts a few times in the hike, totaling up to twenty-three by the time you reach the riverbank. "You were right." Rafe chuckles, mentally disparaging any skepticism he faced during the long, quiet walk.

"Thank god." You giggle, dropping your bag and crouching down to dig through it, hoping for a water bottle. You were right, everything you expected was accounted for.

"Why that bag?" Rafe says, already sitting down on the rocky water's edge to rest for a moment.

"Huh?" You question, unsure you heard over the shuffling of the bag while you zip it up.

"You pointed to it, during the countdown. Why did you want that one?"

"Oh, uh, like I said they all looked the same as last year, and I hoped I remembered what was inside." You say, laying down to reach into the water and fill up the bottle.

"Were you right?"

You nod with a small smile, sitting back up and holding the bottle out to him as you cross your legs.

"That's actually insane." Rafe shakes his head in disbelief as he takes it, downing just about everything in it before handing it back.

You take it and refill it again for yourself. "I'll choose to take that as a compliment."

Rafe wouldn't admit it, but at this moment as he's watching you drink, he's grateful that he got paired up with you. But now, that it's been shown on national television that you know the arena in and out, he wonders what obstacles the gamemakers will desperately throw your way.

"We should keep moving. I feel like a sitting duck out here in the open, I don't like it." Rafe mutters, checking his attitude as he stands up. You're quick to fill up the bottle again, following behind him yet again as the arrows in his quiver rattle together against his back walking over the rocky and unstable terrain, knife gripped tightly in his hand.

You wonder to yourself how he's feeling about leaving behind his predestined alliance of the career pack, but with the factor of most of them being paired up with other districts, it was already too unpredictable. You wouldn't have stuck around either.

The sun started to set as you followed the river upstream. You didn't want to settle without some kind of shelter, and you were committed to finding that cave before you could relax. You could tell that Rafe had the same idea, his steps ahead of you gradually picking up speed with the bow still gripped firmly in his palm.

"It's a beautiful sunset." You speak your mind before thinking, desperately wanting to fill the silence.

Rafe just hums in response, looking up only briefly before training his gaze once again on the ragged rocks at his feet and continuing on. "What's it like in District One?" You ask.

"Fine." He replies coldly. You aren't sure what you expected, but this response was pretty on par. You knew you had almost no chance of survival, so it would at least be nice to get to know the person you spend your final days with, even if he would be the one to kill you in the end.

"I've never been, but I've heard it's... nice." You've only ever heard about it from the perspective of other bitter individuals from Five, jealous of the cushy lifestyle everyone knew they must have lived.

"Yeah." Rafe agrees, clearly not wanting to discuss it.

"What are your sister's names?" You ask, deciding to push a little bit. It's not like he can kill you just yet.

Rafe sighs, but answers anyways. "Wheezie and Sarah."

You're shocked that he answered at all, but you could tell in his interview that he has a soft spot for them. "Cute." You nod, smiling to yourself. "Is Wheezie a nickname?"

"Yep, it's short for Louise."

"That's adorable." You grin, shaking your head.

"Hey, look. There." Rafe says, changing the subject and pointing down the rocks, where there's a small opening under a ledge.

"That's it!" You exclaim, deciding to drop the topic of his sisters in favour for finding your shelter for the night. You rush past him, watching your step as you climb down into the small cave.

Rafe quickly draws his bow, slowing down and peaking into the cave and bracing himself for your screams. How could you be so careless in a game like this? He doesn't understand your lightheartedness, your somewhat positive attitude, and your ability to make small talk despite the circumstances. "Hey, careful!"

"It's perfect!" You call back out as you look around, and Rafe steps down carefully, looking around more carefully than you had. He relaxes once he's satisfied that there's nothing down there waiting to kill you.

"Nice, okay." Rafe nods to himself, and you both get to work making a small fire near the entrance, hidden from view.

You take off your jacket and roll it up, using it as a makeshift pillow as you lay next to the fire, staring at the orange flicker of the flames you made.

Rafe is sitting across from you, knees tucked up to his chest as he does just the same. His mind is absolutely reeling- he needs to find something to eat, and soon. That will be the first thing you'll do in the morning, he'll have to employ your help to find something edible. "How are you with making traps?" He asks.

"I can do it." You reply, sitting up and leaning on your elbow so you can see him. "I'll set some up in the morning."

Rafe nods a little bit. He already knew you could, of course, but he's wondering about the logistics of how they work. "So like... hypothetically, would they work the same if you made them bigger?"

"Like... human-sized?" You ask, catching on to what he's suggesting. It's not ethical- but nothing about this game is. For you, this would definitely be preferable to fighting other kids to death over and over again.

Rafe nods, adjusting how he was sitting and crossing his legs.

"Yeah. I can't see why not." You answer. "It would be harder since I've never done it, but I think it could work."

"Then I say we try it."

The next day, you wake up as the sun rises and the light beats down on you from the entrance of the cave. You didn't sleep comfortably, that's for sure, waking up twice throughout the night to the sound of the cannon. That's twenty-seven. You wonder how many teams have already reached their ten-kill quota, you imagine someone in the career pack already has. Both times when you were startled awake, Rafe was standing at the cave entrance, bow drawn as he squinted into the darkness, hoping that whoever was out hunting other tributes wasn't nearby.

You sit up slowly, stretching out your tired limbs as you look over to see Rafe, fast asleep with a blade in his hand. You should let him sleep, and get to work on finding something to eat, and making some traps.

You grab one of the knives Rafe somehow collected from the bag laying next to him as quietly as possible, sneaking outside and taking in your surroundings. The sound of the river flowing and the smell of morning dew was amazing- you wish you could truly enjoy it in different circumstances.

You quickly get to work tracking down something to eat, landing on a few different plants you know to be edible. You're trekking through the woods near your cave when you come across an apple tree- making you pause as you look it over. It looks out of place- and maybe no one got close enough to it in the games last time that you wouldn't have seen it, but that seems unlikely. It must be new; it makes for the perfect place to try and set up a trap for the next hungry tribute who would be unfortunate enough to wander too close to your hideout.

You're digging a hole in the ground with your hands, avoiding the roots of the tree and sticking in some sticks you sharpened when you hear a twig snap behind you. You freeze, hoping that by some miracle, it's just an animal. You slowly turn your head to try and look, picking up the knife from the ground next to you and holding it tight.

"Just me." Rafe's voice relaxes you, and you stand up, brushing off your knees.

"You scared me." You admit as he takes to looking down into the hole you just dug.

"That looks... awful." He chuckles, patting your shoulder. "It won't kill, but it'll slow someone down enough that I can finish the job."

You nod slightly, staring into the dirt as well. You hated the idea that you were crafting something intentionally to bring harm to another person, but realistically you have no choice. "We'll set up more, along the riverbed and closer to the career pack. We can't monitor them all at once, though- can you make more fatal ones next time?" Rafe asks, pointing back towards the river to accentuate his point.

"That depends, how many arrows can you spare?"

The next few days saw the death toll rise to thirty-six. You kept track every night, scratching their numbers and names into the walls of the cave despite being able to remember anyway. You viewed it as a small memorial, Rafe saw it as a timer ticking down to when he'd have to kill you.

Your first trap had worked on one person, their screams of pain from a cut-up leg summoning your teammate back to the apple tree. He insisted you stay behind as he finished what you started. You had to reset several other traps as well, closer to the cornucopia.

Rafe would never admit it, but he was really starting to like you. He didn't want to hurt you- he was worried the traps wouldn't do enough. The passive approach you so preferred wasn't what he expected, and he knew his dad would be disappointed in him. But Ward would never understand.

He sighed as he poked at the fire with a stick, leaning his head back against the rocky wall of the cave, another cold night ahead of you.

You had your head laid on his lap, his thigh replacing the thin material of your coat that you had been using the last few days.

"How old are your sisters?" You ask out of nowhere, prompting him to look down at you. He had thought you fell asleep a while ago.

"Why does it matter?" Rafe replies, and you just shrug a little bit.

"Gives us something to talk about."

"Fifteen and Eleven." He relents.

"Hey, me too." You smile a little to yourself.

"You have sisters?" Rafe asks. He never asked much about you- he didn't really want to know, in the case he had to kill you.

"Yep. And a brother." You nod, sitting up a little bit. "He's older though, he aged out last year."

Rafe finds himself clenching his jaw. He can't hear that- to see you as a little sister. He doesn't want to imagine what it would be like to see his sisters face the same fate. "Lucky guy." He says quietly.

"Why? I thought it was a privilege, and all that." You chuckle.

"Well, yeah, but not for most. For the outlying districts like you."

"At least you get it." You agree. "How does it feel? Now that you're here, I mean."

"Scary." Rafe admits, throwing caution to the wind now with what his father will think. "Not what everyone tells you it'll be like."

"Is that because of me?" You ask after a few moments, and he nods slightly.

"Not in a bad way, though. It's just different. I expected to be on my own, to die alone, or kill my allies if I had to. Now... I don't know that I have to. Or if I even could." He can practically hear his father shouting at their large screen at home, or storming out claiming he was an embarrassment. He was told his whole life to never show weakness, to 'be a man', but now, at the end, that doesn't matter to him.

"I won't take it personally." You giggle softly, voice shaking as you try to make light of it. "My family won't either, I don't think. Maybe my dad, at first, but eventually he'll understand. They'll forgive you." You try and ease his mind, knowing that in the case that Rafe does win without you, he'll have to face your family in the next month or so during the victory tour.

"I wouldn't ever expect him to." Rafe tells you, tossing his stick into the flames now. He feels sick hearing you talk about it like it's inevitable- but if he has anything to do with it, you'll be coming home with him.

"They're good people." You assure him.

"Don't say that." Rafe chuckles, shaking his head. "I would never forgive myself."

"Okay, fine. They're awful. Just... the worst." You smile, looking up at him and resting your chin in your hand.

"That's better. Thank you." Rafe laughs, poking your forehead and gazing out onto the river as the flames illuminate the water.

In the morning, you're awoken to something brushing your leg. You groan and roll over, head landing once more on Rafe's extended arm underneath you. At least he was finally getting some sleep, pretty much unable to close his eyes since you set foot in the arena. You feel the brush again, followed by something moving on your arm, several things, suddenly, and your eyes fly open and look down when you remember where you are. You let out a scream, scrambling to sit up and pushing yourself back against the wall.

Rafe wakes up quickly, scrambling for the bow next to him when he realizes it won't be any help. You're surrounded by and quickly almost covered in a sickening combination of snakes and spiders.

You're still screaming, trying to shove the creatures off of you. "Come on- come on!" Rafe is yelling at you, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the exit. You don't get the chance to grab your back and you regret that as you're jumping into the river in attempt to get the spiders off of your skin and out of your clothes.

You're breathing heavily as you come up for air, and Rafe is quickly there, brushing his hands over your hair to make sure every last spider is gone. He looks back at the entrance of the cave, chest heaving like yours as the bugs and snakes spill out of it. It sends a shiver down his spine- he was never a fan of snakes.

"I guess that's the gamemakers telling us enough was enough." He sighs, gently pulling you towards the shore again a safe distance away. "Are you bit?" He asks once you're a safe distance away.

"I don't think so..." You reply, hiking up the ankles of your pants to look at your calves and over your bare arms as you sit on the shore. "You?"

Rafe shakes his head, doing the same. "It was probably just a warning. We have to move." He quickly lowers his pant leg over the puncture wounds in his leg, hoping you didn't see. If it gets worse, he'll tell you. The bite itself didn't hurt much, so if it's going to be fatal, he's glad he won't have to hurt you.

Rafe helps you up, leading you up towards the tree line. "They probably want to push us in toward the other tributes, I think we should go with it before they throw something worse at us." You, the two of you now left with nothing but what you had on you, along with Rafe's bow and a few spare arrows.

He nods. "It's our best move anyways. How many tributes are left?"

"Twelve including us." You answer quickly. "There's Avril, a boy from six, Maisie, she's from my district, most of the careers I think are still in it but not their teammates," You begin to rattle off the list,

"I don't want to know names." Rafe cuts you off, and you understand why. He's been doing all the dirty work, and part of you knows it's because he's hoping to have time to learn names and feel guilty about it later. Right now, he can't afford to see them as human.

"Right." You agree. "It doesn't really matter, anyways."

"Do you know scores?" He asks, walking alongside you now.

You nod, beginning to list off all the remaining tributes and their scores, from lowest to highest. The lowest being you- and the highest being ten, shared by Rafe and a boy from district two.

After hearing two more cannons that day, and checking all the traps you had set, you're circling back to the river to be near fresh water before you set up camp again. You don't have your water bottle anymore, or anything to set up any kind of shelter with, you do your best. You set up a fire, Rafe insisting that if it draws other tributes to you so be it- he's ready for this to end just as much as you, but you don't want to rush into your death or an ambush. It's safe to say you won't be sleeping tonight.

You didn't sleep, but at least, curled up under a tree, the night sky was beautiful. The stars seemed realistic, and you wondered if somehow they were real. Between the two more cannons that struck overnight, you still wondered if you were somewhere near the ocean, or somewhere closer to home. While you're sitting next to each other in a peaceful silence, both admiring the vastness of the night sky, you hear a ringing sound coming from above.

Rafe quickly stands, reaching for the small silver pack with a parachute before it hits the ground. He's quick to open it as you stand up, looking into the container. You grab the small card, tilting it into the light of your fire to read it.

For our Y/N,

Keep fighting. Please come home to us.

Love You Always, Dad

Tears form in your eyes almost instantly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. "It's just a water bottle and some kind of granola bars... or something." Rafe says, turning the water bottle over in his hand.

He looks up at you, frowning when he sees how upset you look. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." You quickly shake your head, wiping your eyes. "Uhm, it's from my dad."

The fact that your family could spare enough money to send you something in the games at all was amazing to you. You heard horror stories of the astronomical prices of trying to send something from outside of the capitol, without the status and funds of a sponsor.

"Oh." Rafe replies, handing you the tin and bottle now, taking the card from you gently. He reads it over slowly, and over and over again. His family had seemingly endless amounts of money, and they had sent him nothing. He knew his father viewed it as cheating, and that you shouldn't need any kind of help to win. If he loved him, though, that wouldn't matter. He should be willing to do anything he could to keep his son alive. The way your parents did.

"My mom made these." You sniffle, grabbing a small bar from the container in her hand. "They're my favourite, she only makes them on birthdays or special occasions." You explain.

"That's... that's really nice." Rafe says, putting the card back in the tin. He doesn't know how to handle this, or what to say.

You smile sadly as you sit back down against the tree, placing the tin on your lap as Rafe joins you. "Here." You hold the bar out to him.

"They're for you." Rafe shakes his head, pushing it away.

"They're for us." You insist, holding it out to him again. "They wouldn't have sent two if I wasn't meant to share."

"Thank you." Rafe smiles genuinely, for the first time in weeks as he takes it. He's starving, having eaten only small amounts of meat and plants over the last week or so, so he's quick to take a bite. It's sweet, more so than he expected. He never thought he could enjoy sugar this much.

"No wonder they're reserved for celebrations, hey?" You giggle, having intently watched his reaction.

Rafe nods. "Yeah, it's really good. Super sweet." He says, mouth still full. You grin, satisfied as you take a bite of your own.

The night flew by so quickly, you're feeling as though it must have gotten shorter. The sunrise went by fast too. You're guessing the gamemakers and the viewers were getting antsy. To be honest, you were as well.

Renewed with your energy the sugary baking your parents had sent, you set about gathering food and water, while Rafe goes on to check a few of your traps to see if they needed to be reset. He could do it on his own, but he liked watching you do it, working the ropes between your fingers and tying intricate knots, pulling back on the stick used to trigger the arrow. By the afternoon, having taken a mental note of the amount of cannons that had fired. It was a few, at least. You must be getting down to the end. He prayed it wasn't you, but the cries of some kind of mutts in the distance right before the cannons lead him to believe that you were fine- but he should be getting back soon anyways.

You were wandering down to the water, reluctant to leave your camp, but you knew water was a priority. You were just filling up the new bottle when you heard a scream. It sounded like a boy. You quickly look back over your shoulder, noticing it was nearby. Toward the apple tree. You stand slowly, looking around as you attach the water bottle back to your side with a carabiner, reaching instead for the knife Rafe had left with you. God, you hoped it wasn't him. The absence of a cannon gives you hope, though.

You quietly head in that direction, watching your step so your presence isn't detected. When you get closer to the tree, you hear crying. Painful crying, as you're faced with the reality of the trap you set.

You watch from behind a tree as the boy from eight tries to pull his leg up from the ground, screaming out again as the sharp sticks dig into his flesh. You should go get Rafe- you feel guilty, but you can't kill him yourself. You turn quickly, and before you can get a step away you're face to face with one of the other careers- a sword held up against your neck.

"Don't move." Blake says, a smile that can only be described as evil spreading over his lips.

You try and scream out for help, hoping Rafe was still in earshot but a hand is quickly covering your mouth. "Not yet." He whispers, shaking his head. "We've got a plan, it'll be fun. You wouldn't want to ruin that, right?"

As Rafe gets back to your small camp, he expects to see you there waiting. He scans the trees above him, wondering if you had climbed up for some reason. He calls your name when he doesn't see you, brow furrowed. You definitely should be back by now. As he's heading down to the water to look for you, he hears a cannon, which at this point wouldn't bother him- if it wasn't for the scream that followed after. It was you. No doubt in his mind that it was you. With his bow drawn, he's moving quickly towards where he heard your voice, throwing caution to the wind.

You scream again, crying as the tip of the sword is dug into your shoulder, laying down next to the apple tree. You can't help it- but you don't want their trap to work. You don't want Rafe to come, so you bite your tongue until you taste blood, hoping to keep quiet. "It'll only get worse for you if you don't scream, Y/N/N." Blake scolds you, digging in the blade more. "He has to hear you." He adds through gritted teeth.

You hear a twig snap just outside the small clearing, and Blake is quickly turning to look with the sword still pinning you to the ground. "Rafe it's a trap!" You shout, hoping that it's him.

Rafe steps out then, into full view with his bow drawn as he aims at the boy in front of him. When they first met, he knew they would have been good friends if they met anywhere else. "You won't shoot me." Blake chuckles, and Rafe quickly readjusts his grip.

"I will." Rafe says sternly, pulling the string tighter as Blake moves the sword to hover over your chest. Over your heart.

"If you shoot, the last of my energy will go into killing her. I don't think you want that." He shakes his head, smiling smugly.

"I don't care." Rafe says, making your heart clench. You know that you're friends, at the very least. He does care. He's bluffing- you have to believe that.

"If you didn't care you would have shot me already." Blake calls it, and Rafe tenses up, looking down at you only briefly.

"Then what do you want?" Rafe spits.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted you to watch." Blake shrugs. "Just makes it a little more fun, you know? But don't worry, you'll be next." You know he just wants to prove himself, somehow, not having scored as high as Rafe did. You wonder if his family was somehow similar- that he needed some kind of approval that he thought he might find through sadism.

Rafe looks down at you again, and you just nod, tears streaming down your temples to your ears. He quickly readjusts before letting the arrow fly, planting straight in the shoulder that held the sword as you quickly roll over, slicing across your chest and shoulder in the process. It was well worth it.

Rafe fires another arrow into his chest, not taking any risks and the cannon quickly follows as he rushes to your side.

"Are you okay?" He's asking, hands hovering above you as he's kneeled next to you, unsure what to do.

You nod, still biting into your tongue as blood continues to slide down your skin, dampening your now torn up clothes.

"It's not that bad." Rafe says, looking over the cuts as best he can, but you wince when he pulls the fabric away. "You're gonna be fine, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah..." You mumble, letting your head fall back against the brush below you. Rafe is quick to take his coat off, using it to push down on the deepest part of the wound on your shoulder, trying with his other hand to apply pressure to the rest of it. You try and focus on your breathing, rather than the pain, but it's hard when a significant amount of weight is being applied to your shoulder and chest.

"I'm sorry, I have to." Rafe tells you, jaw tense as he lifts his coat to check whether or not the bleeding has slowed. You didn't even realize you were crying.

After a few minutes, he's lessened the pressure a bit, still holding the fabric firmly over your skin. "You could have ran." You mumble, voice hardly above a whisper.

"I wasn't gonna leave you." Rafe shakes his head, gently peeling away his now blood soaked windbreaker.

"You at least shouldn't have saved me. Not much point in that, is there?" You smile softly, trying to sit up and Rafe is quick to help.

"There is. You have to win." He mutters.

"I'm not winning, Rafe." You smile sadly at him. "Infection will kill me if you won't, and if no one else does first."

"No, they'll fix you up. This cut will be gone in a week, the technology they have is-"

"Rafe." You grab his attention again and he looks up to meet your eyes. They seemed to suck in all the light of the sunset above the two of you, reflecting back at him in a way that makes his breath hitch. The thought is cut short, however, when you say something that breaks his heart. "Don't give me hope like that."

"Why? You're gonna go home. I mean it." He promises. "I'll make sure of it."

"I don't think we have enough." You remind him sadly, a small smile still evident on your lips as you reach up to cup his cheek in your palm. "I never expected to go home. I'm okay with that."

Your friend shakes his head softly. "That doesn't matter. You have your family to get home to, I read that note from your dad. They need you, I can see that. For me, these games are all I was raised for. I have nothing left for me after this." He admits, avoiding eye contact with you.  "I could never forgive myself if I didn't get you home."

Tears are forming in your eyes again as you look up at him. The world is watching, and in this moment of vulnerability you feel that more than ever- despite the quiet sounds around you being only the rushing water in the nearby river and the birds chirping around you. "You're a good person, Rafe." You smile at him, watching as he gently raises his hand to yours, grabbing it in his own. "I hope you know that."

In this moment, you settle on the idea that you would die for him. You never understood last years tributes, honestly, how they were willing to die for each other instead of getting home to their own loved ones, but now you do. Completely.

Without a second thought, you find yourself leaning closer, Rafe doing the same as he kneels next to you in the dark. Your eyes meet once more, lips only an inch from touching when you hear a howl in the distance, and you snap your head to the direction it came from. "The Mutts... Already?" You say, scrambling to get up and ignoring the pain in your shoulder.

"I- I heard them earlier, they sound far away." Rafe says, trying to calm you.

"You heard them? You didn't tell me?" You ask, frantically grabbing his bow from the ground and handing it to him as he goes to pull the discarded arrows out of Blake's body.

"I didn't think it mattered!" He defends, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

"There were four left last year when they sent them out. I think... yeah I think that's right. There's four of us. We have to run." You say in a panic, pulling on his hand. "Our best bet is making it back to the cornucopia."

"It'll be too open- can't we climb a tree or something?" Rafe says, following after you as you're running through the bush now in the direction of the open field.

"I don't know if that will work, but I know we'll be safe there." You explain like it's obvious. "We have to risk it- and if you can get to the others first, if they have the same idea, we'll be at ten."

You're out of breath already, adrenaline pushing you through as you hear scattered barking getting steadily closer after one more cannon. Part of you wants to stop, turn, and force Rafe to take the win if you couldn't have it, but with any hope left, you have to try and get back to where this started. The traps was an unfortunate choice in how you got your kills, because you couldn't keep track of how many since by the time you got around to checking them, the body's would have been airlifted off if it wasn't a misfire. If you had to guess, though, you were sitting at eight.

Rafe is running similar calculations in his head as he lets you lead him by memory straight to the field, mind short-circuiting as he sees the silver moonlight reflect off the cornucopia.

You sprint across the open field, blood pouring from your undressed wound again with the intense exertion of energy. Rafe doesn't pass you, though, despite you expecting that he would. You have tunnel vision as you make it to the metal structure, practically slamming into it before you can even stop. Rafe is quick to lift you and shove you up, both of you looking over your shoulders as you struggle to hold onto the edge, kicking the sides to hold yourself up.

You finally get up, reaching down to help pull Rafe up. He grabs onto your arm for leverage, mostly pulling himself up and you wince as you feel the tension from his weight in your cuts.

You flop down onto your back on the cold surface as he climbs over you, immediately standing up with bow drawn as he intently scans the surrounding area. He's only got the two arrows left, which makes him nervous if that's all he has to defend the both of you with.

You try to settle your breathing, which only lasts for a moment until the sky lights up with the recap. You miss your cave, where you could contribute to your memorial, especially seeing the face of Maisie flash above you on the sky while the anthem plays.

You close your eyes, just listening to the music now until you hear barking just outside of where Rafe can see, and you're quickly sitting up. He draws the bow tighter, aiming in the direction the howls came from just as someone pushes out into the clearing. Rafe is aimed straight at them, bow string pressed to his cheek. He's getting dizzy, and quickly. His aim can't fail him now, he doesn't have that option.

You watch them, in the dark you think it's the other boy from district one, and in your exhaustion you can't remember his name. You wouldn't dare say it, anyways. He's screaming for help, a call you know you can't answer, and you watch as they stumble on their feet, shoes and hands digging into the ground as they try to get up, just ten or so yards from you by now.

Rafe wants to shoot just then, it would be as simple as letting his finger loose and the arrow would fly towards its target. It would be a merciful end for the boy he's trained with for years now, only a couple years younger than him. The muscle in his jaw is aching from the tension he's put on it when he forces himself to let go. He has to do it, for himself, if he wants to go home.

He misses. The yelp of one of the mutts tells you it landed in a paw or back, and you look up at Rafe who's already drawn his second. "Rafe!" You cry out, pushing yourself up onto your feet and standing behind him now.

He hates to admit that your empathy has rubbed off on him. Watching you every night carving seemingly endless names and numbers into the rocks that lined the space you stepped in. He recalls waking up one morning and seeing your name and his carved in as well, closer to where he laid by the fire, his underlined and yours with a heart at the end. Like a signature on the top of a math test. He had wondered if you always wrote your name like that, and in this moment as he releases the bow again, he knows he has to find out for himself.

It happened so fast, the mutts knocking down the boy and the arrow flying from Rafe's shaky hands into where he should have been right as the cannon sounds. You don't know that it was Rafe's arrow that did him in.

"No..." You mumble, clamouring forward and onto your knees again to look over as the boys body is torn apart by the mutts. "You had to have done it. You had to." You say, trying to get a better view.

In a second, Rafe's arms are around you and he's pulling you back from the edge, sitting now behind you with his arms wrapped tightly over your body. "It's okay.. it's over." He mumbles, kissing the side of your head as the sunlight comes over the trees. He's fighting off the urge to vomit, everything spinning around him now.

You sit with him, gripping onto his arms and crying. Nothing is happening, so you must not have made it to ten. You feel sick- your heart is in your throat and suddenly you're really hot, moving away from him to look over the edge again, this time incase you have to throw up. You freeze, looking over to where the boy's body once was. The second arrow was in the ground. He missed again.

Rafe sees it at the same time as you. He sighs, hanging his legs over the edge. "Shit... Y/N, I'm sorry." He mumbles, gently reaching over to rub your back.

"No, no. It's okay." You insist, sitting up next to him. "I knew this would happen."

"I'll get you home." Rafe says, sliding down the side of the cornucopia before you can stop him. He stumbles the landing, swaying in his walk as he heads towards the arrow lodged into the dirt.

"Wait! Wait, wait, Rafe!" You're sliding down after him, running to his side and grabbing his arm before he can get to the arrow in the ground.

He turns to you quickly, hand on your cheek and he's pressing his lips to your forehead. "Sit with me?" He asks, knees already giving out as he falls to the ground.

You're instantly on the ground beside him, practically holding his head up with your free hand as you search him visually for some kind of injury.  "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Uh, I guess so." Rafe mutters. "Snake bite. I think."

"You didn't tell me? I could have fixed this, I could have helped..." You ramble on, his eyes dropping shut now. "Hey, eyes open."

"It's okay. Just sit with me..." He says again, smiling weakly. "Wait with me... please?"

You nod, sniffling as you fight back the tears that want to fall. "Yeah, of course. I'll stay."

Before he closes his eyes, the music starts again and your eyes are drawn up to the sky after you notice Rafe is looking first.

Then, begins a similar slideshow of faces you recognize. Ten in total. Rafe's eyes flicker with slight recollection, remembering any kills he made himself and you gasp when you see Jack. Whatever damage you had done when he tackled you on the first day must have killed him. "Rafe.." You mumble, lowering your eyes to meet his. "I think we won."

Your point is accentuated by the voice of the head gamemaker over some unseen speakers. "Introducing the Victors of the Seventy-Fifth Annual Hunger Games!"

"We did it." Rafe laughs weakly, squeezing your hand.

You fully ignore the aircraft hovering down in front of you on the grass, turning your head to look down at him. You don't say anything, neither of you do, and you finally feel your lips against his. The kiss is bad, it doesn't really work when both of you are stuck smiling ear to ear, but you don't care one bit. The only thing that matters is that you got this chance at all.

Rafe pulls away from you slowly, using all the strength he has left to lift himself onto his feet as you steady him. "He needs help!" You shout to them, and you're quickly being lead onto the plane.

"They've got really good technology," You mock what he said to you just the day before. "It'll be like it never happened in a week, okay?" You chuckle, feeling waves of happiness, worry, and relief all at once as you quickly wipe away a tear with your free hand, other arm wrapped tightly around Rafe's waist to hold him up.

He laughs, and you lean into him more, your forehead against his shoulder as the aircraft door slides shut behind you.

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#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe fic #outer banks #obx #obx fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x you #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine

[norrizzandpia]

The Youngest Love (Chapter One of What We Could’ve Been and What We Are Now) (LN4)

Summary: A backstory to a love story.

Warnings: none, fluff

Note: this one is not that eventful bc I didn’t want to leave yall on a major cliffhanger or anything like that seeing as i am entering into my official finals week and definitely will not have time to post updates for this or anything else i hope you like it tho! And will stick around for the next chapters 🫶🏻

Series Links: Masterlist, Chapter Links, and the Playlist

“Oh, hey! I got the job!” Jon smiles from across the dinner table, his sparkling eyes meeting his wife’s and daughter’s. One hand holds his phone while the other still clutches his fork, his food getting colder by the second as he stares at the bright screen.

Amy, his wife, lets her eyebrows cinch together, “You mean the one with the Formula 3 kid?”

Jon nods, “Yeah, exactly! He’s 16, I think? Right around your age, Y/n.”

His daughter, Y/n, smiles with a closed mouth, her broccoli still being chewed on.

There’s a silence as Jon types out a message in response, his teeth shining under the low light of the kitchen while he grins at his new opportunity. There’s few things in the world that truly warm Y/n’s heart, her dad truly happy is one of them.

Amy applauds softly, a giggle emitting from her as she looks between her family, “When do you start?”

Jon draws out an ominous sound as his eyes squint to read his phone carefully, “Oh? Tomorrow, I guess.”

Amy stops chewing, “But, you said you’d take Y/n to the library tomorrow. Remember? She needs that textbook for her upcoming term.”

Jon’s mouth falls open and he nods in recognition, “Oh, sorry! Is it okay if she comes along? The library is on the way to the facility where I'll be training and really getting to know the boy. We can grab her book and then she can hang out while I’m working with him.”

Amy looks at her daughter, “You okay with that, Y/n?”

Y/n lets her head float to each side as she thinks it through, “No other alternative?”

Jon shakes his head, Amy shrugs her shoulders.

Huffing, Y/n agrees, “What’s his name?”

Jon smiles, “Lando.”

🏎️

Y/n inspects her new textbook as Jon leads her through the doors of the building. There’s loud commotion and chatter from every corner, but she’s so engrossed in trying to fix the tear in the back of her used book, that she’s not aware of any of it.

Jon mumbles to the reception, a conversation flourishing between them as he tries to sort out where he’s supposed to go. Still, Y/n smoothies down the flap that has ruined the state of her book. There’s a deep frown on her face as her dad begins to walk away, her footsteps falling in rhythm behind him.

When they enter the room, she’s lost hope for the cut and her eyes are finally returning to what’s in front of her.

Her dad speaks cordially with an older man toward the end of the room, leaving her in the presence of the boy her dad had mentioned the night before.

“You’re Lando, right?” She says softly, not truly comfortable being the one to speak first.

Lando smiles, “Yeah. What’s your name?”

She mimics his face, “Y/n. I’m Jon’s daughter.”

He nods, “Cool. Will you be around for the rest of the session today?”

“Yeah, I don’t have a ride anywhere else.” She chuckles, Lando joining her.

When their laughter dies down, Lando extends his hand in front of himself and speaks, “It’s nice to meet you, Jon’s daughter.”

She shakes his hand, “Nice to meet you, as well, my dad’s new client.”

🏎️

“Can I come along too?” Y/n pleads as Jon stands at the front door.

He frowns at her, “Y/n, the last times you came, you and Lando wouldn’t stop laughing. It distracts him. It stops the work we need to do to get him prepared for the season.”

His daughter groans obnoxiously, “Dad! I promise, it won’t happen this time.”

He squints at her, “You said that last time.”

She shakes her head, “Please?”

This time, it’s Jon who’s groaning, “Fine.”

🏎️

TWO YEARS LATER

“Yeah, and I never stopped coming after that. My dad stopped trying to fight it, I guess.” Y/n laughs into Lando’s side, her head bumping into his shoulder.

Lando smiles down at her, “I know! He just accepted it. I mean, it wasn’t like you were the only one trying to get him to bring you back to our sessions.”

Y/n’s head shoots up, tilting in confusion, “What do you mean? You were too?”

Lando nods eagerly, “Yeah, of course! I kept texting him asking if you were coming that day.”

“Yeah, it was annoying.” Jon’s voice cuts through the two’s incessant giggling. Their faces staring at him as he walks over to Lando and grabs hold of his sweatshirt sleeve.

Jon smiles down at them with pursed lips, “And look at you now, my lovely daughter! Still distracting him from his training! Making my life harder!”

Y/n smacks her dad’s arm as he pulls Lando from his chair, “Dad! Rude!”

He chuckles, placing a kiss on her forehead, “You know, I joke.”

Her cheeks warm at him, “I know.”

“But, for now!” He yelps, startling the two teens with his volume, “Let me train Lando. Stay here.”

Lando scoffs, “She makes it so much more fun, though! Jon, you are a buzzkill.”

Jon perseveres, pulling Lando out of the room, “Thank me when you’re a World Champion.”

Lando, just before his body disappears from the door, yells out to his best friend, “Meet me after! For Lunch, Y/n! You know where!”

She shakes her head as he is dragged out. She laughs as she hears his yelps to Jon down the hall, apparently her father was being too rough with him.

Lunch would be interesting.

🏎️

Lando’s head pulls to the side as Jon pulls the strap attached to Lando’s head towards himself.

“When are you going to ask my daughter out?” Jon says, quickly, a knowing smirk on his face as Lando’s eyes fall open and he leaps from his seat.

“Woah!” Lando looks manically at Jon, his mouth opening and closing at the question.

Jon takes the strap off Lando’s head, scoffing and thrashing his arms at his side, “Lando, we’ve had this conversation multiple times. Don’t act surprised.”

Lando huffs and brings his arms to cross in front of him, “Not multiple times.”

Jon slowly turns around, looking at him blankly, “Yes, we have. Don’t lie. We’ve been having this conversation ever since I started training you.”

The boy rolls his eyes and groans, “Get off my back.”

“Lando, you’ve had a crush on my daughter ever since she greeted you the first day we met. Be honest here. How much longer are you going to wait?” Jon sits down on a machine nearby. His face has hardened and he looks on at Lando with a serious expression, one that both scares and pushes Lando to do what he’s wanted to do for years.

He mirrors Jon’s stance, relaxing into a seated position as he tries to sort his thoughts, “I didn’t think I ever would.”

Jon throws his hands in the air, “Well, that won’t ever do.”

A silence overcomes them, Lando wondering when he’s supposed to put his friendship in jeopardy, when Jon’s face lights up, “The lunch! You guys are going to lunch after this, right? Ask her then.”

Lando shakes his head, “Are you crazy?! That’s too soon! I need to have time to prepare!”

Jon leans on his knees, “Prepare what? Just ask her the question!”

Lando stutters out his thoughts, “I don’t know, I just want to give her something grand. Do you understand?”

Jon nods, “I do, but I don’t agree. Y/n doesn’t want that. She just wants you to take her out to dinner, Lando. You’re over complicating it.”

Lando takes a deep breath, attempts to clear his mind, and maybe he is over complicating it?

🏎️

His hands shake as he sits down across from Y/n at the table. She’s smiling at him, a sweet grin that has his heart fluttering, when her face falls softly, “Are you okay, Lan?”

He nods aggressively, “Yeah! Yeah! Totally cool!”

She cocks her head and lays her hand over his on the table, adding to the bursting in Lando’s stomach, “What’s going on? You look like you’re going to vomit.”

He shakes his head, a beating finding its home in his brain and he blurts, “Will you go out with me?”

She stares at him for a moment. A moment, a split second, where Lando thinks he’s lost it all, but then she breaks out into the biggest smile he’d ever seen grace her face and begins laughing, “Really? Yes, Lan!”

Air fills his lungs once more and he moves his hand to clutch hers, “Oh, thank God.”

He falls into lovesick giggles with her and the two struggle to get through ordering their food with the way they stare into each other’s eyes.

When their food comes, Y/n looks at him, “Couldn’t this be our date?”

He bites his lip in deep thought before nodding in agreement, “Yeah, actually, that makes a lot of sense.”

She ducks her head, getting closer to Lando and whispers, “Can I tell you something?”

He moves his head just as close, “Always.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that ever since I introduced myself to you.” She smiles, her hand finding his once more and squeezing lightly.

“Can I tell you something?” He says all the same.

She nods and he confides, “Jon’s been nagging at me for years to ask you out. He pushed me over the edge today.”

Y/n rears back, “Jon?! My father?! A matchmaker?!”

Lando nods in astonishment, “I know! Especially with his daughter?! Scandalous!”

Y/n shakes her head as she chuckles before looking back up at Lando and saying, “I’m glad he did.”

Lando smiles at her, “Me too.”

They stare at each other for a moment more, the two growing slightly shy under the new view of their relationship and turning away. His deep green eyes are addicting to Y/n and, by the way he’d pined over her for years, she believes she’s just as addicting to him.

A blush rises to her cheeks.

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #lando norris fic #lando smut #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris x you #landoscar #lando norris edit #lando norris fanfiction #oscar piastri #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #max fewtrell #f1 angst #f1 x you

[sakuraryomen01]

His Unhinged Mind.. /Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Reader/ [Trigger Warning]

#warnings: crazy! gojo . yandere themes . dub/non-consented sex . Stockholm syndrome . kidnapping . emotional and narcissistic manipulation . tied up . ex-gojo x female reader . gojo being toxic . mentions of stalking . soft-to-rough fucking . "a good dicking-down" as punishment . gas lighting . mentions use of medication and drugs/alcohol as a way to cope with anxiety . cliffhanger ending! [OLD DRAFT]

#reader: female reader

#plot: gojo, your ex-fiance, comes to 'collect' you from your appointment with the family therapist and takes you to his home..

#words: 3.186k

#a/n: I was really on the fence about posting this, but I was wanting to write something dark lol. make sure to read the next authors note at the end!! ^^

. . .

Thank you for reading this bit! Enjoy!

You sat in that office, waiting for hours for your therapist to show up. Family was asking for you to go to these appointments after what happened with your fiance: just to make sure you were in a good place.

Everything that happened with him was like water down the drain for you. You didn't care anymore, he was gone. He couldn't find you after you had moved countries, getting an apartment and working a medium-waged job until you were positive that you were safe.

But that feeling of being watched never left you: feeling like there was someone watching you every moment of the day.

A set of eyes watching your every move twenty-four seven, all the time— constantly. You never could shake that feeling, and today your anxiety about it was only worse. The therapist, Naoya Zenin, wasn't answering your calls or texts as you sat and waited in his office.

It was nerve-wrecking, so you got up and left.

Opening the door only to bump into a large chest. You apologized, trying to quickly slide by but the person standing in front of you wouldn't move. Looking up at them, you started to speak when a rag was placed over your mouth and the smell of chloroform filled your nose.

You yelped, trying to not breath in the chemicals until the stranger pulled you into a hug and held the cloth to your face. The strength was familiar, though you couldn't pin where it was from as you slowly fell limb and fainted.

Nothing but black filled your sight as your mind went blank.

It wasn't until a while later that you woke up and you soon realized that you were strewn across a bed— wrists bound at the posts and ankles done with the same at the bottom. Your sight was fuzzy, but you could make out the small room you were trapped in.

You didn't recognize the small space: cold, grey walls with only one window that seemed to let light pour into the room.

There was a table on the opposite side of the room, with a chair to join it and a bookcase that was filled with books (obviously). You didn't know who brought you here, but you were scared.

Terrified, even..

That's when the door that was armed to the teeth with locks clicked and you saw it swing open. The cold steel door creaked open as a very familiar silhouette appeared and made your eyes wide with fear.

It was him. The man you left before your wedding..

Gojo fucking Satoru. Your ex-fiance.

"Oh, good morning, baby," His sweet voice cooed as he strutted into the room with a smile on his face.

Gojo didn't bother closing the door as he pulled himself up an extra chair and sat in it. Making the back face you as he sat in it backwards, spreading his legs and letting them rock from side to side as he resting his head on folded forearms. Your frozen body couldn't react: How in the hell did he find you?

You cleaned everything. Wiped all the data from your last phone, made sure to block him on social media before destroying it and purchasing a new one.

You even made sure that your passport and bank account had no connection with him. There was no possible way for him to know that you moved to the States. So, why and how was he here?

"Such a cute face, sweetie!" Gojo's smile was as bright as you met him during your first date. "I'm so happy I get to see it everyday from now on."

"How.." You started, trying to sit up only to be stopped by your binds. Looking from the ropes to Gojo, you sighed and stared at him in confusion.

"Satoru, how?"

The angel-faced male didn't respond, but instead stayed silent until you asked again. Only then did his smile leave and he looked over his sunglasses at you.

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked, his baby blue eyes shined in the light pouring through the window. "I followed you all the way here."

..You sick, sick man..

"What the fuck?" Your voice was laced anger as you tugged on your restraints again. "You did what?"

"Well, actually, I followed your mother.." Gojo said, ignoring your annoyance. "Such a sweetheart, forgetting to delete her Facebook account was the first thing she did wrong. The second thing was accidentally letting me in the house to 'collect' my things when I was really just copying your new address and phone number."

"You crazy bastard.." You muttered, feeling your heart beat thump in your ears as blood pumped through your body.

Gojo's smile returned at your words, balling up his fist as he rested his cheek against it. "I'm not the crazy one. You are, sweetie."

Scoffing, you sat up and rested against your shoulders. Glaring at your former husband and best friend— seeing that sheer amusement that was on his face when he was in a smug and happy mood. You wanted to slap him so bad, curse at him and spit in his face.

Even if your heart screamed differently..

"I'm not the one that left at the altar on my wedding day," Gojo said, scooting the chair he sat closer to your bed. "I'm not the one that used medication like sleeping pills to forget the day."

You know that feeling of helplessness? That sad and twisted feeling? It was starting to set in, feeling the walls of that small room close in and crush your lungs. Unable to breath as you started to panic.

Satoru, on the other hand, was smiling and explaining how he found you.

"After I managed to get your new location, I simply bought a ticket that next day and got here. Finding your new apartment and job— getting myself one too, of course— and just staking out the joint was easy too."

You pulled at the ropes weakly, pulling with all your might as you began to tear up. It was like the last year was playing through your mind all over again..

"After that, I found your therapist's office," Gojo piped, bringing you back to Earth. "I remember booking Naoya as a family therapist— sucks I had to knock him out in the janitors closet of that fancy office he has now."

You tensed, hearing those words. So that's what happened.. Gojo got to him before I showed up..

Gojo giggled, watching you turn to look up at him and smiled.

"Don't worry, he's just sleeping."

He stood up from the chair he once sat in and took two steps before resting his bottom on the mattress next to you. His angel blue eyes sparkled with glee as he looked down at your horrified face. Reaching up, you could feel the warmth his hand graced your cheek once he began to palm them gently.

Pressing his thumb against your chin and lips as if to prod them to move. To smile again. Anything.

"Sweetie, I don't know why you look so upset," Gojo cooed, letting his hand slide down your side and rub affectionate circles with his thumb against your hip.

"You're finally home again! It's been how long now since you decided to 'leave me', as you put it?"

"..A year and a half."

Gojo gave a surprised laugh, getting more comfortable in his seat and smiling widely. He's too proud of himself.

"See? I think you've had plenty of time to think about ditching me," Gojo said, crossing his legs and resting his elbow against his knee to prop his cheek against it.

"That hurt me for a while, watching you pack and get your things to leave. But I realized quickly that you were joking! You'd never leave me, after everything we've been through, right?"

You could feel your tears beginning to form at the corners of your eyes. Shifting in your spot as Gojo climbed up and pressed his hands on either side of your head, smiling down at you with that handsome grin you've loved for years.

"Your anxiety attacks... those sad episodes... we've been through it all. And knowing you're going away would've been so terrible to me if I knew differently."

You could smell that minty shampoo he used all the time, knowing he'd never change it. Even the glow of his skin was like it always was, despite the obvious eye bags underneath his eyes.

"You can't leave me," Gojo said, his voice lowering as he began to lower himself. His face getting closer and closer to yours as he continued to speak.

"I'm too important to you, Y/n. Even if your brain doesn't want to believe it, your heart still does. I know it does, seeing as you let me take you back home."

Feeling something grip your wrist, you looked up and saw Gojo's large hand firmly gripping your forearm. His fingers just barely grazing the ropes that confined you to the bed, feeling a sudden sense of unease wash over you.

"Do you know how long I've waited to bring you back?"

The feeling grew, looking up at your former lover and seeing that sudden darkness washed over his face. Eyes were wide and boring right into yours, a grin that hasn't broken still written across his face as he gave your wrist a squeeze.

"Months," He finally answered himself, blinking quickly as tears began to form. "I've been waiting so long after I found you, wanting to just steal you away and hold you forever again, but I couldn't. You were too obvious to take away from the outside world."

A chill was sent down your spine, trying to ignore that crawling feeling inside your gut. Desperate to leave and go back home, to where you were safe from him.

Gojo had always been controlling.. manipulative.. scary.

He was so sweet and kind, but always could have a switch flipped if he was triggered. There were times that his possessive nature got so bad that he was restrained at home from following you around to work and your additional work classes. That was actually a week or two before the wedding, when you should've noticed the signs..

"I missed you so much, Y/n.." Gojo's voice lowered just as his head did, his eyes glued to your lips.

That fluttering in your heart made you sick. Hating the fact you still found Gojo attractive even now. It was so hard to resist him, even after the shit that's happened between you both and the dark route Gojo has taken. Feeling that curl in your tummy as Gojo's pink lips pressed against your neck and cheek, warming your skin up as if it wasn't before, and making your body react almost immediately.

"I miss your smell, your looks, your clothes and smile.." Gojo's sickeningly sweet tone made your heart skip beats. His tongue runs over your collarbone as his teeth graze it, working his fingers down your arm and towards your front.

"There was so much that I wanted to do to you, but you were off being an adventurous little kitten. But, I finally managed to take you away and you're staying this time! I'm not taking any chances of you leaving or escaping me! Then again... you wouldn't want to escape.."

Gojo's large palm kneaded your chest, rubbing his thumb over your clothed nipple and kissing down your neck. Managing to open up your clothes and sighed, a smile on his pale face.

"Waa.. I miss these cute tits of yours, baby..~" Gojo bent his head down, kissing one of your erect nipples as you let out a pained whine.

You shouldn't be feeling so good.. You didn't want this..

"Mmn.. God, you still taste amazing up here," Gojo cooed, licking around your rosy nipples and suckling gently. The feeling of his soft tongue against you made you mewl quietly; you shouldn't be feeling this good.

Not from him. Not because of him.

"Haa.. Can't wait to fuck you," He mewled, his cheeks becoming rosy as he sat up on his knees. "It's the least I can do, seeing as you're all defenseless on the bed. Maybe this is why you ran away? To be bound and tied up for me? Oh~ you're so kinky, Y/n.."

In moments, Gojo was taking off your shirt, pants, and your undergarments. Leaving you exposed underneath him and cold. This was so wrong, so embarrassing, so crazy..

So why were you hot and bothered..?

"Oo~ Someone's been getting off to this, huh?" Gojo cooed, his hand dipping to your heat and running a fingertip up your slick opening.

It made you shiver and mewl, biting your lip immediately as if a wave of love and affection was given to you from two years ago. You shouldn't feel so good over a few touches, no matter how sensitive your slick clit was. How it throbbed and twitched under Gojo's fingers while he cooed.

"Aww, it looks like your pussy misses me, hun~!" He smiled, biting his bottom lip and creating a dent.

His fingers traced around your small opening, pushing his fingers inside so suddenly it burned. Your breath hitched in a quiet coo, your cunt squeezing and twitching around Gojo's fingers as they moved faster and faster. His own pants and sighs are audible as you got closer and closer to an unwanted orgasm.

"C'mon, let that orgasm out, baby," Gojo's tone is so weak it sounded like a plea, curling his fingers and rubbing your sensitive walls. Scissoring his fingers and rubbing your clit with his thumb. "So cute. Cum on my fingers, Y/n. Please."

"A-Agh.. nngh!" You cried, your back arching when you didn't want it, cunt squelching in unison with your wanton moans and whimpers, creaming on your ex's long fingers.

With a sigh, your eyes closed tight, your body relaxed as Gojo's fingers were pulled from your soft warmth. His cock already throbbing in his pants, his pink lips shiny as he drooled at the sight of your undone figure.

Why did you need to leave? He had given you a whole life and yet you left on your wedding day!

"God, seeing you like this just reminds me of our first time together," Satoru had started undoing his belt, the clicking of the buckle alerting you and making you look up towards him. "It was so hot and sexy, I swear I never thought that an ass could bounce that much on someone's cock."

"S-Sato.." Your cheeks burned as your ex continued to rant about your first with him, your eyes locked on Gojo's hardening front with a small whimper. "Please, don't do it.. I.."

"Shh, sweetheart," Gojo cooed, lifting your chin up and kissing you sweetly like his used to when he comforted you. The feeling of his plush and warm lips against your own made your pussy squeeze around the air. your eyes lidded as Gojo continued to lick and trace your hips with his fingers.

"I'll make you feel better, ok? So stop the tears and enjoy my dick like you used to."

Gojo's hips bucked against yours, his dripping cock head spilling some of his seed onto your navel. The usual sticky substance is warm and relaxing against your skin. Nerves under the small puddle of it relaxing as your hips were raised up to graze Gojo's cock against your opening. The twitching and pearled up tip rubbing against the flaps of your pussy, nudging as Gojo started to push.

It slipped without a second thought, pushing into your warm walls and practically gushing inside the stretching hole. The man that owned the needy shaft left out a weak whine, holding onto your hips with a gentle squeeze.

"God baby," He mumbled, his eyes fogging as the pleasure he was getting consumed him fully. Looking down at your shaky figure for a response as he snapped his hips and shoved it into you vigorously. "Feels so good, like always!"

You cry at this, clit grinding against Gojo's pubic bone as your toes begin to curl from the force of his thrusts. It was so good having him inside you, feeling the curve of his cock knock your g-spot perfectly and making you melt under his touch despite how much you wanted to kick him and push him away.

It was like a twisted torture you were enduring.

You wanted to run and hide, but stay and get pleasured by Gojo constantly. To feel those soft hugs and kiss his pretty white lashes each morning before he woke up and whine about how you missed his lips. Bickering back and forth about which store to go to or what things to buy when you got there.

All the soft and fluffy stuff that your soul and heart craved from Gojo's touch. Feeling him pressing you into the bed sweetly like he hadn't kidnapped you. Like he was making love to you, groping at your chest with his large hands and pinching your nipples.

Nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder as he picked up his pace, grunting and moaning into your ear while he pleasured himself with your hole.

Sick and twisted, that's the kind of love you felt inside.

"S-Sato, gonna-!!" You cried, arching your back into the restraints and pulling your legs up to fold against you, tugging at the ropes binding them to the bed. "Gonna come! Nghh!"

With a whine your pussy constricted around your kidnapper's cock, shuddering as your orgasm hit you again, almost like a punch in the gut but full of euphoric feelings. Gojo let out an excited mewl, his eyes entranced with your orgasming pussy. Rolling his hips roughly against your swollen pearl, watching it shiver under his touch as he continued to abuse your stretched hole.

"Yeah, baby!" He purred, tracing his thumb over your navel and down to rest above your clit. "C'mon, keep comin' for me. Go on!"

You couldn't hear him over your whines and the rapid beating of your heart, Gojo's words falling on deaf ears as he continued to thrust until he came. The hot and sticky ropes of his come painting your walls and the lips of your pussy.

He let out a sigh at the sight, running his finger up to collect a little of the semen he had spilt.

"Look at that," Gojo cooed, leaning forward and pressing his come covered finger to his lips. "You made me bust so hard inside, it made me a little tired."

Whimpering, your eyes were blurred and hazy, weakly locked with his. Watching as he slipped his digit into his mouth and licked up the messy substance, feeling his lips press against yours after he swallowed it. After a few moments of kissing and cleaning up your disheveled body, Gojo stands and fixes his pants, his glasses returning to their spot on the bridge of his nose.

"Now, my little dove, why don't we try this relationship over?"

a/n: this was a really old draft i decided to touch up and continue recently since I haven't been posting much. i liked how toxic it turned out since i've been feeling a certain way recently lollll anyways, i hope you enjoyed this and hope to get the next chapter of Valentino posted soon! ^^

a/n pt2: There has been a serious lack of posting as I've once again been unable to get the creative juices flowing. I hope I can get back to doing some drabbles and another chapter of Valentino soon.

#gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu #anime #jujustu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo imagine #gojo sensei #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo #jjk x y/n #jjk anime #gojo satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #gojo jjk #gojo x you #gojo satoru jjk #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru hcs #gojo satoru imagines

[jo-harrington]

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 2: Out of Character

Previous Chapter: Alternate Universe

Summary: Things are starting to get weird in Hawkins. Weird for Eddie, especially. (AKA Eddie Munson and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week)

Word Count: 9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Angst, mention of virginity, Smut (male masturbation), sexual fantasies, brief Breeding Kink mention (I SWEAR IT WILL MAKE SENSE bear with me), Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Lovesick Eddie, jealousy, satire, a Monkey’s Paw type situation, Cliffhanger, Meta Fiction, Eddie acts a little OOC—it’s in the title

Note: Hey everyone, we're back with hopefully some more regularly posted chapters now that my baby SMVerse is complete. Very sorry for how long this chapter is, the next one is admittedly planned to be shorter. There was just a lot of dough to knead here. Thank you to @dr-aculaaa @powderblueblood and @rosewaterandivy for their contribution to some details of the chapter. IYKYK. And they know. Especially how much it means to me.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

It goes without saying that your newfound independence had led to the most fun you’d ever had.

You weren’t afraid to be by yourself; on the contrary, it was almost like you were by yourself for the first time in your life.

That was the thing about living in a small town, everyone knew everyone else and your friends and neighbors always popped in unannounced, usually to a lot of fanfare and excitement.

There was never a dull moment with your friends.

But every aspect of your life in Port Geneva hinged around them, and now you could really focus on you. Realize that you were worth more than what you did to enrich someone else's life. Now you could enrich your own.

You listened to music you'd never heard before. What music had you even listened to before?

You ate foods you'd never eaten before. If you really thought about it, what had you ever eaten but short stacks with strawberries and sandwiches from the deli and cafeteria pizza?

You saw the world; sketched buildings and landscapes that were so different from the ones you were used to. Had you ever seen a house that didn't look like the ones in your cookie-cutter suburb? Or seen grass that wasn't perfectly manicured?

Who knew that wildflowers existed outside of storybooks?

Sometimes you stayed for a while; got a little room at a motel in a town that reminded you a lot of home and nothing like home at all. Too homesick to keep jumping around but not homesick enough to go back. You'd get a job for a few weeks--always lucking out on an opening for a waitressing or babysitting gig or something--pad your pockets, fall in love with the town and sometimes with the people there.

Then the need to leave simmered in your bones once again and you were forced back onto the road.

There was one town you were almost loath to leave. A midwest town and a goofy guy named Ed who made you laugh and called you sweetheart and kissed you shyly; he really understood you, understood the need to march to the beat of your own drum, because his big dream was to get out of his hometown too and make a name of himself.

Which is why he wasn't mad when it was time for you to go.

You'd always remember Stuckeyville.

But it was no matter; the world was yours for the taking. You'd keep going, on and on to the next destination, until you couldn't anymore.

Then one day, a year-or-so into your trip, it happened.

You'd been driving, thinking of the postcards that were burning a hole in your backpack to be sent back home. It was late, and you were tired and ready to make it to your next destination.

That's when you crashed.

December 1985

"Ed..."

"Hmmm?"

"I've gotta get up."

"Five more minutes."

"You're lying on my arm." He could feel the slight movement of something beneath him. "God, you and your big fat head, my hand is numb!"

Eddie groaned as you pushed at him and before long, your finger--cold and wet with spit--slid into his ear, rendering him fully awake and squirming to get away from you.

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed as he hopped off his bed and tried to rid himself of the phantom feeling of your invasion. "Gah, ugh, gross!"

"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do," you grinned and got up from the bed to stretch. You put your hands on your hips and glared at him playfully. "Especially when she's gonna be late. You should know how Bev is better than anybody."

Violation quickly forgotten, Eddie watched you run back and forth around his room; a satisfied feeling settled in his chest as you picked bits of clothing up to layer back on, fixed your hair, swept the fingers over the corners of your eyes to wipe the sleep from them as you got ready for your shift at the Hideout.

It was a feeling that he was quickly becoming addicted to.

How many weeks had you been dating now?

Not enough to satisfy his rapidly increasing dependence on you.

Dating.

You even called him your boyfriend. God it still seemed like such a dream to him. One he never wanted to wake up from. But it was real. You had dates and you took naps together and talked on the phone; sure it was just easier to cross Forest Hills and sit on one of your porches to chat until it was past midnight and you were dozing off, but as the cold weather rolled in, the phone was the easier bet.

Racked up a bit of a phone bill but who was he to complain?

He always paid Wayne back.

It was worth it.

More often than not he started the call with the obligatory “what are you wearing” despite having most likely seen you earlier in the night. But you, not one to leave a man hanging, would always come up with a comical response: astronaut suit, Princess Leia’s bikini and a clown nose, pajamas made out of the hide of Big Bird himself.

It was ridiculous and nothing less than Eddie expected from his favorite tv character and the one true love of his life.

Thankfully, the two of you decided that sickeningly sweet was not your style. Not like some couples. There was no you hang up first or schmoopsie pet names. More often than not he just called you sweetheart; it rolled off the tongue. And you? Called him your idiot.

Yours.

He'd worried with Paige once upon a time that he didn't know how to be someone's boyfriend. Turned out, he just had to find someone to be a friend first, then the rest just...fell into place.

And aside from some of the nerves he'd had when you first showed up in town, and the ever-present question of just how you came to be in Hawkins--

There was a knock on the door to his bedroom.

"'Right Ed, I'm heading off to work," Wayne said through the door.

"Wait up," you called out to him as you hopped to pull your boots on. "I'm about to leave too."

You stopped briefly to give Eddie a tender kiss, and he chased after you when you tried to pull away. His lips refused to part from yours, his hands found your waist to tug you closer, and his heart soared when you sighed and gave into him a little longer.

--Everything was perfect.

You gave him a dreamy smile when you pulled away, one that quickly turned into a feral grin.

"I'm gonna be late," you whispered conspiratorially. "And the old man is gonna question whether your innocence is still intact or not if we take any more time."

Eddie froze.

Well. Almost perfect.

You took the opportunity to stick your tongue out at him and reached up to honk the tip of his nose, before you bolted from the room to leave.

Once the door to the trailer slammed shut and Eddie was alone, he fell back onto the bed with his hands over his face; his head spun as he wondered how the fuck he'd gotten here. To this point. This moment in time.

Because somehow...some way...you thought he was still a virgin.

"Somehow," he grumbled to himself after a second. "You're the one who told her you were, you idiot!"

And he had.

It was a funny story; it always was with Eddie.

Except this was anything but funny.

It has been the third date and there was just…a natural progression of things on your sofa after a day out at StarCourt. Music was playing, hands were wandering; he’d gotten a bit excited and rocked his hips against you creating a delicious crescendo of moans from both of you.

Then for some reason, Eddie thought back to Port Geneva.

Besides a few sweet kisses you shared with douchebag Mark Fisher, you never engaged in any…physical show of affection. No one did, actually. There had never been anything heavier than hand holding and kissing—maybe the occasional make out—shown on screen. Which, in hindsight he should have rationalized as being obvious; it was a family show on television, after all.

Instead he’d opened his big mouth and asked “hang on, are you a virgin?”

Rather than answer, you got bashful all of a sudden; you turned the question back on him, stuttering all the while.

“Eddie…a-are you a-a virgin?”

What could he say looking into your big wide eyes and kiss-bruised lips, thinking you were nervous and wanting to fix his gaff—especially considering all the blood had rushed from his brain to his cock—but yes?

Next thing he knew you were cuddling him, coddling him, and telling him that you could proceed with whatever next step he wanted, whenever he was ready.

In that moment how could he admit that it was all a lie? That he was an idiot and a liar trying to make you feel better? That he was no bumbling, blushing virgin; he was only saying it because he thought you were.

He knew if he tried to backtrack, you’d either believe he was a jerk or that he tried to lie again to feel less embarrassed.

So he let it slide.

Whatever. Virginity was a bullshit concept anyway.

The truth would come out eventually. It just made everything a little more complicated in the mean time.

“As if everything isn’t complicated enough anyway,” Eddie huffed.

Speaking of complicated, between napping in your comfortable embrace, your kiss, and thinking of the events that led up to the unfortunate virginity confession, he was in a bit of a situation.

Stiff and aching in his jeans, he did what he always did: Eddie took care of himself.

He unbuckled his belt and quickly rid himself of the barriers of denim and flannel, then scrambled to find the bottle of lotion that he unceremoniously shoved into the drawer of the bedside table. Just like all of the other things he tried to hide whenever you came over.

Other things...including the poster of you that he'd cut out of the TV Guide.

There was a spark of desire in him—of need—at the sight of it. Of you.

"I shouldn't," he muttered as his fingers hovered at the edge of the drawer, ready to close it. He'd already found what he needed. Best just close the drawer and crank one out and be a happy camper til the next time the need arose.

"It's just...not right...right?" he tried to convince himself as you stared up at him from inside the drawer.

He weighed the pros and cons, tried to convince himself that it was a normal thing. How many other times had he jacked off to pictures in magazines, or crushes from school. Shit, he'd even done it to the fantasy of you.

But now you were real and his girlfriend. Wasn’t that some kind of moral dilemma?

On the other hand, he would just be using a picture of his girlfriend to get off. That was normal, right?

Except...well...it was you, but not you you. Rosemary Glass you. The real you just left for work. The you in real life and the you in the TV Guide were not the same. You were full of life and energy and affection and not an ultra posed picture on a page.

There was another beat of debate before Eddie made a decision.

"Fuck it," he groaned and grabbed the flimsy magazine page and then slammed the back of his hand against the drawer to shut it. If he spent any more time weighing the moral implications here, he'd lose out on the opportunity.

So, poster in one hand, lotion well-coating the other, Eddie immediately sought out his hard cock and groaned with the brief sense of relief.

"Yeah," he sighed. His tongue traced the seam of his lips and he locked eyes with yours in the poster. "That's it."

Internal debate forgotten, he lost himself to his imagination with every stroke and squeeze and twist.

You kissed on him and your hand replaced his. No, your mouth instead of your hand. His mouth on you? He knew what your mouth tasted like; what about the rest of you? It was a delicious fantasy to explore.

His eyes roamed over the dips and curves of your body; he focused on the way your legs looked in that skirt as he squeezed the base of his cock and moaned.

What he wouldn't give to rip that skirt off of you. No, wait. You deserved better than that. He would undress you carefully, show how much you meant to him, then skink into your warmth. How would you feel? Like Heaven, he was sure.

His hand moved faster now, his toes curled, as he imagined this scenario and that one. What if he fucked you in the backseat of your car? Or shit, what about if he bent you over it? Take a drive out to the quarry and have his way with you.

"Fuck, fuck," he groaned and stilled for a second, savoring the intense build of feelings, before he bucked up into his fist repeatedly. "Yeah sweetheart just like that."

He focused on that sly smile, that tilt of your head.

Would you smile up at him like that when he was buried deep inside you, finding all the ways he could make you whine and keen for him. Shit, finding all the ways he would whine for you, just like he was now. Would you ask him for more?

"I'll give it to you baby," he muttered and bit his lip as the wave of his pleasure began to crest. He closed his eyes again to savor it. Savor the fantasy of you there with him, rocking and riding the wave with him. He couldn't wait for the day. "All of it. Whatever you want. Whatever you need."

Would you let him cum inside? You'd beg for it. Beg for his cum.

"Yeah? You'd let me?" he asked breathlessly.

"Please, please," you'd whine.

"Uh-huh? Yeah?"

"Please." You'd scrunch your eyes tightly, pull him in as deep as he could go. "Put a baby inside of me Eddie."

Eddie's eyes shot open and he choked on air. He let go of the now-crumpled magazine and his throbbing cock with a shout.

Panic gripped him.

"W-what the fuck?" he panted, rapidly coming down from his high like a man plummeting to the earth with a parachute that simply wouldn't open. "What the fuck? Why?"

His mind raced.

How had he thought of that? Where did it come from? He wasn't...he didn't...he'd never fantasized about something like that before. With anyone. Ever. Not alone either. Shit, he'd even accidentally checked out a porno from Family Video once that had a pregnant...

"Blagh," he gagged at the memory and fully lost the edge of his erection. The need to come was now gone; in fact, he suddenly never wanted to come again. Not if it meant that he was going to think thoughts like that?

With intense clarity, he tried to retrace his metaphorical steps. Tried to remember what exactly got him to those thoughts, to that...well, he could hardly call it a fantasy now could he? Nightmare. But he simply couldn't fathom how it had cropped up.

"Fuck," he groaned and looked down at himself. At his softening cock slick with lotion, at the crumpled picture of you with the sparkling eyes and smile. And he was reminded of the moral dilemma that he'd encountered a short while ago.

"No," he shook his head. "Not her. Rosemary Glass. That's all it is. I just...fucked myself up fantasizing about Rosemary Glass and my mind punished me. Haha Eddie, jokes on you, got the girl of your dreams and you'd prefer a picture. That's it."

Yeah, that's all it was.

All it had to be.

Otherwise...what the fuck was wrong with him?

What the fuck was wrong with Eddie Munson?

That seemed to be the question of the day, every day, for the rest of the week.

Well, that was what everyone seemed to ask Eddie; friends, teachers, bullies. To Eddie, though, it seemed like everything else was wrong.

It all started in O'Donnell's history class the following day after the, uh...fantasy incident.

He was excited to show up to class.

No, that wasn't why things were wrong. He'd been passing History, working hard ever since that first study date, excited to show up and succeed and actually graduate. And that day they were due to get a test back, one that he actually studied and prepared for.

So yes, he was excited.

Imagine his surprise when Mrs. O'Donnell placed the packet face-down on his desk and shook her head at him.

"I don't know what went wrong here Edward," she tutted. "You were making some real improvements. Such a disappointment."

Eddie frowned as she walked away, and he quickly flipped his packet over to the oh-so-familiar sea of red pen scribbles and a big fat F at the top of the page.

Not just an F. A zero.

"What the fuck?" he whispered.

He might not have been a star student but he’s never outright tanked a test before. Especially not one he’s studied for.

He went over every question again and every answer, wracked his brain for the responses he knew to be true—he had several B’s and C’s on quizzes to prove it—and then read the wrong answers on the test for all of them. Written in his obvious chicken scratch with doodles in the margins just like he remembered drawing when he took the test. So it's not like someone just wrote his name on their test.

O’Donnell took pity on him at the end of class and said he could sit for the test again during his study hall, especially since he’d been making some improvement. He’d practically kissed her.

Only for him to fail again.

He burned with self-hatred at first, and then simply turned his rage on O'Donnell, because he knew all of the answers. She must have just been a picky grader.

That was it, right? She just had it in for him.

But then other things just got worse.

Jason Carver might have been a tool bag and an antagonistic bully but he’d never been outright hostile before. Not like some of his predecessors.

Not like Tommy…Tommy H.

On an unrelated note, that bothered Eddie too. He couldn’t remember Tommy’s last name. Tommy who bullied him and his friends viciously. Tommy H…Tommy Hayes? Tommy Hagan? Both existed in his mind. And yeah normally he wouldn't give a shit but what the hell? First the History test and now Tommy H?

Regardless, Jason had been especially brutal lately.

Overly antagonistic, even calling Edde a freak in the middle of class. He and the rest of the basketball team had even begun their physical assault on him and his friends openly. The jocks pushed them into lockers, spit on them, and threw things. Gareth even got a black eye when they "ran into" the jocks after gym on Thursday.

Eddie knew he wasn't well-liked, but it burned him deep inside that no one spoke up, students and teachers alike. It was all out in the open, where everyone could see or report to the faculty. Even his friends kept their mouths shut and endured the abuse.

No one seemed to be bothered though; they kept to the status quo. And Eddie wasn’t gonna try his luck with Higgins on his own.

Cowards.

Friday morning, Eddie thought he had the answer; Chrissy Cunningham—Queen of Hawkins High and Jason’s girlfriend—spoke to him in homeroom. Not only spoke to him, but made moon eyes at him in every class they shared and in the hall between the classes that they didn't.

And it was getting annoying.

“Dude, Chrissy keeps looking over here,” Jeff whispered at lunch.

“I know!” Eddie slammed his hands on the table, startling the others. He took a calming breath and repeated himself, softer, to Jeff.

“What’s her deal? Does she wanna join Hellfire or something?”

“I dunno man, something strange is happening,” he shook his head and picked at his food. “I don’t know if she’s in some…argument with Jason and is trying to make him jealous. Or if she’s just bored and is enjoying his torment of the village idiots or something.”

“Maybe she wants to buy some weed,” Gareth piped up. “Slumber party with the rest of the cheer squad. She is the Captain. It’s her job to score.”

“Nah man,” Dave chortled. “I think it’s more likely that she’s trying to score in a different way. Get Eddie to fall in love with her or something and make a fool out of him.”

The guys all started laughing and making kissy noises, much to Eddie’s growing annoyance. Every puckering noise grated something deep within him. And it only pissed him offs more when the freshman started to get in on the fun, with Mike and Lucas singing about Eddie and Chrissy sitting in a tree—

“K-I-S-S-I-N—”

“Shut up!” Eddie slammed his hands on the table and shouted, voice echoing across the cafeteria, practically silencing everyone at the intrusion.

His shoulders heaved as he glared over at the jock’s table, where a certain someone with a bouncing strawberry ponytail waved hello, even as she sat with her boyfriend’s arm comfortably around her. And said boyfriend was glaring knives at him; if looks could kill, Eddie would be done for.

His thoughts spiraled and his ears started to ring.

What the fuck was going on? Why was everyone trying to fuck with him now? Why was everything suddenly out of control in such a short period of time? Was this karma? He got one thing he desperately needed so everything else was going to shit?

Suddenly he had an out of body experience, or at least…that’s what it felt like. He watched it all happen, felt all the movements and the words fly out of his mouth but he wasn’t in control.

One moment he was sitting at the head of his table, hands tented in front of his face as he contemplated life, and the next he was standing. Standing on top of the table, actually, and while that wasn’t an unusual occurrence, it’s what he did up there that was.

“Hey Carver, you have a fucking problem with me?” He shouted, hands cupped around his mouth. “Why don’t you step into my office and file a complaint!”

His arms swept outwards of their own volition and he bowed over to gesture to the table and to his friends.

“Pretty sure my associates have a few choice words for you too.”

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck…

Jason was on his feet immediately, with Patrick and Andy quick to follow.

“What’s your damage freak?” He chuckled sardonically through gritted teeth. “Trying to have your own little David and Goliath moment? Prepare to get toppled.”

“Wait, do you think you’re David right now? You think you’re a hero?”Jeff scoffed and got to his feet, spurning the rest of Corroded Coffin to do the same, sending jeers and taunts across the room. The jocks did much of the same, name calling and shouting vicious threats.

“I’m gonna kick your ass Emerson!”

“Kick? How about kiss! Just like your mom likes to do!”

It kept going until Eddie took a few steps down the table, leant down, and scooped his fingers through Mike’s gloopy mashed potatoes, ready to fling a handful towards the enemies.

He was prepared for the worst as he witnessed it all from inside his own body, as he felt the gravy slip down his hand and into the sleeve of his jacket. An all out war, the need to protect his friends again—worse this time with the Freshman—the dread of listening to Gareth’s fingers breaking once more…it would all start once the first shot was fired.

If there was a God—or some fate writing this in the books of the universe who was just really bad at writing a fight sequence—now would be the time for them to make themselves known.

“Munson!”

Eddie inhaled the air greedily as he regained control of himself, and he marveled at Higgins' sudden appearance: standing in the doorway to the cafeteria with Coach Palmer and Nancy Wheeler standing behind him.

He’d never been so happy to see them in his life.

“Munson,” Higgins shouted at him. “Get down from there!”

Jeff, knowing what was good for them all, pulled Eddie down from the table and he stumbled on legs made weak from the rapid loss of adrenaline. Lucas passed a handful of paper napkins for him to clean off his hands as Higgins and Coach crossed the cafeteria, Coach to take care of his little minions, and Higgins to take care of him.

Despite their tenuous truce, Higgins grabbed Eddie by the arm and tugged him towards the cafeteria doors.

“Detention,” he hissed in Eddie’s face.

“My fucking pleasure,” Eddie replied desperately, suddenly a devout believer in whatever deity he had evoked.

Man, this was getting to be a habit.

As he was escorted out of the cafeteria, Eddie vaguely heard Dustin over the din of classmate whispers.

“Guys, that was weird. What’s wrong with Eddie?”

“What do you mean?” Gareth answered blithely. “He’s always like that.”

"I can't believe you got detention."

"I mean, Higgins could have expelled me. Or tried to get me to drop out again."

"I really fucking hate that guy," you muttered and reached out to grab a box from the shelf. "How about this one?"

"Seen it, fake blood is obviously fake."

"You're such a horror snob."

"Don't deny it," he whispered in your ear and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "That's your favorite thing about me."

You put the movie back on the shelf in a huff and then the two of you shuffled forward down the aisle.

Saturdays were made to be spent together; Saturday mornings specifically. Eddie would take as much time with you as he could, but Hawkins was Hawkins and there was only so much to do. So you designated Saturdays as mornings out before you went to work and Eddie made the rounds to whatever parties he could safely show his face at and make some quick cash.

You traded off on whoever made plans, and today he had pathetically suggested a movie, snacks, and cuddling on the couch, needing to find a respite in your arms after the abject chaos of his week.

He already felt worlds better, more like himself, because you listened and understood.

He ranted and cursed during the drive and you hung onto every word, only interjecting to offer gentle encouragement. You didn't pity him or blame him--well, you blamed him for almost starting a food fight and since he couldn't explain what overcame him in that moment, he accepted it--but you made sure he knew that you had been in his shoes and understood exactly how he felt.

His dependence on you made itself known when you got into the store. As much as you protested his arms latching around you immediately, he knew you secretly enjoyed the proximity and the sweetness that he lavished you with.

Hobbling down the aisles with him practically attached to you; whispered stories, jokes, and terms of endearment; and an occasional raspberry on your neck if and when you had differing opinions about a movie.

Eddie thought The Outsiders was a good movie. You preferred the book. Which was fine. You tried to tell him Rob Lowe was cute, though; that earned you some punishment.

"Oh come on, don't tell me you never had a crush on a celebrity," you snorted and squealed and tried to free yourself from his grasp. Which you did successfully as your words made him freeze. "Or like...a character from a tv show or something."

You didn't know how close to the truth you were.

He felt his world tilt on its axis as you kept browsing and spouting off names and laughing, and with each celebrity or character you named, the more he thought of Port Geneva with intense clarity.

He could hear the theme song, see the neon text of the closing card, and feel his heart skip a beat when you'd show up on screen and greet your friends "Hey guys!"

"Hey guys!" your same voice rang from the other side of the partition of tapes, same emphasis and volume and cheer as you would on tv, as you greeted Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington. "Are those new?"

"Mmhmm," Robin affirmed. "Technically they were supposed to go out yesterday for the weekend, but someone was too busy flirting with Melanie Hartford."

Steve's embarrassed trip-up over a response was overshadowed as you called out.

"Hey Eddie, come here, I think they're putting out some new movies."

Eddie took a breath to compose himself, carefully placed the mask of cool and adoring boyfriend back on, and then rounded the corner to join you.

"If it's Death Wish 3 on tape, it wasn't that goo--" Eddie trailed off as he stopped in his tracks.

He understood why Steve sounded so embarrassed.

Eddie mainly steered clear of Steve Harrington over the years; yeah he was a shithead and a bit of a bully, but especially since the Freshman insisted that Steve was a nice guy, he'd tried to put it all in the past. Best not think of King Steve and all of the opportunities and advantages that he'd gotten, no matter how good of a guy they claimed he was.

Knowing Harrington's reputation and then fall from grace over the past few months though, he wondered if Steve had ever had some unreciprocated crush before.

Because he was certainly acting like he had a crush in front of you.

A crush on you.

Eddie knew what it looked like when someone had a crush; shit, he'd felt that way plenty of times over the years. The shifting eyes, the nervous stuttering. He'd gotten pretty good at hiding it, being able to put on the cool guy front. But Steve was doing it all out in the open.

Steve watched as you and Robin passed tapes back and forth--watched you more than Robin, actually--threw a comment in every now and again. When he cracked a joke, his eyes slid directly to you, and when you laughed, he beamed brightly.

And Eddie didn't know what he was more grateful for: the fact that you seemed oblivious to it all, or that he was there to witness it and put an end to it.

He tamped down the fire that built up inside of him and closed the distance; he threw an arm over your shoulder with a cool greeting to Robin and Steve.

"I've never even heard of some of these movies, have you?" Robin asked with some bewilderment.

"I don't know, this one sounds familiar," you hummed thoughtfully.

"See that's what I told Rob," Steve interjected and Eddie grit his teeth.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Robin scoffed.

"Isn't this the girl from Legend?" You held up a video box to Eddie to show him. He couldn't be bothered to really notice the titles of the movies on display--Ferris Bueller's Day Off, The Lost Boys, Lethal Weapon--and instead he chose to press a kiss to the side of your head and continue glaring at Steve.

You turned back to Robin.

"Do you guys have Legend? I saw it when it came out but it'd be nice to see it again."

"I can show you!" Steve jumped at the chance, but Robin rolled her eyes and pushed him away.

"I've got this dingus," she waved at the tapes on the counter. "If you could finish processing these like you should've done yesterday?"

Steve huffed as you and Robin walked away, but Eddie stayed behind. He leaned over the counter, elbows resting against the edge.

"How've things been Harrington?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Uhh," Steve shrugged but pointedly ignored Eddie's eyes. "Good, fine."

"Did I overhear Buckley right? Going on dates? You finally over Nancy Wheeler," Eddie's voice got progressively louder.

"What the--listen keep your voice down, Jesus," Steve laughed nervously, gaze shifting in the direction that you and Robin had disappeared. "A guy's gotta move on. Can't be lovesick over Nance forever."

Eddie plastered a fake smile on his face and laughed heartily.

"Yeah? Gotta find someone else to obsess over?" The smile dropped almost immediately and he became dead-eyed. "Stop making goo-goo eyes at my girlfriend."

"Hey, Munson, I'm sorry--" Steve held his hands out innocently. "She just came in one day and I thought she was cute; I didn't know that you were--"

"I'm sorry," Eddie mimicked Steve, standing stiff and straight with shaking hands. "I didn't know the freak could have a girlfriend."

He reached across the counter and grabbed Steve by the vest and pulled him forward, close enough so he could get in his face.

"Don't look at her again, don't talk to her again," he hissed. "You can have literally any other girl in Hawkins, King Steve. So you better get over your crush fast."

Yeah, it was harsh, and in hindsight he should have been a little nicer about it. But after everything had compounded on him all week, it was nice to just be a raging asshole like everyone expected him to be.

Unfortunately, you had never experienced Eddie The Villain Munson.

"Eddie, what the hell!" you exclaimed as you appeared in his peripheral vision.

Until right that second.

"Let him go, what are you doing?" you rushed forward and slapped at his hands to get him to release Steve. He did, but continued to glare as he backed away and took several calming breaths.

"Hey, in all honesty," Robin laughed nervously as she returned to the counter. "Dudley Do-Right here probably said something dumb and deserved it."

"What's going on?" you ignored her and whispered to Eddie. "I thought we were just gonna have a relaxing day. You were fine two seconds ago. What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," he deflected. "Don't worry about it."

"We can just go home and hang out like you wanted; you said Wayne has some Bonanza reruns on tape. We can laugh at Hoss and Little Joe and--"

His eyes went wide; the Bonanza tapes were by the TV, mixed up with the Port Geneva tapes.

"No!" he shouted aggressively...defensively; it startled you. "No Bonanza!"

"Oh...kay."

Then your whole demeanor changed.

You crossed your arms in front of you and your eyes went cold and distant; you frowned, deep enough to create lines on your forehead and around your mouth. You suddenly looked a lot older than you were, aged by disappointment and...guilt maybe? He didn't know. He'd never seen you like that before, and he suddenly felt bad.

"Let's uhh...let's just go," you offered quickly, then apologized to Steve and Robin for taking their time.

"Hey wait, I'm sorry," he tried to apologize. "We can still get a movie and hang out. I just...I don't know...I fucked up. I'm sorry."

"No, I...I forgot Bev said she might need some extra help today. Making some changes, I don't know. I need to go in. It's my fault. I'm sorry."

"Sweetheart wait!" he called out as you walked out of the store and towards your car. He looked back at Robin and Steve, who pointedly avoided looking at him, and then huffed a sigh and followed you.

The ride back to Forest Hills was tense and silent.

Eddie knew he fucked up, knew he hurt you, but didn't know what to say or how to fix it.

"What the fuck is wrong with Eddie Munson?"

That was the question of the week, and now even Eddie was asking it of himself. Especially since he couldn't even control himself.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to you when you parked in front of his place. "I don't know...I'm just sorry."

"It's ok," you shook your head. "Seriously Eddie, don't worry about it. You just had a bad week. I need to go to work. We'll hang out another time."

"I'll call you tonight," he promised. "After work."

"Sure," you offered a tight-lipped smile. "Just rest today ok? And feel better."

"Yeah."

"Everything's gonna be ok."

"I know."

He leaned over and gave you a kiss and there was something about the way that you kissed him...that made his heart ache, and he didn't know why.

Eddie watched as you drove away, off to the Hideout to help Bev, or whatever else you could do if it ended up being a lie so you could just get away from him.

He'd fix it; he had to. He just got his wish, got you; he couldn't lose you. It would be the last straw.

He climbed up the porch steps, lost in his own thoughts, but when he opened the door--

"What the fuck?"

--all of his worries were forgotten, because the trailer was trashed.

Wayne was blissfully asleep on the fold-out bed, but there were piles of laundry on the couch, dirty dishes piled in the sink in the kitchen. Empty, crushed beer and soda cans littered the floor; honestly, there was just trash everywhere.

Eddie had only left an hour or two ago, and the trailer...well it might have had some clutter but at least it was tidy. It looked like an atomic bomb of trash had exploded in here.

If he had just been wondering what was wrong with him, he was suddenly wondering what was wrong with the universe again.

"What the fuck?"

The rest of the weekend had been spent cleaning.

Not tidying, literally cleaning.

He'd tried to ask Wayne about it all--maybe some weird trash bandit had come or kids trying to pull a prank, it wasn't like they really locked their doors--but what was even more suspicious was that Wayne didn't blink an eye at the mess.

"I work, you have school," he shook his head and tried to go back to sleep. "Chores pile up kid. That's the way it's always been. We'll get ahead of it again eventually."

And that just made Eddie feel bad; had it actually been this bad all along and he never realized it? Had Wayne done all this cleaning and housework on his own and now the weariness and the years just started to catch up? It must've only gotten worse now that Eddie lived with him.

So Eddie kept his head down and his mouth shut and tried to make it all better.

He cleaned and cleaned, and it seemed that no matter how much he cleaned, everything only got worse. The laundry on the sofa had been put away--more laundry than Eddie or Wayne really even had clothes to be honest. The fridge was somehow both empty--even though he'd just remembered to do a little grocery shopping...or had that been the other day--and full of rotten food at the same time. There was plenty of beer though. The dishes were all cleaned and spotless, only for him to come home from school on Monday afternoon to find them all to be right back again. Has they even used real dishes? Not that he could recall.

Fuck.

He complained to you on the phone late Saturday night--

"I don't know how it happened. It's like suddenly out of the blue it all just...appeared."

"Wayne didn't hold a secret party while we were out?" you asked, although your voice seemed stiff...distant.

"He just rolled right over and went back to sleep."

--but aside from some sympathy, you didn't seem to think anything was weird.

Hell, even his friends didn't seem suspicious.

"The trailer is always dirty," Gareth scoffed at practice on Monday night. "Like...no offense man, it's a trailer park, what do you expect."

It took everything in Eddie not to knock his buddy out right then and there; how many times had he told them how awful and stereotypical that kind of idea was. How hurtful people were when they found out he'd moved in with Wayne. Only for Gare to come back and spit it back at him again?

Instead he put that hateful energy into coming up with some kind of way to make you...forgive him...or love him again or something. He'd floated the idea of a ballad or some kind of love song to the guys at practice, ready to wow you on Tuesday night at the Hideout.

They hemmed and hawed but after he promised they'd all roll with advantage during the following Friday's session, they agreed and even suggested songs to get him back in your good graces.

Now it was Tuesday night. Time had passed by in a flash and he was standing at the door to the Hideout, ready to knock your socks off.

The guys were inside already, setting up, but he'd needed a moment to think of what to say to you.

He paced in the gravel, thought about his apology, thought about the song that he'd picked. The last song of the set, one he'd dedicate to you.

It would be perfect.

He mustered up the courage and walked inside, only to be hit by shock once again.

How many times could someone utter the words "what the fuck" in one week? Eddie had to be going for a world record.

When Eddie had suggested the Hideout when you mentioned looking for jobs, he'd warned you that Bev was a curmudgeon but the nicest curmudgeon you'd meet, and that the bar itself was, affectionately, a shithole. A house turned into a bar on the side of the highway, with a bunch of plywood in the corner that doubled as a stage, a makeshift bartop that was probably older than his uncle, and chipped glasses.

Now, it was almost...nice?

With an actual small, raised stage and a few spotlights hanging from the ceiling, neon signs boasting brands like Old Style and Coors--something Bev had always said was just the glitter and not the gold--and a sleek black bar with a marble top and comfortable-looking barstools. And it all had Eddie wondering if he'd stepped into the Twilight Zone.

That was it right? That had to be it. He'd stepped into the Twilight Zone the minute you'd showed up outside of his trailer and he hadn't returned to the real world since.

"Hey, there you are," you approached him from behind the bar with a tense smile. "The guys were wondering when you'd come in. I got them all cherry cokes to shut them up."

"You didn't have to buy them drinks," Eddie shook his head. "They don't deserve it."

"On the house," you reassured him.

"I'm sorry," he choked on air. "On the...on the house? On the house meaning...Bev's treating? Bev who must've secretly won the lottery or something? Look at all of this." He gestured around the bar and then lifted his feet. "The floors aren't even sticky."

"I told you that she was making changes," you shrugged, but refused to meet his eyes.

"Changes, not...a full renovation, wow." He looked around in awe, then squinted when he saw something on one of the tables. "She even sprung for printed napkins too."

"Yeah," you laughed nervously. "Guess she did. It's as much of a shock to me as it is to you. You, uh, better get the guys before they cause too much trouble."

"Yeah I should," he nodded slowly, but grabbed your wrist when you tried to walk away. "I know I've said it a million times sweetheart but I'm sorry I scared you."

"You didn't Ed, I promise," you tried to smile but it didn't quite reach your eyes.

"Can we talk maybe? After the set? Like really talk? I'll even wipe the tables off for you." You hesitated but nodded, and he gave you the briefest peck on the cheek before running down the back hallway to the little smokers exit to find the guys.

Only to find them in a legitimate green room in what he was sure used to be the storage room where Bev kept the kegs. His friends were all laid out along leather couches that sat along the perimeter of the room, sipping their cherry cokes and chatting. There was a coffee table right in the center laden with snacks and magazines.

"Man," he commented with a whistle, alerting the guys to his presence. "Can you guys believe this?"

"I know," Jeff giggled maniacally and then reached out to grab a bag of peanut M&M's. "Brand name snacks, and not the generic kind we usually get."

"Makes me feel like we're about to hit it big," Dave agreed.

Eddie tripped over his words for a second, not entirely sure that they were as astounded by the Hideout's transformation as he was, but he shook off the bewilderment to tell them it was time to go perform.

They raced back down the hall to the stage, and although the bar had just been empty when he walked in--save for you and some of the regulars slumped in their seats--there was definitely a crowd. Or the beginnings of one. A couple canoodling at a table, a few college-aged people ordering beers, and a group for a bachelorette party or something at the large booth that had been installed in the corner by the door.

"Wow," Eddie breathed out, nerves suddenly overtaking him. They'd never played a crowd like this before. "Hope they like metal."

And they did. They were head banging and once they were familiar enough with the lyrics a few people were singing along.

It was invigorating. Refreshing. Aside from the handful of people who'd been involved in the whole...record label fiasco, he'd really never experienced this many people who were excited for his sound. Their sound.

He wasn't gonna betray his friends, his band, like that again.

There were a few songs that Jeff and Gareth suggested that weren't originally on their setlist, and they really weren't metal technically, but they all knew the songs and the crowd was excited for them, so he couldn't complain.

Towards the end of the set, he felt his stomach churn with nerves again. Worse now, because it was time.

"Uh," he stepped up to the microphone, a little too close as it squeaked with feedback. "Hey guys, thanks for uh...thanks for coming out. Make sure you...tip your bartender...and her lovely assistant." He gestured over to you and a grumpy-looking Bev at the bar.

The audience clapped, even the handful of drunk regulars.

"Now uh, speaking of the lovely assistant, I...um..." he cleared his throat and looked down at his guitar. "I might have messed some stuff up with her the other day, and I know she's still a little mad at me. So sweetheart, without further ado, this one's for you. Corroded Coffin's rendition of..."

He paused. Froze.

The words were right on the tip of his tongue: All Through The Night.

They'd practiced it for hours, really making the cover theirs. They added all sorts of guitar riffs and a sick solo that ended with him sending a kiss across the bar to you. It was supposed to be perfect.

He cleared his throat and tried again.

"Corroded Coffin's All..." He shook, struggled to get the words out. "All...All My Only Dreams. Enjoy."

What the fuck? What the fuck?

He felt that out of body experience again, just like he had in the cafeteria, as his fingers plucked at the strings of his guitar and Gareth and Dave set a slow beat.

It felt like some bad knockoff song from the 60's. Maybe something he heard on one of his mom's records. But he couldn't place it.

What was this song? How did the guys know it? Why had he said that? What was All My Only Dreams?

It was certainly not metal. Certainly not music.

"Every night I pray, I'll have you here someday," he felt himself sing. "I'll count the stars tonight, and hope with all my might..."

He stared at you across the bar as the song continued, out of his control; the couple stood from their table and began swaying back and forth and you stood there behind the bar, wide-eyed with a hand covering your mouth. In shock or disbelief or pain he couldn't quite tell.

"Every waking hour it seems, I only have you in my dreams."

All he knew was, this song kept going and going and he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to. Couldn't stop himself from playing or singing, couldn't stop Jeff from harmonizing with him on certain verses.

Until the song was over.

"If I could have just one request, stay with me girl I'll confess, all my only dreams."

He strummed the last few notes, and as soon as the audience started clapping, he felt whatever puppet strings get cut, felt himself in control again.

Eddie panicked. He didn't even wait for the applause to be over, didn't thank the crowd like he usually would. He just swung the guitar over his shoulder and jumped off the stage with the guys hot on his heels.

"What's going on?" Gareth hollered after him.

"Yeah Ed, where are you going?" Jeff caught up to him and tried to put a hand out to stop him, but Eddie just shrugged him away.

"That was our best performance ever," Dave insisted. "And applause on an original song to boot."

Eddie froze as he reached the green room, and then turned on his friends, hackles raised.

"Original song." He parroted. "Original song? That wasn't an original song!"

"Yeah it was," Jeff nodded. "All My Only Dreams. You made us practice it all night last night so it was perfect."

"We practiced All Through the Night," he laughed dryly. "Are you high right now Jeff? Fuck, am I high right now?"

"Are you?" Gareth exclaimed. "Because I didn't just learn that song so you could make it up to your girlfriend just so you could act crazy like this man."

Jeff walked over to the pile of their stuff in the corner of the room, and fished a folded piece of paper out of the pocket of his backpack.

"Here I'll prove it to you," he grumbled and unfolded it. "All My Only Dreams. By Eddie Munson."

He shoved the paper into Eddie's hands and Eddie stared at it in disbelief. His handwriting, again, with words that he didn't remember writing. A little heart in the corner with your name scribbled inside of it, just like he did in his school notebook sometimes.

"What the fuck..." he muttered to himself, and then looked up at his friends, suddenly lightheaded and sick.

He felt angry, he felt like crying, he felt like...like everything in the world was turning upside down on him and it was some kind of cruel joke that everyone was in on but him.

He opened his mouth to start yelling, when your head appeared behind the guys.

"Hey, 'scuse me guys," you announced your presence and Dave, Jeff, and Gareth all parted so Eddie had a full view of you.

You looked just as sick as he felt. Your face was crumpled in a terrible pensive frown, hands wrung together in front of you.

"Can you give me and Eddie a few minutes alone? While you all break down your stuff?" you asked softly, and Eddie felt his heart drop into his stomach as the others left.

You closed the door to the green room behind you and then took a few deep breaths.

This was it.

You were gonna break up with him.

The universe was cruel to let Eddie have you, only to play these games and lose you in such a short amount of time.

He was so caught up in the panic of possibly losing you that he didn't notice you talking until you were right in front of him. Your hands cradled his face and you stared into his eyes, your own full of worry.

"Eddie, Eddie are you ok?" you asked, voice edged with panic.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat. "Yeah, sorry...I was..."

"It's ok, don't worry," you reassured him. "It's...fuck...it's ok."

"Did you like the song?" he questioned, dumbly.

You let out a snort of laughter and then squished his face between your hands for a second.

"We need to talk," you whispered. "It's gonna be a lot. And it's not gonna be easy to hear, and I know you're gonna have a lot of questions, and I don't...I...fuck Ed...I'm so sorry."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"I..." You looked lost for a second. "Eddie, I don't know how to answer that question. No...not really."

"Not really isn't no."

"Alright smartass," you scoffed. "No, I'm not breaking up with you. But that doesn't mean...doesn't mean that this thing we've got going on now isn't over. It's...what I'm gonna tell you right now is gonna change everything."

You helped him to sit down on one of the leather couches and then you paced back and forth, nervously chewing your thumbnail and looking for a way to start.

"This..." you began tentatively. "This isn't...real."

"So I am dreaming," he looked around for a moment. "Makes sense."

"No...you're not dreaming. It's just...well, ok, Ed. It's gonna be really hard to understand. But I'm gonna need you to tap into that big imagination of yours. Ok? Because God damn, if there was anyone I could get to understand, it's honestly you. Making up all sorts of stories and fantasies for Dungeons and Dragons.

“I’m sure you’ve started noticing things happening? Weird things, uncanny things, impossible things. And it’s making you go a little cross-eyed, a little crazy, makes you feel like you’re losing your mind because the only person who notices the changes…well it’s you. But it isn’t only you.

"This..." you waved around. "It's all real. It's a real world and we live in it. I'm real, you're real. I can touch you, kiss you. But it isn't. Not really."

He suddenly felt like you were talking down to him, and felt that irrational anger start to build again. You’d made sense up to a point. This was real, but it wasn't real, but it was real enough so he could kiss you? But somehow not real enough because you were bringing up stories he created for DnD, like it was all part of his imagination. But somehow he was also crazy?

"What the fuck is going on?" he demanded.

"Eddie," you took a breath and closed your eyes for a second. "This right now? Everything you see? This room, that song, me, and you?"

"Yeah."

"We're all fictional. We're all...in a fan fiction."

Next Chapter: Lore Dump

There is no taglist for this series, please follow the STFF Updates tag or check the series out on AO3.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger than (fan)fiction #stff #stff updates #stranger things fic

[animebw]

So! In order to keep myself from losing my goddamn mind in the aftermath of that G-Witch episode (how are we supposed to wait two weeks for the next episode I swear to fuck), I want to take a second and focus on something this show has done exceptionally well, but that I haven’t really seen talked about at all. Namely, the fact that Suletta is one of the best examples of an overpowered protagonist I’ve ever seen.

And yes, she is canonically overpowered. As long as she has Aerial by her side, she can curb-stomp pretty much every opponent without breaking a sweat. Time and again, she goes up against impossible odds and wipes the floor with them The best duelist at school? Chump. Facing multiple opponents alone and outnumbered? Child’s play. And honestly, I was starting to get annoyed by it around the end of the first season. How are we supposed to believe Suletta’s ever going to be in danger if she’s so ludicrously stronger than everyone else?

And then The Slap happened, and everything turns upside-down.

See, what makes season 1′s cliffhanger ending so goddamn powerful isn’t just the sight of our cheerful bumbling protagonist liquifying a living person into red paste in front of her horrified fiance. It’s not just the realization of how deep Prospera’s manipulation has twisted Suletta’s sense of identity. No, the real secret behind The Slap’s brilliance is that it retroactively makes every single moment of Overpowered Suletta fucking terrifying. Suddenly, we realize that her overwhelming strength in battle is a direct result of Prospera’s influence, raising her to be the perfect pawn in her little scheme. The reason she’s able to knock the socks off every single opponent she faces isn’t just Latent Protag Syndrome; it’s because her mother crafted her into a relentless warrior with the strength to destroy any obstacle in the path to her revenge. Suletta’s strength in battle isn’t just overwhelming; it’s dangerous, to herself and everyone around her. And the second she has to unleash that strength in a situation more serious than a no-casualties school sporting match, it becomes instantly, horrifyingly clear that she is in no way ready to grapple with the great responsibility that comes with such great power.

In other words, what first seemed like just a case of another anime protagonist winning every fight because reasons turns on its head and makes that overpowered nature a source of fear, both for the audience and for Miorine. So instead of ending up a boring tension-killer where we’re never afraid for Suletta’s safety, the fact that she’s capable of such force becomes the most critical source of tension and conflict driving her and Miorine’s story in the second season. Suletta being so overpowered is an explicit character flaw, at least as long as Prospera’s claws are in her. Because just because she can punch away any physical threat in her path doesn’t mean she’s not vulnerable in countless other areas. She may be the strongest in a fight, but she has nowhere near the strength of character to deal with the political schemes and emotional burdens that come about as a result of that strength. All that skill on the battlefield doesn’t mean shit when you can’t see how that skill is being manipulated for dark ends, or causing you to take on stress and trauma you have no healthy way of coping with. Suletta can smash her way to victory in any fight, and yet she’s the most vulnerable, least protected person in the entire cast, in no small part thanks to the forces that made her so strong in the first place.

There’s a reason characters like Saitama from One Punch Man and Mob from Mob Psycho 100 are so beloved, despite being so overpowered. ONE knows that in order to make an overpowered character interesting, you need to give them struggles beyond the scope of their powers to fix. Saitama can punch a mountain in half, but he can’t punch his way out of existential ennui; that’s just as much of a struggle for him as any normal person. Mob’s psychic powers can’t solve his emotional turmoil or provide him the perfect path toward maturity; he has to figure that out himself. They are overwhelmingly strong in fights, but the primary conflict of their stories has very little to do with those fights and everything to do with their growth as people. They’re stories about how even being the strongest person alive doesn’t protect you from the challenges of life that everyone on this planet faces, and their journeys to self-actualization are enormously compelling as a result. No one remembers the overpowered exploits of Isekai Harem Protagonist du jour; everyone remembers watching Saitama and Mob slowly find their way forward in life, one simple step at a time.

Suletta, in my eyes, is very much in the same vein. Like Saitama and Mob and all the best overpowered protagonists, her writing understands that being incredibly skilled in one area doesn’t mean you can’t be challenged in others- and in Mob’s case especially, how that incredible skill can actually be the biggest obstacle for the challenge you actually need to overcome. Suletta’s skill in battle is made compelling by her lack of that same skill in other areas, and the ultimate conflict of Gundam Witch is a conflict she cannot punch her way out of. If she’s going to survive this chaos and live happily every after with Miorine, she will need to struggle to overcome her years of conditioning and emotional uncertainty. She will need to struggle just as Mob struggled, just as Saitama struggled, not just to learn the skills she hasn’t developed yet, but to push back against the influence that resulted in her being so freakishly strong in the first place. Suletta is an overpowered protagonist who’s overpowered nature is, itself, the greatest challenge she will have to overcome in order to truly save herself and the people she loves. And I think that’s really damn neat.

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #mobile suit gundam: the witch from mercury #gundam witch #gundam witch from mercury #g-witch #suletta mercury #miorine rembran #suletta x miorine #prospera mercury

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

I NEED a part 3 of the step-cest one like the cliffhanger omgg ✋😭

left me wanting more 😖

Here ya go! :)

Pleaser - Stepbrother!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 3

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Ethan has more creative ways to sneak around with you

A/N: I got so many requests for this within the last 24 hours. I hope y'all like it, and if you want me to write more for it, let me know!

You were almost asleep when you heard your phone vibrate on the nightstand beside you. You checked it, curious to see who would be texting you at almost midnight. You smiled when your eyes adjusted and saw Ethan’s name.

Ethan: You still up?

You: I was almost asleep, but someone decided to text me🙄

Ethan: I’m sorry, I’ll let you get some rest, but I wanted to show you something😏

You waited as you stared at the screen, seeing a video pop up. You clicked on it to see Ethan shirtless with his pants halfway down his thighs and his hard cock in his hand. He was quietly moaning your name as he stroked it, before his bottom lip went in between his teeth to keep himself quiet when his whimpers got louder. His tip was red as his precum was leaking out, his hand movements speeding up because he was so needy. Within seconds, his head fell back as his cum shot out, all over his abs.

You were salivating at the video, wanting nothing more than to be with him.

You: I wish that camera wasn’t in the hallway. I’d lick that cum off you👅

Ethan: Fuck I wish you could

You: Why’d you have to send that to me? I’m so wet right now

Ethan: I didn’t get to cum earlier, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how amazing your pussy feels

You: What’s this plan you have? Because I don’t know how to not have you in my bed with me

Ethan: I’ll tell you tomorrow, baby. Get some sleep.😘

You: Goodnight

It took you forever to fall asleep as the thoughts of Ethan ran though your mind. You couldn’t believe how crazy the day was. You couldn’t believe you got caught. But the one thing you really couldn’t believe was that your mom and Wayne separating meant you actually had a chance with Ethan.

The next morning, your mom walked into your room to wake you up. You hadn’t spoken to her since she mentioned wanting to install the cameras, and you hated that she no longer trusted you.

“Good morning,” she said, opening the curtains to let the sunlight pour in.

“Ughhh,” you groaned out, the exhaustion from only a few hours of sleep made you pull the comforter over your head.

“You need to get up. I want to discuss a few things with you before I leave,” she said, taking a seat at the foot of your bed.

You pulled the comforter off your head, your tired eyes meeting hers.

“I’ll get a notification every time there’s movement in front of the cameras. Don’t think I won’t be watching. If I see anything happening that I shouldn’t be, you’re going to stay with your dad until Ethan and Wayne move out,” her tone was stern, and it took everything in you to not roll your eyes.

“Why is it that the second you find out I’m not perfect, you think I can’t be trusted?” you asked, genuinely curious.

She sighed, not knowing how to answer your question.

“I graduated with honors, I got early acceptance into college, and I do everything you ask of me. I just don’t get it,” you said, sitting up. “I know that wasn’t something you wanted to see, but if you and Wayne are separating, why is it a big deal?”

“It’s a big deal because right now, he’s still your stepbrother. You’re under the same roof. I just can’t trust you around him. All the teenage hormones are obviously too much for the two of you,” she said, standing up to leave. “I’m sorry you feel like your privacy has been stripped away, but it’s the only way I feel comfortable leaving you here with him and not sending you to your dads house two hours away from here.”

She closed the door behind her as she walked out. You threw your pillow at the door, the soft sound it made when it hit the floor very unsatisfying.

“Fuck,” you said, grabbing your phone. You saw a text from Ethan.

Ethan: Good morning, beautiful. I’m going to make you breakfast. Come to the kitchen in 20.😊

You: I didn’t know you could cook🧐

Ethan: There’s a lot of things you still need to know about me

You smiled as you locked your phone, deciding to get up to shower. You couldn’t shake the creepy feeling of the cameras, so you looked all around the bathroom, making sure there wasn’t one in there before shedding your clothes.

You looked over your tired appearance in the mirror, hoping the shower would help. You cut the water on, noticing that it wasn’t getting very hot. You assumed it was from everyone else showering before you, so you decided to make it quick. As you tried to wash the shampoo out of your hair, the water turned ice cold. You squealed at the sudden temperature change, your teeth starting to chatter as you hurried through the rest of your shower faster than you thought was possible.

After you got out, you saw a text pop up from your mom.

Mom: If you’re showering, don’t walk out in a towel. Put your robe on.

You rolled your eyes as you dried off, still freezing from the cold shower. You put your robe on, stopping to do a spin in the hallway for your mother that seems to be watching your every move, before going to your room to get dressed.

When you walked towards the kitchen, the delicious aroma of what Ethan was making made your mouth water. You walked up beside him as he stood in front of the stove, wanting so badly to hug him. You looked behind you to see the camera on the wall.

“I feel like a prisoner,” you whispered, as Ethan started to laugh.

“The good news is, I disabled the audio. They can’t hear anything we talk about,” he said, placing a pancake onto the small stack he’d already made.

“Aren’t they going to notice?” you asked, speaking at a normal volume.

“No, I told dad to tell your mom that it doesn’t record audio. He doesn’t see the point in them knowing what we talk about,” he let out a small laugh as he spoke.

“You should’ve heard the awkward conversation I had to have this morning. If we get caught doing anything, I have to go live with my dad until you move out.”

Ethan started to laugh again as you cocked your eyebrow at him.

“I wonder if your mom realizes you’re two windows down from me. This is a one-story house,” he said, smiling.

“So that’s your plan? You’re going to get into my room from the outside?” you smirked, as he carried the stack of pancakes over to the table he set for the two of you.

“Yep. She’ll never know.”

After breakfast, that’s what he did. He went to his room a few minutes before you went to yours, hoping that it would seem a little less obvious. The last thing he wanted was for your mom to get suspicious. You opened your window, your head hanging out as you watched Ethan jump out of his. He walked over to you, placing a kiss to your lips before climbing in.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping his arms around you as you stood in front of him.

“Hi,” you said, as you nuzzled into his chest.

He held you there for a while, not wanting to let you go.

“You look so beautiful today,” he said, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Yeah, the whole ‘no makeup, damp hair, after an ice-cold shower’ thing really makes me feel attractive,” you joked, finally pulling away from him to lead him towards your bed.

“You’re always beautiful,” he said, sighing as he relaxed on your bed. “Come here, baby.”

You laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as the two of you cuddled in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s presence. His hand rubbed against your back as you started to doze off.

After a couple hours, you woke up to your phone ringing. You smiled as you looked at Ethan, his eyes dazed as he tried to wake up too.

“Fuck, it’s my mom. Be quiet,” you said, as he laughed a little. “I’m serious!”

Your eyes were staring him down as he watched you answer the call, a smirk playing on his lips as he got in between your legs.

“Hello?” you answered, as his hands started to run up your thighs.

“Hey, just wanted to check in on you and see how you were doing,” she said, as you heard her eating her lunch.

“I’m not with Ethan if that’s why you’re asking,” you mumbled, your eyes going wide as his hands slid under the waistband of your leggings. He slowly slid them, along with your panties down your thighs, his eyes looking into yours as he smiled.

“I know you’re not. I’ve had the camera app pulled up at my desk all day,” she said, as Ethan started to place open-mouthed kisses up your legs, starting at your ankles.

“Well, I’m trying to watch a movie, can we talk when you get home?” you asked, as his mouth started to reach your inner thighs.

“No, I wanted to talk. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you asked me this morning about not trusting you,” she sighed, as your bottom lip went in between your teeth. When Ethan’s eyes met yours, he raised up to mouth ‘Be quiet’. Your heart was pounding in your chest as he leaned back down, gently licking your clit.

“Are you there?” your mom asked.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. This movie is just really good,” you said, your hand tangling in Ethan’s hair.

“Okay, maybe we should just talk later, then. My lunch is almost over, anyway,” she said, as Ethan’s tongue started to move faster against you.

“Okay, love you,” you said, your voice sounding a little strained.

“Are you okay?” she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

“Yeah, it’s a scary movie,” you said, trying to pull it together long enough to get her to hang up.

“Oh, okay. I’ll be home in a few hours. Love you, too,” she said, before you heard the beeping that the call had ended.

You let out all the whimpers you had to keep deep inside of you as you locked your phone, your hands lightly tugging at his hair.

“Oh fuck,” you mewled, as you felt one of his fingers slip inside of you. He soon added another one, angling them just right to hit the spot you needed him to. “Right there, baby.”

His fingers started to press harder into that spot, as the sounds of your moans and wetness echoing off the walls. He looked up to see your lip between your teeth again, your moans muffled as your eyebrows knitted together. Over the last few days, he’s taken in what all of your facial expressions mean during sex. He knew your current one meant that you were getting close. Well, that and the tightening grip on his hair.

He groaned against your clit at the feeling, your hips starting to shake at the vibrations. He started to hum against you as your hips moved against his mouth and fingers.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned out, your core spasming around his fingers.

His movements slowed down as he worked you through it, not wanting to overstimulate you too much. He placed one last lick to your clit, before crawling back up to lay on the bed beside you.

“Why did you do that?” you asked, your breathing still irregular.

He laughed as his hand ran up your arm.

“I think I have a new kink,” he said, looking over to you. “There’s just something so hot about the idea of getting caught.”

You playfully smacked his chest as he faked hurt.

“Hey, you liked it, though!” he uttered, defending his actions.

“You just wait until it’s your dad calling one day to check on you,” you smirked, as your hand ran over the hard cock in his jeans.

He pulled your hand away, lacing your fingers with his. You gave him a confused look as he smiled at you.

“I don’t want you to think the only thing I care about is fucking you. You’re way more than that,” he said, “As bad as I want it, making you cum is all I needed.”

You smiled at him, leaning over to place a kiss on his lips.

“So are you just going to hold out until later tonight and send me another video?” you joked, laying your head back on his chest.

“You have no idea how many nights I’ve jerked off thinking about you,” he said, his hand moving to your hair.

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