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bluepluto03 · 4 months

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Branch Sacrifices himself for Floyd AU

Summary: in which Branch sees Floyd getting the life sucked out of him and gets freaked enough to make a really bad decision

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“I have a proposition for you. A trade.”

“Branch no!” Floyd yells

“Trade for what?”

“For me. You free Floyd, and you can use me instead.”

“Branch, leave, please.” Floyd begs.

Branch ignores him resolutely

Velvet seems to be considering. “Why should I trade?”

“Um… I won't die as fast?” Branch offers, caught off guard. He didn’t expect he’d need to convince her to kidnap him.

(Full mini/bullet fic under the cut)

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Note: this is a cross between a actual fic and a bullet fic bc I have Other Projects I’m supposed to be working on and I’m trying to limit myself from going all out on trolls, but if people like this maybe I’ll try to clean it up some more and put it on ao3

Branch gets the bait letter sometime before the wedding. He panics badly, barely stops to leave a note for Poppy before running off to mt rageous.

JD has already spoken with Floyd and left to collect everyone

At first their Reunion is pretty similar to cannon with a bit more confusion and worry

Branch starts trying to get the cover off the vents so he can take Floyd with him- he doesn’t want to leave him there. But It’s a huge metal grate over a vent and he’s one tiny troll there’s only so much he can do

Floyd hears Velvet and Veneer approaching and tells Branch to run. Branch argues against him, keeps trying to open the stupid grate, ignoring Floyd’s pleas for him to run

In the hallway the voices of Velvet and Veneer go quiet but the trolls are too frantic to notice

Floyd points out Branch can’t help him if they’re both caught, and Branch reluctantly agrees to hide

Velvet, who’s been listening at the door, bursts in. She lunges at Branch but he escapes into the vents where she can’t reach him

Vaneer whines they’ll never be able to find him now

Velvet is like hmm… picks up Floyd’s crystal, Floyd seems scared, looking back up at her

“Such a shame. Im not sure this one will last until the next one shows up.” She says loudly

Her voice rattles around the vents and shakes the ground Branch is trying to stand on and he he grits his teeth against it

“Oh im sure another one will show up soon enough, but we have half a dozen shows in the next few days. This one’s getting pretty weak.” she shakes Floyd. “With two, well theres one for each of us! Right veneer?”

“R-right?”

“Im sure two would be able to make it much longer…”

Branch knows what she’s doing. He knows she’s just trying to bait him out. The stupidest thing in the world he could do would be to go down there right now.

But all he can see is how pale floyd is getting, and the terrifying translucence of the tips of his fingers, and-

And. if he goes down there he’ll be useless to save floyd.

He’ll have to just figure out some other way to get floyd out

“We’ll have to keep him with us now, i guess, since theres some little critters running around. We don’t want them bothering our little guest”

Anxiety starts to choke Branch and he tries to push it down. Okay, that complicates things, but it’s fine. It’ll be fine. He’ll still manage to save Floyd. Before it’s too late

He can’t pull himself away from the edge of the vent. He realizes he’s been edging closer and closer on his stomach, out of the shadows, desperate just to see Floyd for a moment longer

Velvet looks around. She sees a shadow in the vent and grins to herself

“Well we’ve gotta get going to our next show. Time for a quick spritz”

She sprays herself

Floyd lifts up from the force of it, eyes rolling back in pain. His body shudders once with the wave, then goes boneless as he drops to the bottom of the bottle

“NO-“ the scream rips through Branch’s throat before he can catch it. Velvet looks at the vent with a predatory look in her eye. Floyd looks dazed and terrified on Branch’s behalf

Velvet takes one predatory step forward and instinctively Branch yells “DON’T MOVE”

Velvet stops, seemingly more out of surprise than anything else. She laghs. “Why should i troll? What’re you gonna do? Sing at me?”

“I’ll disappear into the vents” Branch says with much more confidence than he feels. “By the time you get to me, i can be deep enough that you won’t be able to grab me.”

Velvet frowns, eyes scanning the distance between them, but she dosn’t move forward

“Why not just run off then?” Veneer asks, though it sounds more genuinely confused, lacking his sister’s mocking undertone

Floyd is looking at him with a furrowed brow, confusion evident on his face as he struggles to figure out what branch is doing, even as he leans limply against the side of the bottle

“I have a proposition for you. A trade.”

“Branch, no!” Floyd yells as he figures it out

“Trade for what?”

“For me. You free Floyd, and you can use me instead.”

“Branch, leave, please.” Floyd begs.

Branch ignores him, resolutely pushing down the fear in his chest

Velvet seems to be considering. “Why should I trade?”

“Um… I won't die as fast?” Branch offers, caught off guard. He didn’t expect he’d need to convince her to kidnap him.

“Maybe, but pinkie here is pretty powerful. How do I know you’ll be anywhere near as strong?”

Branch hesitates then forces himself move forward “I’m stronger.”

“No he’s not! He’s terrible!” Floyd insists

“Excuse me?” Branch shoots back, indigent and caught off guard

But Floyd’s not looking at him hes talking to velvet. “He’s awful. If you use him you’ll sound like-” he grasps for how to convince them ”like a broken chalkboard, or nails in a clock, or- or a crying bird!”

“You’re mixing metaphors, babe” Veneer tells him

“Or something! It’ll be bad, okay??” floyd insists desperately

branch feels irrationally a bit hurt because he knows floyd is only saying that to protect him. He takes a deep breath, pushing down all the fear and hurt

“No it won’t. I have the voice of an angel.

Velvet raises an eyebrow. “Prove it.”

He sings a few bars

“Deal.” Velvet agrees to the trade

Now there’s the problem of actually doing the trade

They tell him to come down, he says no you’ll take us both, gimme floyd and then ill come down, they accuse him of the same thing, they agree on branch standing on the edge of the vent and them putting floyd next to him as they pick him up

They do it and branch tries not to shake in fear

They let Branch help Floyd into the vent because he’s so weak, but both Velvet and Veneer are hovering so close and they’ve figured out how to shut some of the vents so even if he wanted to leave he couldn’t

As floyd is placed down he beggs branch “branch please don’t do this, please.”

Branch can’t look at him. He wishes he had something, anything to say

Floyd’s hair wraps around his wrist weakly, it’s all Floyd can manage. Branch just gently takes it off and keeps going

As he steps into velvets hand he tries his best for a comforting smile. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

This time, when one of them walks away, they both know he’s lying

Note: that’s what I have so far! Cue very sick Floyd watching his brother suffer and desperately trying to save him while so weak.

Maybe I’ll continue if ppl like this maybe I’ll finish editing this into something a bit cleaner but we’ll see! Honestly depends if people are interested bc I have other stuff I really should be working on but the trolls hyperfixation hit me with a frying pan and dragged me into the fandom in a burlap sack.

#trolls #trolls band together #branch trolls #velvet and veneer #trolls floyd

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bepoets · 2 months

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🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

TRISH PLEASE THERES 40 ROSES HERE🤣😭 instead of giving you 40 sentences from one WIP I’m gonna give you 4 sentences for 10 different ted/rebecca fic WIPs because why not😌 under a read more because it is terribly long lol

1. a little something from my kind of sort of not really Matilda au!!

She’s looking up at Rebecca with wide eyes, glistening with tears. Her eyes remind Rebecca very suddenly of Ted’s. They’re the same warm brown, filled with a hopefulness she has grown to associate with only Ted. One look at the girl’s big, pleading eyes and Rebecca knows, if this was her child she’d never be able to say no to her.

2. from a post canon thing about Ted being depressed in Kansas and Rebecca drunk calling him in the middle of the night

“Move on from who?” The question is out of his mouth before he even has a chance to really think it over and realize exactly how stupid it was to ask that, on a variety of different levels.

Rebecca groans, and he can picture her with her fingertips pressed to her temples.

“This was a mistake. I am not supposed to tell you.”

3. from another post canon thing where Ted starts dreaming about past moments with a Rebecca but through a Very Romantic Lens and he has a tizzy about it

“Good dreams, then?”

He starts to nod his head in agreement before shaking it in a staunch no, only to stop a second after to stare off into space again. His eyes glued to a wall just beyond his phone where Sharon is pulled up on a video call.

4. from rusty swing fic my beloved that I haven’t worked on in Months oh god I’m so sorry rusty swing fic, I’ll come back to you one day

She knows that every time they have a disagreement, whether she bears the brunt of the blame or not, her parents simply wait her out. Let her stew in her displeasure for a few hours, days, weeks. Until they’ve decided — without any input from Rebecca herself — that everything is back to normal.

Sometimes she thinks maybe they can only really hear her when she’s yelling.

5. a little missed connections soulmate au

By the time she’s twenty Rebecca’s heard just about every romantic iteration of a soulmate bond taking place. It’s supposed to be life changing, a moment you can feel throughout your entire body. The stars aligning and a moment of pure magic in an ordinary world.

She supposes it only makes sense that the whole thing would be rather anticlimactic in the end.

6. something from a post s2e6 soulmate au because I like seeing how many soulmate aus I can write without finishing any😌

She wants to cradle his face in her hands and breathe kindness and safety into him. To shine a little flashlight when he’s trapped in the darkest places, waiting with her arms wide open for whenever he’s ready. She wants to warm his hands in hers and help stitch up every wound that lingers on his heart. Even if it should leave her own hands stained and bloody.

7. in which Michelle and Henry assumed Ted & Rebecca were dating. So obviously the only logical reaction is for Ted & Rebecca to pretend to date.

He should be paying attention, he wants to be paying attention. He’d love nothing more than to be able to hear what’s going on, but the ringing won’t stop. It’s a dull but persistent hum clouding over all his senses. The only thoughts rattling through his mind are the words Michelle said just before everything went all fuzzy.

8. from my little combination gala & wedding fic that Henry has wormed his way into out of nowhere

The dark green dress apparently looks like the color of split pea and ham soup, and Henry makes her swear on her morning biscuit delivery that she won’t wear that one. She tries to show it a little support, the color may be unfortunate but the dress is in a cut she absolutely loves. But Henry only shakes his head and says “it’s the worst color of all, Becca, you gotta promise.” And so she does, holding out her pinky finger for Henry to hook his around.

9. excerpt from a little thing that has no plot beyond Rebecca being sexy when she’s bossy

“Can you?” Rebecca’s tongue slips out of the corner of her mouth, wets her lips, and now she’s smirking and fuck. Ted can’t look away. Every thought completely gone, focused entirely on how enticing her lips look.

But Ted’s pretty sure she asked him a question. And he’s never been one to keep a pretty lady waiting, even if his brain is a bit scrambled at the moment.

10. from a weird little fantasy medieval Rebecca as a queen Ted as a baker in town type thing

It isn’t one of the nights where his deepest worries and fears are running through his mind like a hoard of wild horses. It’s a perfectly normal night, after a perfectly normal day. His hands are not trembling, and he takes each breath with remarkable ease. He’s counted sheep, he’s recited recipes in his head, he’s even hummed a lullaby — or five — all to no avail.

#thank you Trish lol I hope you enjoy your 40 sentences #ask game #my writing #ted lasso fic #ted x rebecca

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urmomification · 2 years

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spiderman steve au

- he lives in new york w his roommate billy

- they're more just roommates than actual friends, they aren't close but sometimes watch movies together etc

- billy notices that steve is weirdly secretive but mostly plays it up to him just being like that just kinda assumes that steve just likes his privacy

- steve Always keeps his bedroom locked when he's in there and the door closed when he isn't

- steve intentionally playing stupid to keep people off his trail (he makes all his own tech and stuff)

- steve will come home w an array of green yellow and purple bruises and cuts and never talks abt it

- one time he comes home w just abt the worst black eye billy's ever seen (and he's seen a lot)

- steve always plays it off tho, saying he tripped or something that clearly isn't true

- billy never presses it bc honestly he doesnt care enough to (doesnt stop him from being extraordinarily curious tho)

- like how is this pretty boy getting his shit rocked every other night and having nothing but shitty lies to cover it up

- honestly the only reason steve is so bad at lying is bc hes not used to having a roommate but money was tight so here he was

- billy would rather die than admit it but he loves spiderman, thinks hes a total badass

- steve always tries to change the subject when he comes up, billy just thinks steve doesn't like him

- eventually it goes from steve coming home beat up at 2am and shuffling to the bathroom by himself to billy waking up whenever he gets home to keep him company to billy even helping sometimes when steve is especially beat up

- one night tho steve gets absolutely destroyed (like several broken ribs, stabbed, probably a concussion, etc. its not pretty)

- its a fight for his life just to make it back to their apartment, each swing tugging on something here and tearing something there

- as he works his way back to their place he cant see straight, hes exhausted, one arm wrapped around his stomach, an is mostly just swinging bc of the momentum he has

- makes it top of the a building a few down from his and can see his and billy's window to their living room and the rickety fire escape up the side of the building

- hardly makes it there, swinging directly into the side of the fire escape, rattling what feels like the whole building, and rolling over the side to lay on the grates

- heaves a few breaths and steels himself to stand up

- peels his hand off his stomach to survey the damage, hes in really bad shape, abdomen and arm covered in blood, suit sliced open in several spots, he can feel bruises forming just about everywhere on him

- he pulls himself off the fire escape and leaning heavily on the railings, makes it to their window and slides it as far open as it goes before literally falling thru it

- he groans and lies on the ground for another few moments before standing up again and putting practically all his weight on the wall

- (hes still in his suit too, itd be too risky to change w the chance of the fabric ripping open his wounds again, hes aware of how stupid this is (coming home w his suit on w knowledge that billy will probably wake up and come to at least check on him) but hes honestly more worried for his life at this point)

- 'bathroom bathroom bathroom bathroom' is the only thing going thru his head as he goes from the wall to the back of the couch to the hall where he needs to pause to keep himself from puking right then and there w how violently his vision is swimming

- he rips his mask off and bringing it to his stomach as another thing to apply pressure w (also so he doesnt puke in it. gross)

- steve wouldve picked up on it sooner if it weren't for the ringing in his ears but spider sense tells him someones here

- he pries his head off the wall to see billy's door swing open and him step into the hall in pj pants rubbing at his eyes

- he knows its too dark for billy to see him right now, but hes breathing like theres a car on his chest so theres no doubt that billy will notice him within a few seconds

- as soon as billy's hand drop from his eye, he stiffens as he finally notices the breathing and 'steve? that u?'

- all steve can do is grunt, jaw clamped so tightly shut to keep from retching what might be left in his stomach up onto the carpet hes bleeding onto

- 'dude where are u' billy mumbles as he reaches for the light switch by slapping his arm against the wall until he finds it

- steve sees this and knows if that light comes on hes doomed but he cant move and the bathroom door is situated nearly perfectly between them, so hes really got no where to go

- the light flicks on

- 'what the fuck'

- steve's head feels like its now about to implode then explode comically onto the walls of their apartment

- he squeezes his eyes shut and starts to blindly scramble towards the bathroom, feeling his whole stomach start to turn upside down

- practically throwing himself onto the hard tile in front of the toilet before heaving like theres something trying to get out of him

- billy slowly walks up to the bathroom door, still not 100% sure he saw that right (spider man (also steve?)(???)) standing (leaning) in his hall looking like hed just been run over by about 4 monster trucks

- he peeks his head in to see steve's head almost fully in the toilet bowl, mostly just the torn suit and mask on the floor being visible, breathing like he'll never fully catch his breath again

- billy practically runs to the kitchen to grab the biggest cup of water known to man before bringing it back to the bathroom for steve

- at this point, steve's stomach has evened out, but he is eyes remain closed and his head is resting on the rim of the toilet, spitting once to get the gunk out of his mouth

- billy tentatively knocks against the door 'uh, hey man. i got, uh, i got you some water?'

- steve grunts, peels his right arm off his stomach (revealing the mangled mess of suit and skin and blood there) to reach for the cup

- billy nearly drops it when he sees steve's stomach

- lets steve take a few sips before 'steve man what the hell happened let me look at u'

- billy flushes the toilet and kneels in front of steve, pushes him against the wall so he's leaning back instead

- 'how the hell do i get this off steve' grabbing at the suit

- 'hargrove, leave me alone'

- 'like hell im not leaving u alone like this' gives up on the suit to dig thru the cabinet to find the first aid kit

- he hears steve hiss and then groan from behind him and he turns to see steve working the suit off down to his hips

- billy's head spins a little with how much blood is left on steve's hands and stomach when he settles back against the wall

- he shuffles back over

- 'ok first things first, concussion check'

- 'i can tell u i have a concussion, billy, i got hit in the head w a crowbar like i was a fucking baseball'

- billy winces 'ok perfect. awesome. did u get fucking stabbed too? what the hell happened'

- a short nod, 'yeah that too. probably the more pressing issue.'

- 'jesus, uh. ok, yeah. i can do this' billy starts digging the thru the first aid to find wipes

- 'this is about to sting like a mother fucker but i need to see where ur cut and where there's just blood' and starts on steve's face, dabbing at the crusted blood there

- steve winces once but from then on clenches his jaw and focuses on a point on the wall just above billy's head

- billy gets to his stomach and takes a break to check in w steve, hands him the water again

- 'well, good news is there's not many deep cuts and they seem to mostly closed up already which is, interesting'

- 'i heal quickly, i was more worried abt taking another hit than i was bleeding out on the street'

- 'good lord man'

- steve takes a deep breath and straightens up against the wall before looking down at himself

- 'yea i should be good now honestly. if i get this wrapped up and go to bed i should be at least a bit better by morning. uh, thanks. u can go back to bed'

- steve reaches for the gauze and wrappings before billy snatches them up and holds them out of his reach

- 'there's no way in hell that im gonna leave u here to clean urself up, u Literally. Almost died. im staying to help u'

- 'billy. go back to bed im fine'

- 'no'

- 'billy'

- 'im not leaving u alone to deal w this'

- 'i don't need ur help'

- 'maybe not but ur getting it' billy sets down the gauze and starts patting around on steve's chest checking for where the broken ribs are

- steve sucks in a breath and mutters 'yeah some of those r definitely broken.' knocks his head against the wall 'there's not much either of us can do about that part, they'll fix themselves in a day or so'

- 'i don't even wanna know how u know that'

- steve chuckles

- 'ok. i'm gonna wipe u down again ur like, still covered in blood.' billy turns around to grab a washcloth

- steve's eyes are closed and his breathing has (thankfully) evened out a bit

- billy starts on his face again then works down his neck and shoulders then each arm and hand then down his chest to the wound on his stomach that has practically fully stopped bleeding by now (he stops there to marvel at it a little) (definitely not to watch steve breath for a moment)

- 'ok ur all cleaned up now for the most part, can u get the rest of ur, uh. getup? off? for me'

- 'if u wanted to get in my pants hargrove u should've just asked' steve cracks an eye open and grins at him before peeling himself away from the wall to start wiggling the suit down his legs

- billy looks away to get more wipes and rinse out the washcloth before he turns back to see steve in nothing but a pair of black boxers, long legs stretched out across the tile and the suit lying over the side of the tub next to him

- he looks for just a moment too long

- 'picture'll last longer'

- 'sorry'

- honestly if billy's being honest this is a little too close to a wet dream for him

- he crouches down, starting my steve's ankles (not trusting himself to faced directly w steve's crotch and thighs)

- slowly works his way his knees on both legs before looking up at steve when he presses the wipe to his thigh

- steve is watching his hands with a hooded tired look and it drives a hot nasty feeling down billy's spine and his face flushes just a bit before he rushes a bit thru finishing

- sits back and grabs the wrap again

- 'can u sit up? im gonna wrap u up now'

- 'mm' steve mumbles but shoves himself off the wall to sit up at least a bit straight

- billy leans in and steve moves his hands over his head to make room

- billy makes quick work of wrapping and tying everything up before he sits back on his knees

- 'there. all fixed up' he hands steve the water one more time, billy gets up to start fishing for pain killers

- 'high strength stuff is in my room, i'll grab it there' steve mutters as he tries to shimmy off the floor

- billy walks back over and helps him up

- 'sounds good to me pretty boy, let's get u to bed'

- with steve's arm around billy's shoulders, they shuffle out of the small bathroom into the small hall and into steve's small bedroom

- he sits steve down on the edge of his bed before turning around to go refill the water

- comes back and steve is still sitting up but his head is drooped slighting forward and his eyes r closed

- billy walks up to him and pats his cheek a few times 'cmon stay w me for a few more minutes then u can go to sleep ok? where're the pain killers?'

- ' top draw, desk'

- billy grabs them (they're prescription, he wonders how he got his hands on them)

- hands the pills to steve followed by the water 'ok lay down, carefully get settled i'll be right back'

- billy goes back to his room and grabs his blanket off his bed and a hoodie and by the time he's back steve is totally out cold

- billy pulls his hoodie on and sits w his back against the bed and rests his temple on steve's nightstand and pulls his blanket over him before falling asleep right there

- steve wakes up first somehow, and pushes himself to sit up

- he goes to get up but he sees billy curled up on his floor w his own blanket pulled up around his chin and he's drooling a little against the nightstand he's still leaning against

- steve blinks for a few seconds, trying to remember Why. Billy was laying there

- he scoots around him and hobbles to the bathroom

- sees his mask on the floor and suit on the tub before all (most) of it comes back to him

- billy knows

- he leans on the sink to process that for a second before splashing some water on his face and makes his way back to his bedroom

- kinda just stands in the doorway and just kinda looks at billy in his space, deciding he doesn't hate the idea of billy knowing

- potentially even ok with billy knowing

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things #this was NOT supposed to be this long #spiderman au #love the idea of them going from hesitant friends to partners in crime (not literally)#steve wouldn't let billy come along obviously #have not proofread this either sorry #idk how to add a cut on mobile so i'll edit it when im on my computer so it doesn't take up like 4 miles of screen space guys don't worry

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

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The Little Bookshop

here’s my contribution for day 28--bookshop au. just one more story to go and i’ll be officially done with rowaelin month!!

cw: very light mention of female infertility. and verrrrrrrry light smutty language. (if theres any i missed, pls dont hesitate to let me know!)

2.7k words

enjoy!! :)

Aelin woke up surrounding by the arms of a furnace. That furnace being her six foot four husband. Normally, she would love waking up like this, but with summer arriving early and the very fact that she could spend all day like this despite the heat and the million things they had to do today it was not something Aelin could love at this very moment.

Kicking off the cotton sheets, Aelin tried to leave the bed but to no avail. Rowan's grip tightened in his sleep and he mumbled something that might have been “five more minutes”.

Knowing very well that “five more minutes” could turn into another hour, Aelin told her husband that she had to pee, otherwise she was going to wet the bed.

That worked, and Rowan planted a kiss between her shoulder blades as he turned over, facing the curtains.

A small mischievous smile found its way to Aelin's mouth as she quietly walked over to the cream blackout curtains and yanked them back, flooding their bedroom with the bright morning sun.

Rowan groaned at the rude interruption, flopping over on his stomach to avoid the sun. But Aelin simply back over and took the sheets and his pillow away from him (and because she could, she admired his muscled back, but soon came back to reality when all the things they had to do came flooding back).

“It's too early to be tortured like this,” Rowan mumbled, his green eyes finding hers. “And I thought you were about to wet yourself.”

Aelin gave him her best simpering smile. “A little lie. Now, get up, because we need to get started on the day.”

Grumbling at the sun still blinding him and the fact that he wife was always far too energetic in the morning, Rowan put on his summer slippers and shuffled into the kitchen behind his wife, who turned into a pale pink blur as she whirled around the kitchen, taking out the slow cooker and the dry ingredients for their dinner, the pumpkins and sweet potato and the peelers, and the Brussels sprouts that had to be halved. She rattled on about the guest room and the living room, going on and on and on.

They had been married for five years, together for seven, and Rowan still had no idea where she got all this energy in the morning from—especially considering that she would often tell people that she was not a morning person. He couldn't even comprehend most of what she was saying until he had his water and coffee.

After downing his water and turning on the coffee pot, Rowan heard Aelin muttered something about the roof gutters needing cleaning as she peeled the sweet potatoes over the sink, Rowan gently placed his hands on her face and kissed her.

“Breathe,” was all he said.

“I don't have time to do something like that, there's just so much to do.”

Rowan kissed her again and again until Aelin relaxed to his touch slightly. “I know how important this day is to you,” he said to her gently, “for us and the store, but I promise that everything will be fine.”

Aelin dumped the sweet potato and peeler in the sink and wrapped her arms around his bare waist, hugging him tightly as she rested her head on his chest. Taking a deep breath, Aelin smelled the homely scent of Rowan. When she had first meet him, he had been a surly bastard, but she couldn't deny that he smelled good. It was the main thing that drew her to him, that he always smelled like home.

His personality, however, was abrupt as her own back then. But they had worked to better themselves, both individually and then as friends and then beyond, when that friendship turned into something more.

To this day, Aelin never thought that she would have married the scowling bookshop owner she met when she moved to Doranelle. That the man who she thought really shouldn't be in customer service would become the most important person to her. She often told people that Rowan was her soulmate, that there was no better word to describe what he was to her.

Rowan ran his hand up and down her cotton-clad back, the motion always making her melt. “It's just,” she found herself saying after long minutes, “this is such an important day not just for us, but for Elide. It's her first book tour and I want it to go well. I would hate it if something went wrong.”

“Nothing will go wrong,” Rowan assured his wife.

“Unless you've developed psychic abilities overnight,” Aelin said, her voice taking on her snarky tone when she was getting stressed, “there is not possible way you could know that.”

“No, I have not developed clairvoyant skills, but I know that things will work out because you were there every step of the way planning this event with Elide and her team, it will work out spectacularly.” He had helped when he could, but Aelin was best at planning things in their relationship. She knew when things needed to be better or more organised, her passion for creating eventful nights making them unforgettable—like his thirty-fifth birthday; months later and he was still finding eco-friendly glitter in their apartment. It was her passion that made the shop better, that made it inviting and comforting. Her passion helped Rowan to fall in love with the store he inherited from his late parents again. He had been weeks away from deciding to sell when Aelin first arrived, her golden hair practically blinding him from how brightly it shined.

Rowan didn't really like her at first (he didn't really like anyone back then), because she was just so damned loud and kept buying books that he loathed to restock because that meant dealing with people and orders and delivery drivers when all he wanted to do was to be left alone and look for work that didn't have to deal with the general public.

But things slowly started to change during her visits, when he was actually looking forward to her coming over instead of dreading it. Their friendship had started in the most unexpected of ways—the day that Aelin had purchased a book about living with infertility, and Rowan had sensed that if he said the wrong thing, then she would lash out from her vulnerability; so Rowan confessed to her that he had his own cousin, Sellene, had issues with fertility, but lived a completely well-rounded life and was happy.

The smile that Aelin gave Rowan when he said that...he would never forget it in a million years. It was full of relief, that he wasn't going to go on a tangent about how she wasn't trying hard enough to fix her fertility—all the shitty things he had overheard his older relatives say to Sellene.

And instead of leaving after buying her book, Aelin stayed and they talked until he closed, and hours after that, Aelin ordering pizza in the middle of it and they both devoured the food, and he walked her home. Aelin came over twice a day after that, until Rowan finally gathered the courage to ask her out, and here he was seven years later.

Rowan kissed her once more. “And if things go terribly wrong, then I'll help you forget.”

Aelin raised a golden brow. “And how will you do that?”

Rowan smirked and nipped her jaw. “With my teeth and tongue, Fireheart.” He chuckled at the sudden intake of breath from his wife and planted kisses along the column of her throat. Aelin leaned into him, but he moved away, grabbing his coffee to get the newspaper out front.

With a wink, he left his flustered wife, laughing under his breath when she called him a buzzard.

It was going to be a good day.

X X X X X X

It was the busiest Friday they had in several weeks, and Aelin wondered if it was because they knew that Elide was having her author talk that very night, and maybe some were hoping to meet her for free—but Elide wasn't going to be in the shop for hours. The last time Elide had texted her, she and Lorcan were going to lunch.

Sometimes, she couldn't believe her friend was a fully-fledged author. It was both of their dreams, and Aelin was utterly ecstatic that Elide had the courage to send her books out into the world. It was still Aelin's dream, but she was constantly doubting herself, and would talk herself down from pursuing that path.

One day, hopefully, she would learn to tell herself to shut up and reach out to potential publishers.

Finishing up her gift-wrapping, Aelin handed over the bundle of books to her latest customer when she overheard giggling.

It didn't take her long to find the source of the sound. Two teenage girls were currently ogling Rowan as he reached up to a high shelf for a short customer, his shirt rising up to expose a good amount of tanned, muscled skin.

Honestly, Aelin couldn't blame the girls. It was often she noticed this when she was on the shop floor, as she was often in the back dealing with the financial aspect of the business when she wasn't at her actual job at Doranelle University Library, but she had taken the last two weeks off to ensure that everything went well for this event tonight.

As long as adults didn't do it, she couldn't care less, otherwise she often felt like some damned territorial beast on the verge of baring her teeth and snapping at people to not undress her husband with her eyes.

Rowan liked it when she got territorial, and wished she did it more often.

Oblivious to the girls giggling, her husband kept reaching for more and more books, his skin on continuous display.

Maybe she should take more time off at work, since the views here were much better than looking at the faces of exhausted students.

Smiling, Aelin helped the next customer.

X X X X X X

Aelin's leg was bouncing anxiously next to Rowan, his wife fidgeting with her hands, swirling her emerald and gold ring around and around her finger.

In turn, it was making him nervous because seeing Aelin nervous set his whole system on fire—it was a rare sight to see her like this, but no matter how many encouraging words he would say, she wouldn't be calm until everything was done and went off without a hitch.

They were sitting in the front row, all the seats around and behind them full of eagerly awaiting fans to hear Elide talk about her new book in her series, their excitement-filled chatter reaching his ears. Lorcan was in the back, because Aelin had told him that while she liked that he was going on the book tour with Elide, his considerable height would be blocking people's view of Elide. To which he responded that people came to see Elide to hear her talk, not to look at her.

The scathing look from Aelin had Lorcan rolling his eyes but he went to the back, his considerable height no longer an issue—although Rowan did feel bad for the girl that was sitting behind him, considering he was six-four and broad, but there was no doubt that Aelin would let him move, so he stayed and would do his best not to ruin the night for those that he was blocking.

When Rowan noticed that it was 6:55, he brushed a kiss on Aelin's cheek and wished her luck as she went up to the spot where Elide would be talking, with Aelin asking the questions.

“Breathe,” he mouthed to her, and Aelin did, and as soon as she opened her mouth, the words came out smoothly and without a hint of her nerves—just as he knew they would.

X X X X X X

The night was a success, just like Rowan said and would be, and Aelin was still giddy hours later. After the talk, she helped take photos of fans with Elide, got out all the sharpies that she had purchased recently from the grocery store to ensure that Elide didn't run out of ink—because people wanted her to sign all of the books they owned by here and Elide was more than happy to do so.

Afterwards, Elide and Lorcan followed Aelin and Rowan into their apartment upstairs for dinner and Aelin was feeling just a little bit wine drunk, but she was just happy that everything worked out well and that Elide got to live her dreams.

Aelin and Rowan were currently down stairs, tidying up as they usually did just before they went to bed, with Rowan taking mental notes of all the shelves that were practically empty—because while people were waiting in line to get Elide's signature, they browsed the store and filled their colourful tote bags with mountains of books.

He wasn't complaining, but he still didn't like having to deal with restocking, but he would live.

Aelin was gazing dreamily at the cutout of the main character of Elide's story when Rowan came up next to her. “You could do it, you know,” Rowan said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“I know,” was all she said.

“Then why don't you?” He read her stuff all the time, and maybe he was biased because she was his wife and soulmate, but he fucking loved her work, loved the detailed writing and descriptions that made it feel as if he was in the world she made up. But she knew how much he loved her stories, so instead of repeating himself, he said, “Elide could help you. She's been in the industry for a while now. So I'm sure whatever question you have, she can answer.”

“I know,” she said again, still just staring at the cutout. She turned to him, a determined look on his face. “How about we make a deal.”

Rowan raised a brow. “Okay...?” it wasn't often that Aelin included him in her schemes, usually preferring to shock him into an early grave.

She gave him a smile that told him she had been thinking about her idea for a while now, and was just waiting for the perfect moment to reveal it. “You start selling your drawings and I'll talk to Elide.”

“What drawings?” he said instantly, the years of having to hide to drawings from his nosy cousins still annoyed him and any mention of them had him wanting to deny he ever knew how to hold a pencil—not that his drawings were ever crude but nothing was sacred in the Whitethorn house he lived in after the death of his parents.

Aelin scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I've been with you for seven years, I've seen you drawing—they even line our walls. You start selling them—we have plenty of empty frames hanging around—and I'll talk to Elide. Deal?”

It only took him a single heartbeat to realise why she was offering him this. Rowan's drawings were personal, as were her stories, so if Aelin had to open herself like that by giving the world her stories, then he could give away little pieces of himself, too.

“Deal,” he said because he would staple his drawings all over the city if it helped Aelin get her foot in the door, to help her with her dream that he knew she could achieve.

Her face deflated for just a second before she righted herself. Clearly, she wasn't expecting him to agree so quickly. But if she wanted to take her time, then he would give her all the time in the world.

“Deal,” Aelin said and even held her hand out. Rolling his eyes playfully, Rowan shook her hand.

When Aelin went to drop his hand, he lingered, and brought her closer to him. With a smirk, Rowan said, “I can think of a better way to close our agreement.”

Aelin raised an eyebrow. “And how would you do that?”

“With my teeth and tongue, Fireheart,” he said, repeating his words from earlier this morning.

Aelin crashed her mouth onto his, and Rowan closed their deal right in the middle of the shop floor, not at all caring that their friends were right above them.

Aelin thanked the gods that she had come into this shop over seven years ago to escape the boredom of her old apartment. Thank the rutting gods for bringing the ever-scowling man into her life.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work

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doodlesnchaos · 2 years

Text

One, Two, Three

Summary: Multiversal Mayhem AU. In which the very first meeting of all three.

TW: Mild swearing (at the end)

————————————————————

Two figures stood near one another, surveying the nighttime liviness of the city below. One figure clad in varying shades of blues and greens, the other in varying shades of red.

“Do you think there’s another one here?”

“Highly probable, just the one here would be different compared to you or I. The only question is just where the Spider of this one is at.”

“Well no way there's another one of me. Or you. Based on that whole lecture you gave about the time stuff. Leaves only one person.”

“Anne?”

“Duh.”

“One that would be uh-mazing. Two, where’d we find her here? I mean this world seems parallel just dunno how far parallel it is.”

“Just start looking.”

“Well where do we start first?”

“Leap of faith and hope for the best.”

“Wow–super ominous sounding.”

“Relax, it’ll be fine.” Red spoke smoothly, stepping towards the edge of the building, turning around to face the other, arms spread out like an eagle. Head tilted just slightly, masked gaze unfaltering before they fell backwards.

“Dramatic as ever.” Blue huffed with a shake of head before jumping after the other.

******

Anne was puzzled to say the least. Three messages she had sent to Marcy, one to Sasha, and still nothing had come back yet. Gloved hand picked at the mask in mild anxiousness. It’s not like this wasn’t a normal occurrence, yet it just hadn’t happened in a while. As such, she continued her pacing, uncertainty not faltering from within her chest.

A low buzz filled her ears, attention snapping away. Nothing was up tonight, rather mellow for once, so what was happening–

“So, you really are the Spider here.” came the nonchalant comment, right as a figure landed a few feet away from her. Only catch was they had been using a web and their outfit was almost a mirror image of hers–to a certain degree. Yet that voice was all too familiar.

“Sash’--?” Anne started before getting interrupted again

“I knew it! Oh this is so cool–Hi Anne!” another voice chimed in, only this time it came from another figure hanging upside down off the water tower. Once again the voice was too familiar and Anne took a step back. Marcy.

“This is some type of delirium or something—just no–no.” Anne rattled quickly, fingers flexing.

“Whoa–whoa, don’t panic, not yet at least. I might be able to explain!” Marcy’s voice ushered quickly, flipping down and onto her feet.

“Cliffnotes version this time.” Sasha voice commented pointedly

Not as though it was helping whatsoever–no. Instead Anne felt this chilling panic starting to form that something was very very wrong.

“Rude,” Marcy’s voice huffed, “Anyways—obviously I’m Marcy, he’s Sasha butttt we aren’t yours. He’s from a different world, so am I. Hence how the three of us each kinda have the same abilities, I think–that’s still up in the air—anyways something seemed to have happened in your world which in turn brought us here but its like jenga almost where the pieces gotta be carefully switched around otherwise the whole tower comes down and given all that it only made sense for us to find you because clearly theres something particular about you here that brought us here.”

Anne only half heard what this Marcy voice was saying to her, preoccupied with disbelief at the duo in front of her.

One, where Sasha’s voice seemed to come from. The suit seemed almosted armored, the separation between the plating obvious.The layering between a gray base and the red accenting. Even the gloves seemed to have a level of plating surrounding them.

Two, where Marcy’s voice seemed to come from. The suit was unlike one she’d seen, or even one that her Marcy templated. A hoodie style from what it looked like. Contrasting from the others reds and grays, hers held blues and greens. The plated gloves once again, only with the addition of padding on her shoulders and knees. A utility belt looking thing wrapped around the waist and upper left arm.

Anne shook her head, attempting to mentally pull herself together. The red one looked at her with a tilted head, lenses squinting at her.

“I told you, cliffnotes version. I think you gave this one a brain spasm.”

“Did not! Plus that was the cliffnotes version compared to the one I told you!”

“Yeah—let’s go with that.” Red huffed before pulling their mask off with one head.

Short, messy blonde hair, scars littering the face, the almost cocky smirk.

“Sasha Waybright.” he stated causally pointing at himself before pointing at the other, “Marcy Wu. Each a variant of you–somewhat.”

Blue gave a small grumble before pulling over their own mask. Short raven hair curling right around the edges, brown eyes glimmering with excitement, a flash of a smile replaced with a half-hearted pout.

“You made it sound so basic.”

Anne stood in silence, forgetting she had a voice for a moment. The two in front were exactly like her two, yet at the same time not. The not part being semi-obvious. It was a moment of awkward silence, all three looking between one another.

“If you two are here—then where are my two.” Anne spoked slowly, processing what was in front of her, pulling off her own mask as she spoke.

“If my thinking is right, each version of us,” Marcy answered, pointing back and forth between her and Sasha, “Should be in our place. Which would prevent time from breaking—kinda—I haven’t gotten to fully figure it out.”

“Which means, until we get back to our world, we’re staying in yours.” Sasha added on, arms folding over her chest.

“This is crazy. Absolutely crazy.” Anne mumbled under her breath, tangling one hand within her curls.

“Believe me, I thought the same thing when I first came across this one.” Sasha retorted causally, jabbing a thumb in Marcy’s direction. Anne looked between the two, hand tightening, before there full level panic of the situation.

“I don’t even know how I brought you here—let alone send you back, or bring my Marcy and Sasha. Oh god what if they get themselves killed somehow or they stay stuck in wherever they are and you two are here what am I going to tell Marcy’s family or Sasha’s girlfriend and dad. Or my family shit where are you two supposed to stay if your with me for too long is that bad oh god what if i just broke time shit is that even a thing–”

Sasha and Marcy both watched the down spiral, each sharing an uncertain look.

“I get the left, you get the right.”

#multiversal mayhem #amphibia #sasha waybright #marcy wu #anne boonchuy

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runawayballista · 2 years

Text

its time for…… more wawa au posting because i don’t want to forget any of this. here’s more robin/lon’qu backstory. continued from here. here's the part where they commit perjury so lon'qu can use a power saw

when robin is crashing at lon'qu's place she catches sight of him working on building a chair or whatever and finds out that he exclusively works with hand tools because he doesn't have access to a workshop or like. a place to use power tools. (or the money to buy good power tools.) and she's like hmmm, pretty sure there's a workshop on my campus, i wonder if you could use that? turns out that you need a school ID to get into the campus workshop. can lon'qu get a school ID? well, faculty can get ID cards for their spouses or domestic partners

"are you together?" asks the person at the workshop. "yes" robin says immediately, because she's helping, and lon'qu chokes on his tongue so hard he starts coughing uncontrollably

apparently you can't just say you're a couple who lives together. you need some kind of proof , like, a joint lease or something. they do not have that. the person at the ID card center says "well, here's an affidavit can swear on in front of a notary to sign that says you're in a relationship and you live together and you can use that as proof". halfway to the notary office lon'qu is like hang on. this is madness. we are about to go illegally swear that we live together for a university ID card. like it's not the crime part he cares about, whatever, it's just, this is absurd. how did he so thoroughly lose control of this day?? and robin is like hm... wow... yeah, haha, i guess this is going kind of far just to get you access to a woodshop! you're right, let's call it a day. lon'qu thinks about power tools for another 5 seconds and is like no. we've already come this far let's just. get this over with

this is excruciating for him but by god he wants to be able to use a power saw again. i think maybe when basilio first met lon'qu he had a contracting company or something and lon'qu did a bunch of carpentry work when he was young, idk, something like that. anyway after a very long and weird day lon'qu has this ID card that says he is a "PARTNER / SPOUSE" that will get him into the workshop and robin promises she is not going to actually go tell people they are dating. lon'qu, remembering that robin mentioned how much of her furniture got damaged when her apartment flooded, finishes up the project he was working on and then builds robin a new bookshelf. it seems like he should thank her somehow, this seems appropriate, right. he just texts robin "i'm coming over" with no other context and robin is like ??? until lon'qu shows up in his pickup truck like "i made you this". when robin is clearly delighted by it lon'qu has an involuntary facial spasm other people call a "smile"

theres so much of this rattling around in my brain its absurd

#fembles #fe13 #fire emblem awawakening #the absolute stupidest purpose for short-term fake dating imaginable #robin #lon'qu #robin/lon'qu

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

Text

April Contest Submission #10: Green Like Flowers

Words: ca. 4,000 Setting: Modern AU Lemon: No CW: mild angst

The train whistled as it left the station. A piercing scream, cutting through the dewy darkness of early morning. Birds, startled awake from their nightly slumber, took to the sky. Fleeing like their wings were on fire, up and away from branches that were all but safe a few moments before. Their small black bodies quickly lost to a sky that had not yet been kissed by an unforgiving sun.

The engine chugged, rhythmically turning large, cold steel wheels. Pulling both itself and its posy of railcars along with it. Quickly picking up speed, outside one of the windows; a dog ran alongside the tracks. His tongue hanging outside his large muzzle, flopping with each bounding leap. He ran on a well-worn path, a frequent activity. The further the train went, the more he fell behind until Elsa could no longer see him. So too did the path fade. Giving way to leaf-covered ground and sparse trees. The click-clack of the train melted into nothing, like the ocean waves when one lives by the sea.

Elsa Settled into her seat but dared not to rest. Her mind racing fasting then the landscape outside the window. The train was still mostly empty, many seats were vacant. She glanced around, taking everything in without fear of looking creepy. The floor was carpet tiles, frayed on every edge but free of at least large debris. The seats, two on each side of the aisle, were a worn blue fabric. Each headrest was adorned with stark white doctor’s table paper. Fluorescent lightbulbs of varying shades of white and yellow had been illuminating the narrow walkways, now dimmed. Allowing the high-backed seats to cast long shadows.

A few rows back an older man sat slouched in his seat, his fedora, which had seen better days, was pulled down to cover his eyes. The ghost of a beard was painted across a jaw held tight by clenched teeth. Next to him, an older woman sat, knitting with the speed of a youth long past. She was counting to herself or perhaps singing. Her thin lips moving in unison with dancing needles. So the yarn was tugged and so too the corners of her mouth.

In another row a small child was fast asleep, curled into his’s mother’s side. The woman’s head tilted back, mouth agape. She wore what looked to be a brand new hoodie, a large sports logo plastered across the chest. It wasn’t a team Elsa recognized, the child shifted slightly, and they too wore a matching hoodie.

Elsa turned back so she was facing forward once more. She glanced out the smudged windows to see the faintest hint of light, peeking over the horizon. And she took a moment to marvel at the fact she had to travel North, then West, then South, then West again just to reach the opposite coast. All the years of human advancements and there still wasn’t a train that simply went East to West. Instead, it zig-zagged across rivers, over the plains, and through mountains.

A movement to her left caused her to turn. A man about her age sat restlessly in his seat. Large headphones completely engulfed his ears. One hand clutching a phone, the other gesturing wildly through the air - pointer finger and thumb fully extended with the remaining fingers ever so slightly curved inward. His voice was barely above a whisper, Elsa had to strain to hear the words which were choppy, loose, but forever moving forward like a rushing stream over stones.

Just then the door between cars slid open, spilling the outside in. Chains rattled, wind blew, the click-clack of the track demanded attention. And standing there, a young ember, sparking as intense eyes surveyed the nearly empty train car before settling on Elsa and finally flicking to the seat next to her. The door closed as if in agreement and the woman floated over. Two copper veins of braids framed a speckled face. She smiled and sat down without asking.

“I’m Anna,” she said, it wasn’t a comment or an introduction, it was a commanding statement. She was Anna and whoever she was, Elsa had no choice but to deal with the sudden intrusion.

“Elsa.” She replied, trying to match the other’s tone.

This earned a nod from Anna, her head tipping back, chin raised for a brief moment before landing in neutral again. Silence settled like a heavy fog. Elsa was never good at small talk. Through the defining silence, she heard the ticking of knitting needles and soft rap lyrics start again. Nothing from the mother or child, this new woman’s entrance had not been enough to wake them from slumber.

“Where are you headed?” Anna asked, keeping her voice low.

“San Francisco,” Elsa replied, trying to ignore how much the woman’s eyes stabbed right through her.

“Oh what?!?” she paused to take a breath and bring her volume back down. “I’m going there too, maybe we can be train buddies!”

And suddenly the flames that protected the young woman from the outside world parted and Elsa saw, not a commanding bitch of a woman, but an innocence - a kindness that she hadn’t seen in a person in a long time.

“Buddies,” Elsa repeated slowly as if tasting the word for the first time.

This earned another smile from Anna, who had either not noticed Elsa’s lack of enthusiasm or chose to ignore it.

“Well it’s what like, 15 days to get from here,” she pointed beyond Elsa to the series of trees whipping past the window. “Aaaall the way over to there. So I think, it would be nice to have someone to talk to, have meals with, maybe exchange playlists…”

“I mean I don’t know,” she pulled her arms in like pulling a trenchcoat closed. She dared not to let the demons out nor let any new evil in. She hated meeting new people, hated that period of time when stupid questions are asked. Hated, even more, when the friendship was temporary, formed for convenience rather than growth. Why spend all that time putting cereal in a bowl piece by price only to find out theres no milk.

Elsa was not yet old in the traditional sense, but she had lived many lifetimes. Broken enough hearts and had enough hearts be broken, both from love and friendship, to waste even more hourglass sand on the freckled book in the seat next to hers.

“No offense but I don’t really know you.”

Anna laughed, a full-bellied laugh that had her eye squeezed shut and her head tipped back against the paper covering the headrest. Elsa felt her face start to numb and fought the urge to bounce her leg. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip and she turned her head to study the trees.

“We can be train buddies while we get to know each other. Like, we might as well anyway, seeing as we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other anyways.”

Elsa didn’t turn her head, “It is a long train.”

“Yes and no, the length? Sure. But there’s the cargo cars, the sleeper cars, the dining cars, the private cars, and THEN there’s the passenger cars like this one. Sooo I think I’m gucci when I say; we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

“Gucci?” Elsa turned, pulled by the odd choice of word. She was met with yet another smile from her unwanted companion and she regretted turning at all.

“Yeah you know, ‘it’s gucci’ or ‘it’s all good’ same thing.” Anna shrugged but otherwise didn’t move, oblivious to Elsa’s inner turmoil and discomfort, instead, she used this as an opening. Like a racer who finally found a way to pass the leader.

“So, let’s just get all the weird basic stuff out of the way. I’m Anna like I said. I’m from Tennessee, born there, lived there, and went to school there. My favorite color is green. I don’t have any pets or siblings. My parents are divorced but they kinda get along. And I fly drones and do photos for realtors. In my spare time, I like watching movies and pretending to read.”

Behind them, the child resting against his mother stirred, his muffed words, likely exaggerated, were somehow loud enough to be heard over everything else. When his mother didn’t respond, he yawned louder till she awoke will a start. Immediately the child leapt up and took off running towards the door Anna came through. Elsa feared he would open it but he waited, bouncing on his heels till his mother, groggy with sleep and not yet aware of the world, shuffled over. Together they disappeared through the door.

“Aaaand you?” Anna asked. Elsa sighed, the reprieve caused by the commotion had ended and she found herself backed into a corner. She had to at least give some answer or she feared the girl would never leave.

“I’m Elsa, I am from the East Coast. I have a master’s degree. I enjoy the color blue.”

A few beats passed, the train clicking along the tracks. The sun was higher now, its warm beams reaching out at greedy fingers, casting golden whispers within the other girl’s braids.

“Wait, that’s it?”

“Yes.”

“I told you so much more. Are you one of the people who can’t open up and I have to ask a bunch of questions to get them to talk?”

Elsa flinched, she was one of those people. But she didn’t like being called out so directly like that.

Anna smirked, catching the flinch. “I’ll make it less of an interrogation and more of an exchange, so it’s not so scary, alright?”

Elsa nodded, it was actually a good solution to this trap she was in, as much as it pained her to admit that.

“I’m moving to San Francisco or the outskirts at least. What about you?”

“More or less, the same.”

“I have a job lined up with a big real estate firm downtown, I start at the end of the month. And you?”

“At the end of the month, I will be starting my job as well.”

Anna sighed and shifted in her seat, readying a new approach like a hunter with a spear. “So why the train?”

Elsa felt her face redden and she mumbled a quick “I just felt like it.”

And in the spear went, embedded deep within. Its jagged backwards teeth holding it in place. It wasn’t a good answer. It was a very bad answer, one that said too much without saying much at all.

“Oh come on, that’s not an answer!” Anna waited a beat for Elsa to answer before pressing further. “So I’ll ask again, why the train? And this time, no mumbling, I need you to say it… out loud.”

Elsa exhaled through her nose. And opened her mouth to speak before closing it again. She was at the crossroads of telling a stranger a lie or speaking the truth into existence for the first time. Giving a name to the shadow of guilt that hung over her, maybe it would let go and take with it this spear. Maybe still the light that so gently clung, in a smooth loving caress to Anna’s skin would, if only for a moment, grant her one kiss of its warmth. And so she chose the path, and took a deep breath, and pushed forward.

“I left my husband at the altar. I packed as much as I could into a few pieces of luggage, and hopped on the first train headed west.”

For once, since their meeting, Anna was quiet and Elsa suddenly felt the need to fill the silence.

“I left him my car and anything I didn’t pack, like the dog and my piano. I quit my pointless job as an actuarial analyst via email right before I boarded the train.”

Anna exhaled loudly and blinked purposely a few times before speaking, “You.. wow. Just left everything behind huh?”

“I wanted to get out of town quickly. I couldn’t breathe.” Elsa tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“So you chose probably the slowest mode of transportation to go across the entire country, just because you ‘felt like it’?”

“I figured it would be a fun adventure and give me time to think.”

Anna laughed, “You mean to brood?”

“I didn’t say that”

“Come on Elsa, you weren’t seriously going to mope and look dramatically out the window for 2 weeks were you?”

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess not.”

“Meaning, yes Anna I was but you called me out on it and now I don’t know what to say. Right?”

Elsa made a face, she had known this woman for less than an hour and she was already so far in her head that Elsa might as well charge her rent. But saying her, what she now saw as reckless and impulsive plan, out loud was freeing.

She felt warmth on the back of her neck and turned back to the window to see the sunlight set fire to a field of corn. Brown wispy tops of long green stocks danced in waves, long endless rows bent and swayed. A lone tree in the middle of the field broke the pattern, the stalks that had come to worship at its feet paid the price for being in the shade. They were shorter and more sparse, yet the further from the tree, the more they grew. The further away from the city, the train went, the more Elsa felt like those corn stalks away from the tree.

+++

The dining car was busier, packed full of life and people. All of whom were in various states of dress. Some sporting loose-fitting sweats, wiping sleep from their eyes. Others in formal business attire, already on their third cup of coffee and 7th morning briefing. The clicking of their keyboards and monotone voices of video calls faded into the conglomerate of sounds contained in the frankly small space.

“Can I get you ladies anything this morning?” a younger woman in uniform asked, she placed two small, single-page menus in front of Elsa and Anna, who each sat on opposite sides of a small booth.

“A coffee and some toast, please.” Elsa handed the menu back, she hadn’t bothered looking, it was a simple basic order that she never struggled to find anywhere she went.

“Umm,” Anna on the other hand was scanning the menu up and down, trying to decide. “Orange juice and a coffee and a bagel with butter instead of cream cheese. Please!” the woman smiled and took her menu, continuing down the row.

It wasn’t long before the food and drinks arrived. Elsa put one sugar in her coffee and sipped it slowly. Outside the large, clean, windows of the dining car, there were vast sprawling fields. It had been only a few days since Anna became her companion and nearly that entire time, the train had seemed to be continually chugging through the same boring field. So much for seeing the country.

Anna dumped several packets of sugar and a few creams into her coffee before taking a large swig and chasing the hot liquid with orange juice. She made a face and busied herself with her bagel.

This is how their mornings went, and it was a comfortable enough routine.

+++

“So listen,” Anna said. They were back in their seats in the passenger car. “The next stop is going to be a long one, apparently there’s a delay further up the tracks and they’re holding us at this next station for a few hours.”

“Yes, I know this. I heard the announcement too.” Elsa mused

“Yeah ok but listen, they said 4 plus hours right? So I googled things around there and I found this!” she handed Elsa her phone, on it was a photo of a waterfall with text below that mentioned a hiking trail.

“I don’t hike, plus I don’t think we have time anyway.” “We wouldn’t BUT! This,” she jabbed the phone screen. “Is a 10-minute walk from the station. See it’s part of a hiking trail but the station itself is a rest stop for the trail. So we’re going.”

There was that commanding presence coming out again. If the waterfall was so close to the station itself, Anna did have a point. So Elsa agreed.

An hour or so later they were stepping off the train onto a dusty brick platform. To call this a station was being generous. There was a small building, which contained two single restrooms, and one vending machine that looked like it hadn’t been serviced in years.

A soft hand grabbed Elsa’s forearm and she found herself being pulled away from the building and towards the beaten path to the waterfall.

+++

“You know, when I left home. No one checked on me. No one text or calls. Not even from my would-be husband.”

“Not text or even a Facebook message?”

“Nope.” Elsa left out a sigh. “I’m not surprised honestly. People say I’m difficult to get to know. At the wedding, the bride’s side was nearly empty. The few people over there just sat there because the groom’s side was full and they wanted a better view.”

Anna picked up a small pebble and tossed it into the stream, it made a soft plop sound before sinking below the surface. “Why did you guys want to get married then?”

“Well,” Elsa chewed on her lower lip for a moment before answering. “When you’re in business people expect things from you. It’s incredibly outdated and sexist too. But you’re expected to have a wife or a husband, expected to have children, expected to own a home, or at least rent somewhere nice. Have a good, clean car, new tech, nice clothes. All those things.”

She paused to copy Anna’s move with the pebble but missed the water completely, the small stone disappearing somewhere in the woods.

“We met at a company gathering and didn’t hate each other. Our drinks were the same, we watched the same evening news, had the same mild interest in the local sports team. It was enough to bolster a conversation. We started dating a few weeks later.”

“What about the wedding?”

Elsa laughed or at least made a sound that was like a laugh. “We had been dating for 2 years. And when I saying dating, I mean we were each other’s plus one to events, and we had dinner together at the nice restaurants. He was up for a promotion, asked if I wanted to get married and I agreed.”

“Wait what, he didn’t romantically propose?”

“No, we were never really intimate. A kiss here and there, maybe a night over to relieve stress. But if I’m honest, we spent most of our time apart and doing our own thing.”

Anna picked up a stick and picked at the bark, her brows pulled together and the ghost of a frown on her face.

“Did you love him?” she asked quietly

Elsa didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to turn her attention to the waterfall. Finally, after a few long minutes of silence, she answered. “No. No, I didn’t love him. And I would bet everything I own that he didn’t love me either.”

This time Anna sighed and scooted closer to Elsa. “You deserve to be loved, Elsa.”

“I’m not sure I even know what love is.”

Anna stood and walked in front of her field of view. Hands on her hips. “Sure you do!”

Elsa responded by standing and making a face.

“Elsa love isn’t a contract, it’s not a business proposal. It’s work and it’s hard but it also good and warm. Love is telling someone about your day and them listening and offering advice. Love is watching a movie together and laughing at the stupid parts. Love is holding someone while they’re sick and telling them dumb jokes to make them feel better. Love is a lot of things, but what love isn’t is convenient.”

“He was very convenient…”

“But was he love?”

“No.”

Anna reached out and took Elsa’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. “It’s okay, you know? You’re going to be okay. Fresh coast, fresh start.”

“Fresh coast, fresh start?” Elsa repeated, confused.

“Yeah, you’re moving to the West Coast, fresh coast, to start anew, fresh start.”

“Fresh coast, fresh start.” Elsa said again, “You know what, I like that.”

Anna beamed and that warm feeling prickled on the back of Elsa’s neck again.

+++

“So we have the colors all picked out, purple and green. And my dress is white but it’s ever so slightly green like it will catch the light, it’s so pretty.” Anna said. They were back in the dining car, having just finished dinner. About a week had passed since the waterfall adventure and train was rolling again. This time outside the window the fields were broken by large rocks and streams. Anna had her phone out, swiping through photos of her wedding prep.

“You sound excited,” Elsa commented, taking a sip of wine.

“Oh, I am! It’s going to be a lot of fun…” Anna looked up suddenly and stared right at Elsa. “You should come!”

“You don’t have to invite me.”

“Oh please, we’re like practically sisters at this point. Like I know what brand of tampon you used and I know that you snore when you sleep.”

“That’s… that’s a weird thing to know.”

“Elsa, everyone snores, pay attention, I’m forwarding you the rsvp so you can fill out what type of food you want.”

Elsa had to smile as she pulled out her phone to answer the email. “What a strange trip this has been. One day I’m running from my own wedding, and now I’m getting invited to a stranger’s.”

“Not a stranger, a friend,” Anna added, smiling warmly.

“A friend,” Elsa repeated, genuinely returning Annan’s smile.

“You know I was just sitting in the dining car, having a coffee and playing a pointless game on my phone. When I suddenly just felt this pull to leave. And I followed it blindly till I saw you. Then it’s like everything clicked. I think we were meant to find each other.”

Elsa was quiet for some time, considering this. Anna had swooped into her field of vision and hadn’t left since. And for once she didn’t mind the company. That warm feeling was back and with it, Elsa found herself agreeing. “I think we were meant to find each other too.”

+++

In the morning they would be arriving in San Francisco and would be going their separate ways. It was likely they wouldn’t see each other again. Sure, they had exchanged numbers - but in a city of 3 million people, it was easy to lose a single soul.

She didn’t want to lose Anna though. This blaze of a woman who dared to knock down Elsa’s walls with a bulldozer. She had never really had a close friend, and as Anna, asleep on her shoulder, stirred in response to a dream - Elsa couldn’t help but wonder if this is what it felt like to be loved.

Anna shifted, reaching out her hand, searching for something. Fingers moved with a purpose, slowly curling and uncurling until their ship reached the harbor. And she wrapped them around Elsa’s hand, holding firmly, as if she was once again reading Elsa’s mind and was too, afraid to let her go.

Elsa decided then and there, that this time would be different. This time she wouldn’t close the door on someone. She gave Anna’s hand a slight squeeze, causing Anna to nestle into the old woman’s neck.

Elsa turned to watch the lights from the city fade into the darkness of the desert. Her neck was warm and this time it traveled down and warmed her whole body. She ran a thumb over Anna’s hand and smiled.

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break

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yeoldontknow · 4 years

Text

Kissing Vermilion: Teaser

aslkdjal i am so much more late with this than i intended to be. getting the pace right on this is proving to be a challenge BUT! heres a small sample of what im trying to have completed by next weekend. this was meant to be up yesterday for joons BD but i was busy and couldnt write as much as i wanted to :((( you can all thank @jamaisjoons for the utter filth that this will become. happy birthday namjoon im sorry im late and will continue to be late *tosses confetti* (sorry theres no graphic im saving it for the full thing eep)

↠ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader ↠ Full Story Summary: It was never your intention to sleep with your brother’s best friend, but it happened. It was never your intention to fall in love with him, but it happened. It was never his intention to fall in love with you, either, but it’s happening. Against his better judgement, Namjoon just can’t seem to stay away from you. ↠ Genre: fwb!au; smut; angst; the full story is going to be the most filth ive ever written im so sorry ↠ Rating (teaser): R ↠ Warnings (teaser): nothing terribly smutty but she thinks about it...a lot...theres a lot of mature concepts here ↠ Tentative post date: 9/19

March, 2013

You really must remember to thank your roommate.

As the condensation rolls down the chilled glass of your vodka lemonade, the eyes of the man beside you do their best to stay focused on the lush crimson of your lipstick. Every now and then, at the end of a sentence or at the end of a joke that does not necessarily land, his brows narrow, ensuring his gaze does not fall, lower and lower still, to the provocative shape of the red dress that hugs your body. For the moment, he is nameless, an unintroduced stranger whose eye you caught just by standing next him and ordering a drink. You have not let him go, even as your mind wanders. Or, rather, it's the red that refuses to let him go, red and the way the shade kisses you with reverence.

All your life red has been your dearest companion, your first of many experiences and your best of even more. Red was your first lipstick, a scarlet transgression against your mother at twelve years old. It was sacred only because it was forbidden, the cream from the bullet now a fleeting memory of cracked concrete behind your middle school and the wide eyes of boys passing by, likely wondering if they should tell your brother. Red was your first Solo cup, and the first you’d crushed beneath your spine as you lost your virginity sophomore year.

Red was not your first hickey, and also not your first scarf to cover the evidence, but it was your best one, your most favourite one. It was small, and it burned against your skin for days, the same way your nails ripped scarlet down your boyfriend’s back, the scratches stinging beneath all his shirts. He’d said he loved you, and you believed him, giving him red as a promise of your loyalty. Red was the wine you poured in his bed and the flush against your chest when you found him with another woman, her legs too slow in the effort of unwinding from his hips. Red was his lies, your slap against his cheek, and the paint of Yoongi's car, which you'd borrowed to not lose your campus parking spot.

Red has always been yours, oftentimes the only thing you trust, the only thing that has never let you down. Now, it sits on your skin like you belong to it. You chose the dress for the shade, your roommate made you buy it because of the shape. You don't usually toy with such a deep cut against your back, a low swoop as alluring as the moon and turning the line of your spine into a promise of treasure or victory. But this red turns you into something special, something dangerous.

And now, with his eyes on you, you really must remember to thank her.

The man beside you flashes you a smile he thinks he is dazzling, rolling the base of his whiskey neat in slow circles against the bar top. He waits for you to flush, anticipating a rush of blood to your cheeks or your lips, but you merely offer him a thin lipped smile, remembering to be polite. His eyes dart from your face to the seductive contour of your hips, and back again, and he tries to be respectful, tries to play it off like he's positively twitterpatted, but you can tell. You can always tell.

As his eyes flick away once more, admiring the supple skin of your shoulder, you wonder if you would be interested. Your mind starts to wander for a moment, and you envision yourself leaning close and letting him have his fill. It would be so terribly easy, and you'd let him feel like he'd won even if you had no intention of it going any further than this. If it was just you and just him, you'd be good. At the end of all his jokes, you would laugh and peer at him through the thick curtain of your lashes. At all the right places, you'd rest your hand on his arm and make him believe he mattered. For one night, you would be so good.

But his eyes are on you, the searing heat of Namjoon's intense and focused stare kisses at the small of your back from across the room. He sits at a table with your large group of friends, expression entirely neutral except for the power that lurks ominously in his jaw and dark irises. His gaze has walked from the small of your back to settle at the warm highlight of your cheekbone, and, now, you are aching. Feeling him all over you is just the same as feeling his hands at your throat, your heartbeat rattling in your chest as though lingering on a knife's edge. There's something different about it tonight, about him. There's something different about the way you feel under his unwavering attention, and somewhere amidst the laughing and the talking and the indiscernible number of drinks you have convinced this stranger to buy you, you have started to learn you want Namjoon to stay.

Tonight, you are learning that his attention makes a kingdom bloom beneath your skin, amongst your blood, and you are asking, silently willing, him to claim it.

You should not want him here. You should not want him nestling into crevices long untouched, and long unnoticed. Namjoon unfurls in the spaces between your bones and your joints, curling into the gaps between your ribs, and you wonder if he can feel it. Have you done the same to him, just by standing, and talking, and quietly wanting? If you're being honest, you've always wanted him, at least a little. If you're honest, you can distantly remember the time your brother brought him over their final year of high school and he had grown into the baby fat of his cheeks, his white shirt somehow battling the muscles of his chest for dominance, and his smile, and the dimples he so often kept a secret, felt sweeter to you than honey.

If you're honest, it was your family, the proximity of your relationship to him that decided he was not for you. There’s something forbidden about craving a person you’ve known all your life, someone your brother has spent his whole life calling his best friend. It was your family, and it was Yoongi, who made you turn away from your infatuation. You were eighteen when you finally swallowed your crush on Namjoon whole, convinced you had rid yourself of it while taking the appropriate lesson you were meant to learn: you no longer wanted a boy, you deserved a man, your hunger to be touched deserving of confident, unyielding hands.

So you set your attention on other guys learning how to grow into their adulthood - even if they had never mastered the strength or dominance of it, even if they never tasted quite right against your tongue. It’s been a long time since you have wanted him to look at you like this, even longer since someone has done so without demanding you witness them, without expecting you to bend for them.

Namjoon looks at you like you matter, like you're something worth keeping. He watches you intently, refusing to look away until you are certain he could devour the very flesh of you, and still find away to take more, still find ways to keep all your lonely parts begging for him. He looks at you like he needs you, simultaneously uncovering the terrifying truth that you have always needed him, and as the man beside you slides his phone number over to you on a napkin, a number you know you will lose or forget as soon as it is out of your line of sight, you are certain you are toeing a line that, once crossed, offers no point of return.

'You should come see it.’ Abruptly, your thoughts are broken by the gruff voice of your conversation partner. Raising his voice slightly, he regards you knowingly, silently insisting your attention return to him. 'I think you'd like it.'

Ever since he started speaking to you the conversation has been mundane, likely because every topic of discussion has somehow revolved around or worked its way back to him. There’s an edge of pride in his voice, the sort that expects respect alongside awe for his, ultimately banal, accomplishments. Offering him a small, lopsided smile, you tilt your head to the side and feign interest, exposing more of your smooth skin.

'Oh?' you hum, amused that even something as simple and unaffected as this noise of inquiry will provide him a sense of self-security.

'Yeah, I can show you around.’ He takes a long, slow sip of his whiskey, as if his statement is a promise of something meaningful. ‘You can bring some friends, too, if you want. I admit, the frat is a mess but it's still a good time.'

You’ve forgotten which university he goes to, where he’s from, his name. Idly, you wonder if he’s a member of Namjoon’s friend group, though you doubt it. Over time, your college friends have merged together, Sunhee’s interest in Jackson bringing them together since she met him at the gym. You’re meant to be celebrating her birthday at the table, beside your friends and beside Namjoon. Removing yourself from his orbit has proven to be a test, but, at this angle, Namjoon sees all of you, keeps you rooted to this position at the bar just so he can have his fill, and this, you think, is hardly a sacrifice.

Having nothing to say, you simply nod, offering yet another generic question that will keep him talking and keep Namjoon watching you. 'All frat houses are a mess,' you shrug amiably. 'Do you like the campus?'

Immediately, he begins nodding, lips flattening into a sly grin. 'Yeah, it's a nice place. A little cloistered at times. If you stay too long you feel like you're in a bubble, you know? But I chose it because the law program...'

Tuning his voice out, your focus returns to the raised hair and gooseflesh that dimples along your arms. It’s been months of this, of your friend groups coming together to play matchmaker in the effort of being supportive, and through all of this you have become acquainted with who Namjoon really is when he’s liberated from the influence of childhood. Without your hometown, Yoongi’s deep laugh, or the distant chatter of your parents in the other room, Namoon’s identity has stretched and morphed into something almost unrecognizable in its alluring temptation.

Yoongi makes him warm, soft, a voice of wisdom and reason that has, more often not, left you feeling comforted and protected. At home, he is clumsy, sheepishly so, endearing in the way he trips over his own feet or drops things even if he’s being careful. Namjoon laughs first, even if his laugh is not always the easiest. He is the most curious and, simultaneously, the most distant, miles away in his thoughts even as he considers every word you say. And even tonight, he still is this way, the rich texture of his voice ringing out above the din when he laughs, genuine and encouraging, doing his best to make sure everyone feels comfortable.

But the more you’ve seen him with friends he’s made by choice and by interest, university friends who both challenge and offer a mode of relating to his own adulthood, the more you have watched him separate from the things that made him Joonie. He has become someone who carries eroticism in their bones, his smile no longer just a comfort, but one that is altogether too full of temptation even in its patient inertia.

The confidence in him has your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth every time he's with you, your walls clenching around nothing every time he looks at one of your friends with more than a little interest. Joonie has abandoned the childhood endearment in favor of his whole name, Namjoon a word that gets pressed against his neck and shoulders like a brand. He’s become fluent in more than one language and also in the destructive language of ruin, a single look from him and you feel naked all the way down to your nerves.

Reclining in his seat, his hand moves languidly up and down the glass of his cold beer while he remains poised in his consideration of you, your round ass, and the way you lick your lips to keep them moist when you presume no one is watching. His broad shoulders are rolled back and even when you aren’t looking at him, even when he is not directly in your line of sight, you still toy with the idea of getting on your knees and begging him. For what, you are not certain, but you think it is likely the simple request to stay with him, wherever your feet, your finger, or your bones rest.

You’d like him to invade you like that. You’re certain he’d excel at such a carnal delight.

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAMJOON #its coming i swear #not tagging a whole shebang because?#its just a teaser lmao #enjoy

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bestbluebouquet · 4 years

Text

Flirting with Social Anxiety

Roman and Virgil run a podcast together, helping lonely souls with romantic advice. But maybe the best romance was the one they found along the way...

Podcast AU

Characters: Roman, Virgil.

Pairing(s)- Prinxiety

No Warnings (but let me know if I missed one)

---

It’s two pm on a Thursday afternoon. Roman Prince stands in front of Virgil Storm’s garage and punches in a number that is more muscle memory than actual memory at this point. As soon as the garage door opens enough for him to duck under, he does so, squeezing between a large trash can and a beat up silver car to get to the door into the house. He closed the garage door on his way in. Roman cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered into the house.

“VIR~GIL.”

A pause

“DOWN HERE!” came the shouted reply from the basement. Roman jogged down the stairs and into the recording studio.

“Everything set up?” he asked as he dropped into the cushy chair waiting for him. Across the table and two mics away, sat Virgil, who checked something on his computer and nodded slowly.

“Yup. Got everything you need?”

Roman pulled out his computer and wiggled it in the air for Virgil to notice, before setting it down on the table.

“Here.” Virgil kicked the power-strip under the table over to Romans side. Roman gratefully plugged his computer in and pulled up the page he needed. He put on his headphones and Virgil did so as well.

“Alright, ready when you are..”.

“Five, four, three, two, one.” Virgil pointed at Roman to start talking.

“Hello and welcome back to another episode of Flirting with Social Anxiety. I’m the Flirting,”

“And I’m the Anxiety. If you’re new to the show and haven’t listened before, we take your romantic problems and give you solutions.”

“Although for legal reasons, we are not experts and this is a comedy podcast.”

“Please don’t sue us.”

The pair fell into a comfortable rhythm. One of them would pull up a submitted scenario that they chose for that week. They'd debate, share a laugh and move on. Four scenarios flew by in what felt like 20 minutes, although a glance at the clock on his computer told him it was closer to an hour and a half. Roman twirled his finger in the air questioningly, asking Virgil if he was ready to wrap it up.

Virgil held up one finger and mouthed “one more”. Roman leaned back in his chair and Virgil cleared his throat before starting to read.

“Dear Flirting with Social Anxiety. I think I’m in love with my best friend. I’ve known him since college and we recently started working the same job. We’re both gay men, so at least I know he swings my way. But what do I do? This guy is really important to me and I don’t want to mess things up.

Virgil took a sip of water, watching as Roman took a second to consider it.

“I would say to go for it-”

Virgil choked on his water. Roman paused as Virgil coughed into his sleeve.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah”

“Alright. But yeah, I think this person - did they give a name?”

“Uhhh, no.”

“This person should go for it! What’s there to lose? If he’s really your best friend then he shouldn't abandon you over that. If he likes you back, then perfect! If he doesn’t, your friend should be able to put on big boy pants and deal with it.”

Virgil stayed silent. Roman looked at him expectantly.

“Well Mister Doom and Gloom? Your turn.” Roman flashed a crooked smile “That’s kinda how this podcast works”

“I don't think he should go for it.” Virgil said softly, then cleared his throat. “I mean, it sounds too risky. It sounds like they could lose their best friend. It’s not worth it.”

“Oh come on Negative Nelson, love is always worth it!”

“Well what if it’s not that simple?”

Virgil was now staring intently at him from across the table, more heated than he usually got during the recording. Roman looked him in the eye.

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same thing?”

He asked as softly as he could. Virgil looked away and took a sip of water. After a second he nodded.

“Yeah. Of course. this guys deal.”

A silence fell.

“Anyway.” Virgil started the outro “I think that's today's episode.”

“I think I agree.”

“Tune in next week to listen to even more flirting.”

“And even more anxiety. See you next week listeners.”

Roman waited until Virgil had taken off his headphones before he took his off. When Virgil took off his headphones, it meant everything was taken care of on his end of things. Usually the symbolic removal was followed by a loud sigh and a soft smile, but this time Virgil's face was tight.

“Virgil..”

Virgil shot up from his seat nervously.

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

He blurted out and all but ran upstairs. Roman made to get out of his chair, but stopped. He thought about the scenario Virgil gave him. Two gay men, met in college, work the same job.... Oh. Oh.

Roman almost slapped himself in the face for just now realizing it. Of course Virgil would try to get his opinion on the situation in an undercover way before making a move.

Roman made up his mind and slowly walked upstairs. Virgil wasn't in the first floor bathroom, so he continued up to the second floor. There he found the bathroom tucked away in Virgil's bedroom with a closed door and a sliver of light emanating from within. He knocked his knuckles on the door quietly.

“Hey Virgil.” he said to the door, then settled on the floor. “You don't have to say anything right now, but if you could listen for a bit, I think I have something that you might want to hear. If you want to hear it that is. ”

There was a slight shuffling on the other side of the door and the door creaked behind Roman, which made him think Virgil had sat on the other side of the door

“Go ahead.” Virgil whispered.

“Okay. I've been thinking of that scenario you told me, and it reminded me of one I read. It was about a man who recently began working with his best friend in the world. A best friend that he met in a coffee shop in college, where the friend was working on an essay at 11:00 pm and fell asleep, only for the dashing writer (and part time barista) to give him a blanket.”

A huffed laugh from the other side of the door.

“The writer spoke about his best friend and how he was the most important person in the world to him. The person he could rely on the most, the person he turned to when he needed advice. His rock.”

Roman trailed off and cleared his throat

“And he spoke about how sometimes he wished that they were more than best friends.” He said softly, leaning his head back on the door.“And I’m not talking about super-best friends.” He added, just to get Virgil to laugh.

And he did.

“I think I know what you're talking about.” Virgil said.

“Yeah. How whenever his friend laughed or smiled in just the right way, his heart skipped a beat.”

“How when the sun lit up his hair it shined like gold.”

“Or when he looked him in the eye, his brain shorted out.”

“Or how he put his heart into everything he did.”

“And how he knew he loved him.” Roman whispered

“And how he loved him back.” Virgil whispered back.

The doorknob rattled and Roman turned around. The door opened and Virgil was sitting there on the other side. Virgil opened his arms for a hug and Roman wrapped his arms around him as tight as he could.

“I love you, Roman.”

“I love you too, Virgil.”

They sat there for a while, not wanting to let go of each other, never wanting to let go of each other again. Eventually, Virgil’s stomach growled slightly and Roman chuckled.

“Want to order a pizza?”

“Only if it's veggie.”

“Of course, I wouldn't dream of anything else.”

And if the two spent the rest of the night cuddled on the couch eating veggie pizza and watching old Disney movies until they fell asleep? Well, that was nobody’s business but their own.

Taglist:

@coconut-cluster, @dew-drop-of-honey, @astrozei, (and I believe @caramel-clouds25, @bihufflepuffsstuff, @prinxiety-shipper101 and @nowhere-man-goes-somewhere expressed interest? but theres no pressure to stay on this taglist :D)

(if you would like to be removed from or added to this taglist, let me know in the notes or send me an ask!)

A/N: Here it is!! This took longer than I thought but I wanted to get it out today. I hope y’all enjoy it. Reblog/Like/Comment! Feel free to ask me q’s about this AU, I’d love to answer them! Let me know about any spelling/grammar errors I may have made

#finally getting back into writing these boys :3 #its been a while #ts spoilers #(?)#virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #bold in post #italics in post #podcast au

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tepid-tea · 4 years

Text

Sweet Dreams are made of..?

Okay! So this is the first time I’ve written for this fandom and this ship. I’m new to the fandom of Critical Role as well ( I’m like 50 episodes behind? I think?) and I stopped writing for a real long time so.... uh be kind I guess? Or be a a-hole thats fine too I suppose lol. I don’t have a beta reader ( never have lol) so all mistakes are mine so... leave me be! unless you want to beta read for me then DM me lol. Also any German used is from google translate lol so sorry? This is all AU obviously but I thought it was a cute idea that got stuck in my head. Theres a lot more then what I’ve posted here as this is just the first page ish? So depending on what kinds of reactions I get will determine if I post more. The title is a working title... not sure if it will stick lol; Whelp... Enjoy!

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“Caleb…” “Wake up sleepy head” The voice was softly accented in a way he hadn’t heard in what felt like years. Sharp but gentle nails dragged through his hair in a soothingly familiar pattern that stopped as it curled around his ear towards his neck. The sensation of those nails against the soft vulnerable stretch of skin sent shivers down his spine as he tried to open his eyes. Everything felt surpy soft and slow; like molasses, as he struggled to open his eyes. The whole room was set in an early morning glow, the sun sending warm beams of light across the room. Motes floated in those beams as the wind brought the sharp scent of the sea as a shadow swayed with the ship into the light. “Ah, there you are…” The voice cooed, still tracing gentle patterns against his skin. The nails switched to sword callused fingertips that left a scorching hot trail. Caleb couldn’t help the soft noise he made as the fingertips were quickly replaced with soft lips. There was a tinkle of metal, a brush of silky hair against skin as the warm moist lips trailed down his throat.

“Good Morning Mr. Caleb…” The wizard startled awake with a sharply drawn breath as his body tensed where it lay. He sat up quickly, as he gulped in air as his hands gripped tightly at his bedding. Clapping a hand over his neck, Caleb could almost feel the ghosting of lips still there as if it had truly happened. If he closed his eyes he could probably go back and feel the hot puff of air against the thin skin of his collarbone where he used to leave bites. Fuck; it had felt so real.

Swallowing roughly, he tried to calm his racing heart as the traces of the dream started to fade. His eyes wanted to flood with tears but a shaky inhale chased away the desire. No; the time he had allotted himself to grieve had long since passed. He would not allow these sudden influx of dreams to set him back. They had been apart longer than they had been together after all. Hopefully the more he told himself this his heart would finally agree. Drawing his legs up, Caleb rested his forehead against his knees as he wrapped his arms around his legs. He focused on the gentle rocking of the ship, the sounds of the crew and his friends waking up and running about the boat as the shift changed. Those up all night would get the chance to sleep off the dull dreary night as their ship sailed back into port in Nicodranas. He needed to get up and get to his duties. “Breathe in deep love, it’ll be fine soon…” the voice whispered in his ear, the sensation of a hand rubbing up from the middle of his back to across his shoulder blades. “Breathe…”

“Scheiße!!” Caleb swore, thrashing out of bed and scrambling across his room towards the door. Stumbling through it after hastily unlocking the door, he fell into the hallway and into another body. “Whoa there Caleb!” A pair of firm hands gripped his shoulders, causing the wizard to flinch so hard he almost fell to the ground. “Are you alright?” “I-ich weiß es nicht….” Caleb muttered, eyes wide as he gripped onto the front of Fjords shirt as he tried to remain upright. Looking at the half-orc and seeing confusion mixed in with concern, the wizard drew in a shaky breath as he rattled his brain for a translation.

“Nien, I don’t know….”

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Scheiße- Shit I-ich weiß es nicht - I-I don’t know

#My writing #widomauk #caleb widogast x mollymauk tealeaf #fanfic #there is more #so like or comment for more?

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wwounu · 5 years

Text

j.ww | your laugh is so adorable

✧˚ * . pairing: wonwoo x reader

✧.⊹ * prompt: “your laugh is so adorable.” + soulmate!au

✧· . ˚ word count: 877

[ from: you make my day | you made my dream m.list ]

The sunrays shine through the jade leaves, pink blossoms dangling off branches while they merge with the amethyst lavenders dancing with the wind.

You’re laid down, a book halfway on your face, locates in the midsts of the lilacs tickling your cheeks just as a white butterfly flaps its wings and does waved-shaped patterns in the sky.

You’d never thought that this was the place you were going to meet your soulmate, it was so perfect it didn’t feel like it existed.

Its beauty brought the garden of eden to shame.

So you sit up, finding the stone pathway to the bridge painted in ruby and dark wood to stare at the running waterfall, refreshing the rocks guiding the stream and splashing like crystals in the sunlight, like a sheet of darkness in moonlight.

Another butterfly passes, an azure one, looking as pretty as ever, catching your eye so much that you just had to turn and watch it fly away, but here’s where things get fuzzy.

Silver rimmed glasses. Soft, raven hair. Rosy cheeks and lips. Dreamboat smile.

It’s like this in every dream; that same sequence.

These fragments were of your soulmate, knowing it was him as the time passed because he’d be growing up while still playing that same sequence over and over again.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The dream ends and you’re awake, laying in bed for a few more minutes to ponder about your soulmate. Who is he? Where are you going to meet?

But the day starts nevertheless and you have to catch the train quickly. You were going to somewhere special to relieve yourself in as it was recommended by a friend.

Though the train ride was long, it went quicker by surprise. You hopped off, following some people who were going to your desired spot too, finding the enterance of where to go. It was a nature park, a very beautiful one at that.

Once getting in, you wander around and enjoy the pleasing wonders nature truly brings. green-leaved trees, lilac flowers, that wooden bridge painted in lipstick red, the scenic view of the gush of water behind looking picture-esque.

Familiar.

Refusing to connect the dots you slowly approach the aged bridge, hanging your arms over the beams as you welcome in that breath of fresh air hitting your face.

Just then, a butterfly painted in sapphire lands on your the tip of nose. Watching it closely, cross-eyed, you grin, slowly turning it into a giggle as its small legs move on your nose before flying away completely, causing you to laugh.

“Your laugh is so adorable.”

“Excuse me?” You murmur, standing up properly. A boy stands in front of you along with a smile playing on his lips, ebony hair bounced on his hesd.

“I couldn’t help it, I apologise. You just looked very immersed with that butterfly for a second.” You huff an ah in understandment. He nudges his glasses, eyes switching to the waterfall quickly. “Mind if I stay here?”

“Of course not,” moving for the male, he leans on the bar, lost in the sounds of the waterfall rattling it’s soothing tones, “are you here with others?”

“On my own. I used to go here with my friends a lot, but we got older and eventually stopped coming with me. They always say oh, we’ll go next time Wonwoo, but they never do. It’s fine though.” He laughs easily. “You?”

“Alone.” You nod back at him.

“Wanna know why I come here a lot?”

“Hm, sure. Why here?”

“I’ll meet my soulmate here.”

“Oh. Wow,” is all you can manage, “I’m assuming theres no luck?”

“No but I’m still hoping. I’d come back here everyday to meet them one day.”

He’s facing you now, a confident, love-filled aura around him, the silver parts of his glasses shining in the sun. “I’m sure you will—”

Unexpectedly, Wonwoo turns frozen, a rush given in his body. You have no clue what’s happening but you call out the male’s name a few more times to make sure he’s alright. After a minute he comes back from his state, huffing in disbelief as a hand gradually reaches his heart.

“Wonwoo? Was everything okay back there?” Wonwoo bobs his head, eyes continuing to be star-struck, biting his lip to stop a twitching smile.

“Oh my god,” he whispers

“‘Oh my god’ what—“

Somehow, you have an out of body experience, back at your dream palace, standing on the bridge as you turn to expect the fragments come next.

They don’t.

Instead they build a slow image, knitting these images together before a glow comes and fits everything in place, revealing your soulmate.

Him — the boy with the midnight hair, with the devotion to hope his soulmate comes to him one day, a dreamy smile, the one who complimented your laugh.

Wonwoo.

That small euphoria ended and you were back into the real world, nature surrounding you. In front is Wonwoo, gazing at you and you try to get your head around things too.

“... Yeah, oh my god,” you finally admit, breaking into a shy, real laugh with him. Wonwoo steps toward you, that dream-like smile becoming a reality for you.

“Maybe, just maybe, I’ve already found my soulmate.”

#hA BET EVERYONE WAS EXPECTING A TATTOO SOULMATE AU HAHA NO SIR #dont get me wrong i love soulmate tattoo things but... its used a lot and i wanna jazz it up :(#hence why this was so wordy (im predicting its 900 words) but it was mainly bc of description #also inspired by the ideal cut vcr!!#wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #you made my dream #seventeen you made my dream #ymmdream_ymmd #ymmdream_jww

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

Text

when i said it i thought it was true [1] {Ben Hardy}

Anon asked: could you do an imagine where ben is the reader’s ex and they are somehow working together on the set of bo rhap and they fall in love all over again ☺️ could you make it angst-y and then end with fluff? i love your writing so much!!

Anon asked: could you do an imagine where the reader is in bo rhap, maybe playing as one of roger’s gfs or something and she kind of falls in love with ben while filming the scenes with him as roger 💖 very fluffy pls :D

A/N: 3124 words. Super AU version of BoRhap being filmed in the fic. There’s gonna be another part, that will fill the prompts better. This might end up being a series. I hope you enjoy. Feedback would be nice.

When your manager rings you, telling you that you’d landed a part in the Queen Biopic Bohemian Rhapsody, you were elated. Freddie Mercury was a bit of a personal hero of yours, and to be a part of his story on the big screen, it was sort of a dream come true.

In your first meeting, you sign a nondisclosure agreement, and you’re given the latest draft of the script to start learning, as well as a character brief. The script calls your character ‘Amanda’, the girlfriend of Roger Taylor who he eventually realises he wants to settle down with. You’d seen pictures of young Roger Taylor, you wouldn’t lie, you were excited for the role. Honestly, even today he was still quite a fox.

The point is, you were excited to have a fun time on set with a pretty blonde, make some new connections, and earn some good money. Some really good money.

The other shoe drops when you’re flicking through Instagram, and one of the stan accounts you follow has posted a leaked screenshot of the proposed cast list, and there’s your name, right beside the name of the last person you wanted to pretend to be in love with. Ben Hardy; pretty blonde extraordinaire, and your ex-boyfriend.

The table read is... awkward.

The two of you are sat next to each other, and barely spoke two words to each other. You feel unprofessional the whole time, but you’d rather be anywhere else in the world, and the delivery of some of your lines falls a little flat. The director casts a concerned look between yourself and Ben as you rattle of what’s meant to be banter like you’re reading the news paper.

“They’ve got no damn chemistry; it’s like watching a celebrity divorce hearing.” When the Director vents to one of the producers in the hall outside after the reading, you manage to catch it where you’re just about to come out of the bathroom.

“They’ll be better on set, I promise, it’s just jitters.” She tries to soothe his nerves, and they’re off soon after, and you’re left with a cold, sinking sensation in your stomach.

“You’re Y/N, aren’t you? How are you finding the set?” The guy who greets you on your first day on the Eastenders set smiles with such casual ease it feels like you’ve known him for a while, instead of having just met him.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You agree with a quick nod, rocking back on your heels as you gaze around the space, trying not to look at him for too long. “It’s a bit overwhelming.” Actually, what’s overwhelming is that he’s talking to you. He’s Ben fucking Hardy, pretty-boy on the soap-opera scene, and he’s talking to you on your first day.

“Yeah, you’ll be right though; if you need any help or anything, just give us a yell, yeah?” And you realise he probably doesn’t know who you’re playing, or how you’re involved in that Season’s arc, but you certainly did.

“I didn’t know you could play drums.” You’re trying to be casual when you say it, but you see Ben tense where he’s sitting on a sofa in the rehearsal room, script and pencil in hand.

“I can now, that’s all that really matters.” He’s giving off such strong ‘please leave me alone’ vibes that it almost hurts, and you have to push through the knot in your stomach and sit down next to him.

“Ben, we need to at least be civil.” You say quietly, and he looks at you, expression a little forlorn.

“Y/N, we are civil, and we’ve done this before. Let’s just keep it professional, okay?” His tone leaves little room for argument, and you nod in agreement with a small smile, and pull out your phone, waiting for the rehearsal director.

“Hey there, baby, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here; I know I’d recognise your face.” You purr, running your hand delicately over the collar of Ben’s shirt, as his eyes widened and he spluttered to form a sentence, just as the script had told him to.

Your character was more a plot device than anything, when Ben’s character is at a low point, his main romance is on a break, and he meets you, a temptress in all black. Your job is to give his character a realisation, he starts as your cocaine dealer when his supplier can’t make the drop, and he falls for you. Depending on the audience reaction, you knew the producers were waiting to see if they kill you off or have you recover from your addiction. The point is, your fate’s uncertain at the end of the Season, and Ben’s character realises he has to get out of the drug trade.

“I’ve got something for you, from Oskar. Can we go somewhere more private?” When he speaks, it’s with surprising confidence, and he steps up from the bar stool and into your space, smiling as your face lights up. The director calls cut after a moment, and you step back, smile sliding to something genuine as an assistant comes in and straightens your loose, black silk shirt, and they reset the shot for a new take.

“Ben, could you try less flustered? You’re here to deliver drugs, you’re not a schoolboy.” The director’s voice was kind as she came up to the two of you, and Ben agreed easily before she turned to you. “Great job, Y/N, don’t be afraid to be more even more forward, if you feel it.” As soon as you nod in understanding, she absconds, and you half laugh.

“If I was any more forward I’d be in your lap.” You snickered, voice quiet as you dipped your head to hide how you were faintly flustered. Ben was quiet, just watching you for a moment, but before you noticed, the director called for everyone to standby.

“I’m after Maggie, do you know where I could find her?” Ben starts as soon as the cameras start rolling, brow furrowed as he leans across the bar to speak to the bartender, and that’s your cue to enter the scene.

“Hey there, baby, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here; I know I’d recognise your face.” And when you say it this time, he smirks back at you, a little cocky, and you can feel the way it makes your heart flutter and you know it’s not as fake as it should be.

Before filming even starts, the producers have essentially forced you and Ben into bonding sessions which, if this were several years ago, would have just been dates. Now they’re awkward and tense, and you tend to bring heavily highlighted scripts.

“I saw you in that Wes Anderson movie last year. It was a really good performance, one of your best.” He offers over coffee. The idea that he’d kept up with enough of your work to label one ‘your best’ has you a little shocked, and something in your heart warms as you thank him softly.

It’s gotten easier to hang around with him, and it’s even easier to pretend to be in love with him in rehearsals. It’s like riding a bike, how easy it is to let yourself smile and lean into him, to let the banter flow easily between the two of you, fond jabs that edge on insulting coming as easily as breathing.

Joe mentions that he thought the two of you worked together before, and when you reply that you’d dated for almost a year, he goes very quiet, eyes going wide. After a beat, he admits it explains a lot.

“X-Men did you real dirty.” You’re half paying attention to an interview with Roger Taylor that the two of you had been instructed to watch together. You’re both in his trailer, sitting on opposite ends of the sofa as you watch in almost complete silence.

“What?” He asks, after a beat, your words having taken a moment to process.

“Killing you off like that; they could have gotten so much mileage out of your character.” The way you say it is far too well thought out to be an idle thought. Ben smirked.

“You just liked the leather pants.” He muttered, but you’re silence is answer enough. You know he sees your embarrassed smile, but you can’t bring yourself to deny it.

“Hey, do you wanna grab a drink after and go through notes and blocking and stuff?” You’re shooting your third episode, and you’re far more comfortable on set by now. Agreeing easily, you let Ben drive the two of you to what he claims is the best pub in town, and you sit in one of the more secluded booths to talk.

It turns out he’s just as much a fan of you as you are of him; you’re known more for your bit-parts in long-running series, it seems like the only show you hadn’t been a part of so far had been Eastenders, it was only a matter of time. It’s an innocent night, true to his word, all you do is talk, and discuss the script. There is one part of the upcoming script that has you a bit nervous.

“Listen, honestly just go for it; it’s not meant to be sweet or anything, I’m literally taking coke from you.” You tell him, fidgeting, and he’s hums thoughtfully.

“You sure? We can talk to the director, I’m sure-” He offers, but you laugh to hide your nervousness.

“Nah, let’s knock it out of the park, the script says go for it so just go for it.” You assured him, heart rate already quickening at the mere thought of it.

The next day, before the scene, the director comes over to talk you through it, making sure that if anything becomes uncomfortable, that you can talk to her. Both you and Ben assure her that it’s fine.

“You’re far too cute for this line of work.” You say as you hold a baggie of “cocaine” up to the light, smile playing on your lips.

“Cute? Ouch, you really know how to wound a man, you know.” He says, leaning back against the sofa in the hallway of the grubby hotel your character was staying in. He’s watching you with interest, small smile playing on his lips.

“Cute’s not a bad thing, baby, but you look like you should be making coffees or playing football in the sun, not here, not with me.” And you tap out a little of the powder onto your hand, pretending to snort it before you turn to him, his expression dark and hungry, and he kisses you, aggressive, almost desperate, and you lean into it, almost forget you’re playing a role with his hand on the back of your neck. When he lets go, when he pulls away, your eyes are still closed and you chase his lips for a moment. Eyes flickering open, you see him smirking down at you where he’s standing, and you both know it wasn’t entirely acting.

“You don’t know anything about me.” He growls, and you know you have to smile like you’re into it, like it’s a challenge, but instead, you duck your gaze, giving a small laugh and wiping at the nostril you’d just “snorted cocaine” through, before looking up at him through your eyelashes.

They call cut, and the director announces, almost a little awed, that she’s pretty sure they got the the take, actually says she’s not sure if she could getting a better take if they tried again. Ben seems far too pleased with himself.

“They want us to tell the public we’re together.” You’re resting your head on Ben’s chest laying at the back of the tour-bus set, and his hand is resting on your waist, which is bare for the crop top and booty shorts they’ve put you in.

“Yeah, I heard.” He replies, voice equally quiet. “I think we’ve got a meeting about it tomorrow morning.” Gwil and Rami are actually playing scrabble at the front of the bus, and Joe is talking to Singer, the director.

“It’s a bad idea.” You’re so frank that you feel Ben freeze, and you heave a sigh. “It’s good for the movie, but Ben...” You trail off, and you feel it when he forces himself to relax. “It wouldn’t be real, it would just be weird.”

“Y/N, we’re actors.” He says very pointedly, and when you turn, resting your chin on his chest, he looks tired, a little exasperated. “It’s just a business deal.” He assured, and you let out a low, thoughtful grumble.

“We’ll discuss it tomorrow.” You allow, and he nods once, shifting to a more comfortable position, and you go back to resting your head on his chest, eyes fluttering closed as Singer called for the shot to be reset and a bunch of people came and straightened your clothes, and touched up your makeup, all without you having to move much.

You agree to the terms set forth in the meeting easily, the story being that your relationship rekindled on set, and that you were now madly in love, mirroring the relationship you were portraying on screen.

“Wait, does that mean-?” Ben leans forward in his chair, with his heart in his throat as he followed their logic, thinking through the plot of the movie. “Like engaged?” He asked.

“Seems a bit fast.” You agreed, voice level enough that someone might mistake you for calm rather than internally freaking out, and your managers shared a look.

“There will be a public proposal during or after the world premiere, that’s up to you both, and after the movie is out on DVD, you can go your separate ways.” They assured, but your mouth fell open.

“You know he left me for X-Men, right?” You splutter, and Ben’s eyes widen as he turns to you with a scoff.

“You’re the one who said the distance was too much for us while I was in Cairo.” He snapped, and you threw your hands in the air.

“I was offering to come and stay with you instead, but you said you were too busy!” That was enough to shut him up, his mouth snapping closed as he turned away sharply, huffing out a resigned sigh.

“We have a few brands and restaurants who are interested in sponsoring, and the producers are willing to increase both your salaries if you go through with it for the full duration.” Your manager informed you both carefully, and you and Ben shared a resigned look.

“Fake intend to marry me for like three months?” He asked, voice low and bitter, and after heaving a long sigh, you look to your managers,

“Fine.”

“I think I love you.” Ben’s character shows up at your character’s door, and you open it in a silk robe.

“Hello to you too.” You laughed, but he’s so serious, so sincere, and when he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t offer anything else, you step up to him, pressing your lips to his, and he wraps his arms around you, hands sliding against the silk over your hips, and you pull back.

“You’re too sweet for me, baby,” voice so low it’s barely a whisper, he’s the one who chases your lips this time, but your catch his chin, and his eyes open.

“You’re high.” He says softly, voice raw and a little desperate.

“And you’re my dealer.” You push him back gently, going to close the door and his expression turns angry.

“That doesn’t mean anything; I love you, Maggie.” His words hang heavily in the air, but before you can respond, they call for cut. You’re told to play it more like it hurts to try and turn him down, and you agree, smiling and nodding all the while. Everyone sets up for another take and you close the door.

When you kiss him this time, his hands are holding your face, and you’ve got your arms around his neck, and it’s like the world falls away from around you. It’s not acting now, hasn’t been for weeks, almost months now, not since he’d asked you out officially. Every time you kiss him you’re desperate to drown in his embrace, and he kisses you like it’s just the two of you, no cameras, no scripts.

“You’re-” and he cuts you off with another quick kiss, which has you laughing a little sadly, “Peter you’re too sweet for me.” He rests his forehead against yours, heaving a sigh.

“I know you’re high.” He says gently, and you don’t push him away this time, just lean back, your finger lifting his chin.

“And you’re my dealer.” You tell him, expression falling.

“That doesn’t mean anything, that doesn’t matter; I love you.” And you know that in that moment, the words mean so much more than the script, than these characters, than the show; he loves you. Ben loves you.

You avoid him, outside of filming, until you actually get a call from your manager telling you you’re contractually obligated to be seen in public together at least once a week. Even while filming you’re short with him, and he’s quick to get away from you the moment he doesn’t need to be around you, which was getting to be pretty bad, seeing as how you had been blocking a sex scene.

After the call, you and Ben get a drink. It’s awkward at first, though that’s unsurprising. After a long sip of his beer, he pats his thighs where he’s sitting in the armchair across from you. You make a face at him, shaking your head.

“It’ll look less suspicious than if we’re shouting at each other across the table.” He hissed, and you groaned, obliging and crossing to sit yourself in his lap. He’s warm and secure, and he wraps his arm around you like it’s second nature. “Let’s not make this weird.” He said gently, and you nod.

“As for tomorrow’s shoot,” you said softly, leaning in to make sure no-one else heard, and he nodded, humming softly, “we’re professionals, and,” after a beat you cleared your throat pointedly, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Not in front of a camera crew we haven’t.” Ben says with a smirk, and you snicker in agreement. “It’s gonna go fine; this is all gonna go fine, I promise.” And when you raise your eyebrows at him in surprised question, he just laughs softly, and brings you in for a chaste kiss. “It’s only until the DVD’s released.” He assures you, and you let your expression fall, already weary.

“Ben, that’s over a year away.”

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #queen #queen imagines #eastenders #eastenders imagines #the angry lizard writes

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marvel-af · 5 years

Text

For The Best (Part 2)

Nurse!Peter Parker x Reader AU

Hey I’M kinda proud of this? thanks to @petey-verse for letting me bounce ideas off of her :) ily girlie

Warnings: Needles, Blood, Vomit, theres a little bit of fluff,,but the angst outweighs it

Word Count: 2400 wordsssss

My Masterlist is linked in my bio, and the series masterlist is in that one :)

Y/N wakes to a hand running through her sweaty, greasy hair. She groans and attempts to rise up from her place on the floor of the bathroom, feeling the tightness in her stomach as she pulls herself up.

“Woah, take it easy Y/N.” Sarah whispers, her voice hoarse from waking up. A straw is brought to Y/N’s lips, but she frowns and tightens her lips.

“So help me God. Y/N drink the water.” Sarah grumbles. It has been over a week since Sarah originally came over and she had only left to get a change of clothes. She was almost fed up with her sick, stubborn friend. Sarah attempts to push the straw through her friend's lips one more time before pushing herself up off the floor.

“I need some coffee, and when I come back, this water better be gone.” Sarah says, leaving the bathroom.

The cup sits on the floor, mocking Y/N with the clear liquid. She lifts the glass and dumps it into the toilet, not wanting to allow anything into her stomach. The glass makes a clink when it hits the tile of the floor. Y/N moves to lay back down on the floor, but her stomach grumbles, indicating another session of dry heaving. She leans her head over the toilet and heaves a few times before she feels something coming up. She spits, what she assumed was stomach acid, into the bowl, only to have a red tinted liquid in the water. She furrows her brow before another wave of muscle contraction pushes more of the red liquid out of her mouth.

“Y/N did you drink that water?” Sarah says looking down at her phone. Y/N turns from the toilet, and there’s red drool dripping down her chin.

“Sarah!” Y/N yells, clenching her stomach and releasing more blood into the toilet.

“Oh my God! Y/N!” Sarah yells. The out pour of blood finally stops and Sarah pulls Y/N up off the floor, much to her dismay. Y/N tries to fight her friend, opting to stay on the floor, but Sarah is insistent.

“Hey, we have to get you to the hospital.”

Y/N only nods, the severity of the situation hit her like a stack of bricks. Her eyes sting as hot tear pour down her cheeks. Sarah quickly puts shoes on Y/N, then drags her out to her car and drives as quickly as possible to the hospital.

The bed groans as Peter shifts awake. The boy rolls over, glancing at the clock that reads 6:28 AM. Two minutes before his alarm is set to go off. He hears the footsteps of his two roommates shuffling around, getting ready for work. Peter yawns and rubs his eyes before throwing off his blankets. He emerges from his room and into the main living area of his apartment, his friends already dressed and eating breakfast.

“Look who decided to finally show up.” MJ laughs as she takes a big bite of her toast. Ned giggles and fist bumps MJ.

“That was my only sleep after a twenty-four-hour shift. You guys are lucky I’m even up.” Peter quips, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge and drinking right from the bottle. MJ wrinkles her nose at this.

“Well, go get ready. We’re leaving for the hospital in fifteen.” Ned says. Peter nods and quickly gets ready.

The group of nurses leaves their apartment and make their way to work. They arrive and make their way to their station. The station they usually work in is in the emergency room, which means they get to see all the cool cases, before the doctors whisk them away. Most of their days are filled with helping paranoid people with the sniffles or small stitches and broken bones. But occasionally, they get to help the doctors out, where the interns can’t.

Peter was helping a young boy who had sprained his wrist when a woman ran in supporting another woman who was vomiting into a bag. He saw MJ approach her, placing her hand on the sick woman’s back, as Ned pulls the other frantic woman aside to get paperwork done. The young woman honestly looked like shit. When MJ switches the vomit filled bag to a bowl, Peter sees how bad the situation really was.

“Alright, your cast’s done, I’ll send someone over to help with your discharge.” Peter says to the mother of the child to which she nodded. Peter quickly makes his way over to the crying woman, who is sat on a bed clutching her friends hand as MJ trieds putting the IV in.

“Ma’am I know this is scary, but you have to stay still so I can put in your IV.” MJ says. The woman nods, but when the needle touches her arm, she jerks away again.

“Sorry, she really hates needles.” Sarah whispers, trying to calm Y/N down. The fear in Y/N’s eyes was so evident to her best friend, and Sarah’s heart breaks to see this. She thought it was just a stomach bug, but those don’t make people vomit blood. The car ride over only scared Sarah more, Y/N groaning in pain and clutching her stomach before grabbing a plastic bag from a side compartment and filling it with her bloody vomit.

Peter notices the far-away look in the sick woman's friend and decides to walk over to the other side of her bed and grabs ahold of her hand.

“Hey, I’m Peter. What’s your name?” Peter says in the calmest, most soothing voice he could muster. The girl sniffles and takes a gasping breath, tears still streaming down her face.

“I’m Y/N.” The girl whimpers. MJ takes the opportunity Peter gave her to stick the needle in Y/N’s arm. Y/N yelps and grabs Peters hand harder

“Well, it was very nice to meet you Y/N.” Peter whispers. The girl begins to smile, tears still rolling down her face.

“Thats a great smile Y/N! You’ve gotta wear it more often.” Peter laughs, trying to cheer the scared woman up. Y/N begins to laugh, but only seconds after she opens her mouth she begins to throw up more blood. Luckily MJ was ready with a new clean bowl, which caught the bloody vomit before it could hit Peters scrubs.

“Well, Mr. Parker, if you’re done flirting with sick patients, I would like to give this woman the treatment she came to the hospital for.” Dr. Rogers says.

“Oh, yes sir.” Peter says, quickly walking back to the nurses station where Ned was entering some information onto a tablet.

“Dude what was that?” Ned chuckles. Peter rolls his eyes.

“I was trying to calm a very scared patient down and Dr. Rogers basically yelled at me for it. He’s not my boss, so I don’t know who he thinks he is.” Peter complains.

“Well he’s bound to be the new chief of surgery when Dr. Fury retires or dies or something.” Ned says. Peter laughs. Just then, another trauma comes in, this time with an EMT, to which Dr. Maximoff takes the lead and Peter jumps at the chance to work with her.

Ned laughs and shakes his head and his friends enthusiasm and he walks off to help another patient.

Y/N looks at Dr. Rogers as he rattles off a list of tests he wants done to another doctor standing behind him. Sarah notices the terrified look on Y/N’s face and grabs her hand. Y/N looks over and smiled at her friend. Dr. Rogers says a few quick comforting words, but they barely register in Y/N or Sarahs ears. He gives a warm smile before he and the other doctor leave and close the curtain behind them.

“Thank you.” Y/N says, trying to keep a semi-calm composure.

“No need to thank me Y/N.” Sarah smiles. Y/N looks down at her hands.

“I’m scared. What if I’m really sick?” Y/N frowns.

“Y/N, I’m sure you’ll be fine, but, uh, do you want me to call Derek?” Sarah asks timidly.

“No.” Y/N shakes her head.

“What about your mom, or maybe your dad?”

Y/N lets out a small chuckle. “I don’t want either of them anywhere near me. And I don’t have to worry my dad yet.”

“Y/N-” Sarah starts.

“No, I’m not calling them and you sure as hell aren’t either.” Y/N says, slightly raising her voice.

“Okay.” Sarah backs off.

“Ms. Y/L/N? I’m here to take some blood, then I’ll take you for a MRI.” A new doctor says.

“More needles?” Y/N sighs.

“Afraid so ma’am.” The doctor, whose badge reads Barton, apologizes. Y/N grabs Sarah’s hand again to stop her own from shaking.

“Just do it quickly.” Y/N says, furrowing her eyebrows and clamping her eyes shut. Dr. Barton quickly draws the blood and places the vials into an envelope.

“All done, Dr. Wilson, please take this up to the labs,” Dr. Barton says, “and I will take you up to get an MRI.”

“Where should I go?” Sarah asks.

“You can go to the nurses station, and they can help you out over there.” Dr. Barton says, releasing the safety on the wheels of the bed Y/N is laying in and wheeling her into the elevator. Y/N and Sarah don’t break eye contact until the doors close, but once they do, Sarah collects herself and walks over to the nurses station. She sees a young nurse leaning on the counter fiddling with a tablet.

“Damn thing-” The man says.

“Uh, excuse me?” Sarah asks. The man looks up form the tablet and smiles.

“How can I help you, miss?” The man smiles.

“I, uh, brought my friend in, and they took her up for a test?” Sarah says. The man stands up straighter and she can see his badge that says Ned Leeds.

“Oh right, you filled out her information. What’s her name?” Ned asks.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” Ned taps on the tablet a few times before nodding.

“Okay, your friend is currently waiting upstairs for an MRI, she’ll probably be around two hours. If you want to wait here you can wait in the waiting room, or the cafeteria.” Ned smiles.

“Okay thank you so much.” Sarah says.

“No problem ma’am.”

Sarah walks over and sits in an uncomfortable seat in the waiting room and sticks her nail in her mouth, biting on it trying to relieve the nerves she has for her best friend.

The elevator door closes on Y/N and she feels a pit grow in her stomach. She begins to wring her hands in an attempt to keep her calm.

“No need to be nervous.” Dr. Barton smiles.

“I threw up blood this morning. I am nervous.” Y/N deadpans.

“So you’re not in the mood for jokes then.” Dr. Barton laughs. The elevator doors open and Dr. Barton pushes the bed out and down the hall a bit. There is a line of a few people waiting for what Y/N assumes is the same test she has to get.

“Well looks like we might be here for a few, tell me about yourself.” Dr. Barton suggests. Y/N only frowns and shifts further into the bed.

“No thanks.” Y/N mumbles. She lays silently in the bed for a few minutes before she feels a sharp pain in her stomach.

“Dr. Barton!” Y/N yells. A nurse runs over with a bowl and shoves it into her hands and she promptly vomits into it. Dr. Barton takes the bowl from her when she’s done, but the nurse stays, rubbing his hand on her back.

“Thank you.” Y/N looks up.

“No problem Y/N. We really have to stop meeting like this.” Peter says. Y/N smiles at the man.

“Alright, it’s our turn Y/N, think you can hold your beans ‘till this is over.” Dr. Barton says. Y/N nods and waves bye to Peter.

Dr. Barton pushes Y/N into the room with the MRI machine in it and helps her from her bed onto the bed of the machine. He maneuvers her into the position she needs to lay in and then steps back.

“Okay, so you stay here and make sure you stay still. I’ll be behind that glass over there.” Dr. Barton says before pushing the empty bed out of the room and closing the door.

The room is too quiet, not allowing any noise to distract Y/N from the nerves eating away at her stomach. She wants the wring her hands but the words of Dr. Barton float through her head, telling her to stay still.

“Alright Y/N, you’re going to hear some noises as the machine starts up, then the table you’re on is going to move into that doughnut thing and it’ll snap your picture, okay?” Dr. Barton asks through the intercom system.

“Yeah.” Y/N yells back. The machine does start to make some noise and the table does start to move a little bit. Y/N tenses her muscles and tries to think about other things.

She thinks about Sarah and how grateful she is to have such a great best friend. She thinks about Derek and how he’s handling the breakup. She thinks about how Derek would react if he found out she got so upset over their breakup that she put herself in the hospital. She thinks about Dr. Barton and his attempts to cheer her up, which reminds her to apologize when this is over. She thinks about that nurse, Peter, that helped her with the needles and the vomit, and she thought about how good his hand felt on her back. She thought about Dr. Rogers and his dismissive behavior. She thinks about the woman nurse who helped her when she first came in. She thinks about her Dad, and how she almost wishes he was here with her. She then thinks about her Mom, and is glad that she has no idea where she is.

“Alright, Y/N you did great. Let’s get you out of there.” Dr. Barton says, but Y/N can hear that something is off with his voice.

Taglist:

@xxxxdelenaxxxx @dashlilymark

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clown-bait · 5 years

Text

A Very Monster Christmas (Monster Roommate AU) PT6

Ok so this is the final chapter for part 2 but obviously theres a long way to go. I consider this the middle part of this whole story. Part 3 will be out later this week so look forward to that folks!

CH 23 Santa Baby

“Another successful French exit!” Leech sighed happily shutting her curtains from the blizzard that had begun outside. She jumped from her bed when a gloved hand tapped her shoulder.

“Pennywise?” her ears perked up.

“Probably not the one you're thinking of.” a gruff voice answered her.

“Oh uh hey pops.” Leech said shuffling uncomfortably.

“No need for the nerves Fangs you're family now.” Uncle Penny chuckled almost gently. He handed her a glass of warm red liquid that wide red smile making his eyes twinkle. The vampire cautiously sipped from the glass.

“Thanks? What’s the catch here?”

“No catch, you gotta put on some meat for the little ankle biters.” The older clown smirked patting her shoulder. “Speaking of the brats can I say hello?”

“I’m pretty sure its only been like three weeks don’t think there's much there to talk to.” leech finished her beverage quickly licking the glass clean as she watched her in-law approach her.

“And I’m pretty sure this will go by a lot faster than normal Fangs.”

“Has something like this ever happened before?” Leech asked pulling up her shirt to watch her insides glow.

“I had tried it with a human once while Junior slept, self preservation attempt.” he grimaced a bit at the memory. “The host didn't last long enough…” the older clown paused when the savory flavor of fear drifted into his large red nose. “Don't worry Fangs, I think you have a much better chance at it.” Uncle Penny placed a gloved hand over her skin and made a similar trill to his younger counterpart his being deeper with a jazz like flair. The lights within her flashed rapidly like lightning in a bottle. After an awkward moment of silence he burst out laughing. “Oh man those are Junior’s kids all right!! Violent little brats!”

“Great, do any of them take after me?”

“Yeah the extremely vicious ones.” Uncle Penny started to laugh again at his own joke.

“Oh come on! I’m not that bad!” the vampire huffed pulling down her shirt and going back to licking the cup clean.

“Oh trust me Peachy you're bad.” Pennywise Junior stood in the doorway and smirked.

“You like it though.” Leech beamed reaching for him to join her.

“You are very right my dear. I love it.” he grinned back leaning down to nuzzle his nose against hers. “I missed you.” he whispered warmly. The elder clown rolled his eyes.

“Get a room ya heathen.”

“I'm in it, you however are welcome to leave at any time.” the younger Pennywise cocked an eyebrow at his older self as he pulled his mate’s legs over his own. His uncle made a face and left to rejoin the other murderers downstairs shutting the door with him. “I’ll tell your mom you weren't feelin’ good. Don't bounce my grandkids around too much Junior.”

“Oh my god leave.” Leech groaned as her mate cackled his bells bouncing with him.“What’s put you in such a good mood?” the vampire asked as her hands found their way into Penny’s ruffles.

“Your mother fed me more cookies!” he purred. “She also wants you to wear this hat.” her clown pulled a santa hat over her bald head then grabbed the little puff ball on the end to play with.

“Wow you are easy to please.” Leech chuckled.

“Come, I wish to see Krueger beaten into submission by your video gaming before he leaves.”

“Maybe later Pen I want to be alone for a bit.” Leech mumbled and then grew silent again. Penny sniffed the air and roughly cupped her cheeks “Talk.”

“Am I really that easy to read?”

“Like a book.”

“Well since there's no hiding it. I'm overwhelmed.” she sighed and rested her head on her clown’s warm chest. “All this, the pregnancy, my mom, Mike Hanlon, finding out I'm a useless bargaining token. Did I tell you I still can’t influence minds without bleeding all over the place? Talk about a blow to my self esteem.”

“Peachy” her clown removed her from his lap and rose to his feet pulling her up to stand equal with him. “Do you know why I bonded myself to you?”

“You have an insatiable thirst for undead pussy?”

“Other than that.”

“I'm at a loss.”

“Because you are incredibly stubborn.”

“I can't tell if that's a compliment or not.”

“In all my time here you are the only thing I have met with enough fight to bare my offspring. Anyone of lesser will would not survive, you were made for me my love.”

“You could've just you like your women high strung.” Leech laughed to herself and hugged her clown tight. She couldn't tell if it was from the hormones or just the feeling of hugging him that made tears well up in her eyes and she quickly buried her face to hide it as feelings came out in waves. “Shit. Now you've gone and made me cry.”

“It was not meant to insult-“

“I love you. Stop talking.”

“No.” he hummed petting the soft hat on her cold head. “I brought the plant with me!”

“The what?”

“The kissing plant the one you hang up?”

“Mistletoe?”

“Yess!” the clown bounced excitedly pulling said plant out from seemingly nowhere “I want to use it! That is what one does with their mate on this day yes?” he stared at her eagerly as he worked at fastening it to the ceiling.

“Move it over the bed.” Leech tugged at him a bit till his unnaturally long arm was over her mattress. “Perfect. Get over here baby daddy.” she giggled through her sharp buck teeth. Pennywise joined her with a trademark cackle that trailed off as he pulled her close cupping her cheeks in his large hands.

“What about our guests darling?”

“Fuck em. Party’s over anyway, we’ll just say I was having an emotional hormone breakdown or some BS.”

Pennywise made an amused rumble and brought his lips just out of reach of hers stopping to take in her scent. He shut his eyes and inhaled deep as thick sweet smells assaulted his senses. “I love you too little hunter.” he growled out seconds before smashing his lips into hers. Leech could feel the heat of his warm plump lips engulfing hers that were extra cold in the winter air. His embrace was heated as his talons pressed into skin and fangs sloppily dragged against lips.

“You know” Leech panted between furious kisses “Mistletoe is a parasite.” Pennywise shoved his mate backwards onto her bed and crawled on top of her pinning her body with his massive form. His lips latched back onto her nipping at the soft flesh with his teeth while grinding his squirming erection down against her hips. He pulled off panting and still dry humping her making a goofy smirk in realization “Like our children!” he giggled.

“Oh my god you can't call them parasites” Leech laughed and gasped as Penny licked and kissed his way to her waistband dragging his long fingers over her stomach. “NO! OH GOD THAT TICKLES NO!” she shrieked and jolted as his claws ghosted over her skin. The clown’s eyes lit up like the twinkling lights that decorated the houses outside.

“Does it now? Maybe Pennywise should punish you for being so naughty this year hmm?”

“Oh no! NO PENNY!” Leech squealed as her clown started his assault laughing with her and getting lost in the moment. Deadly talons meant to slice throats sheathed themselves replaced with soft gloved fingers that danced ever so gently over her skin as she giggled and thrashed.

“Naughty, Naughty, Naughty!” he chanted as continued to attack her. Leech tried to grab his arms to stop him but Penny snarled grabbing her shirt and pulling it up off her head in one swift motion leaving it on her wrists as a makeshift restraint. He smirked in her face as he held her arms up brining his free hand back over her body. The clown bowed his head down and for the first time noticed the red lingerie she had hidden from him underneath her baggy pajamas. Pennywise sat as still as a statue until he a low rumble dripping with lust rattled from his throat. The eldritch’s claws ran up her sides in a much less playful way, all the way up till each cupped an entire breast and the creature loomed over his mate with an absolutely feral look in his eyes. “NaUghTy.” he hissed his voice baritone and distorted and Leech swore she saw steam leave his lips..

“Merry Christmas Ruffles.” Leech smirked her long front fangs shining in the moonlight.

The clown growled and manhandled her up till she was sitting on his lap his costume melting away into a more “holiday appropriate" one complete with a santa hat of his own. Leech impatiently pushed open his cherry red coat feeling his steel muscles underneath only to have her throat harshly grabbed and fangs graze her ear. Pennywise squeezed her neck tighter as he moved his nose and fang filled lips over the skin on her face hissing and inhaling her adrenaline filled scent. “Tell me naughty girl what’s your name.” he snarled pulling her face against him by her jaw. Of course he'd want to make this into some perverted Santa role play. Leech smiled nervously as her breathing labored under his iron grip.

“L-Lee-“

“Not tonight.” he snapped at her forcing her to look him in the eye. “Tonight you are Fuck Meat. understand?”

leech squirmed and panted “Holy shit penny…” in an instant Pennywise cut off her air and yanked her back against him.

“UNDERSTAND?!” he nearly roared and Leech prayed no one downstairs noticed the loud eldritch noises coming from her room. He eased his grip on her throat slightly letting air back into her lungs and she gasped out her answer.

“Y-y-yes sir!”

“That’s better my little toy, much better. Do you want to tell Ol’ Pennywise what you want for Christmas Fuck Meat?

“Well sir I was really hoping for a nice long candy cane.” Leech smiled and reached for his belt buckle. Penny wrenched her hand away and held it right below his jaws.

“Ohhh but you've been such a naughty girl Fuck Meat. Naughty girls don't get treats.” he growled and unsnapped her bra “Do you know what naughty girls get?” Penny practically purred returning his grip to her neck just a little bit tighter than last time.

Leech shook her head in his grasp and penny moved her hand to his buckle guiding her to undo it.

“A thick piece of coal.” he hissed as something very large and very different sprung free. It was thick and the color of charcoal, a bit of precum beaded at the top and ran down its ridges. Leech swallowed hard at the sight of it.

“Merry Christmas.” he all but snarled into her ear as he guided her hand to touch what Leech would describe as the evilest cock she'd ever seen. The organ was strangely warm and slimy exactly what one would expect from an eldritch horror. It throbbed as she stroked him and Penny groaned when her nails trailed up the sensitive ridges.

“Yeeesss” he hissed forcing her head down to stare at his demonic cock. “Look how good you're making your Penny feel, it leaks for you.” Pennywise brought his hand to her bare breast pinching and twisting one of her nipples grinning wickedly when she moaned for him. “Need to get you nice and wet my little fuck meat.” he whispered removing her hands from him and laying her down. “Wouldn't want the little ones to get hurt.” he smirked at her as he removed her panties with his teeth licking his way back up her inner thigh. He licked a stripe up her pussy and then probed her entrance lubricating her with his massive amounts of drool. Leech gripped his arm and gave him a sharp squeeze and a pair of amber eyes flicked up from between her legs.

“Be careful ok?”

The clown broke character for a brief moment moving up his mate to kiss her cheek in reassurance “They are half me and half you. I promise they will be safe.” Leech turned her nose into him smiling and tracing her fingers over his cheekbones.

“Ok…ok you can continue.”

Pennywise growled and pulled her wrists up over her head. “That's not the game we’re playing tonight.” a pair of shadowy tentacles slithered out from the teeth at the base of his cock wrapping around Leech’s legs to hold them apart.

“Tell me again nicely, what do you want for christmas Fuck Meat.”

“You.” she panted “I want you.”

“You want me to what?” Penny grinned wickedly and ground himself in the slimy slick folds of his mate’s pussy.

“P-Penny.” Leech sputtered as the ridges of his cock grazed over her clit

“Tell me Fuck Meat!” he spat stopping his movements and resting his head at her entrance.

“P-Please Pennywise. Please I want you to fuck me.”

Pennywise let out a shaky growl and sent his hips slowly forward, Leech cried out as he parted her lips. Inch after horrible inch sank into her in what felt like slow motion. His bumps and ridges dragged along her inner walls and Leech could only imagine what they'd feel like once he started thrusting. Pennywise’s eyes had rolled back and his goblin shark mouth grew out of his lips in a silent scream. She was so perfectly fitted around his new cock and molten hot drool dripped from his gums onto his mate’s chest like candle wax.

When he finally regained composure and started to move it took Leech everything she had not to let out a loud moan instead turning her head and biting down onto her comforter. She could feel the slow and steady drag of Pennywise’s cock against her walls and her legs wrapping tightly around him pulling his hips in to hit deeper. Penny let out a deep groan and snapped his hips harder arching his cock in a way that hit her in all the right spots. He knew her body like the back of his own hand and could make her scream if he wanted to. Penny gave his mate a few more test pumps then with a snap of his fingers removed his costume which cindered off of his skin feeling like static around Leech’s legs. He moved to lay on top of her his warm skin covered her cool flesh like an electric blanket as he began to hump into her at a steady rhythm. One of his claws gored into her thigh the other ripped into the mattress as steam left his lips in a breathy growl. Leech moved her own set of talons up his lean biceps then to his shoulders feeling the raw dormant power contained within the form he wore. The creature under the clown skin churred with delight as she panted out his name like a prayer. It didn't matter what form he took her as she loved IT wholly and completely and those three magic words they rarely said to one another came spilling out of her lips as his speed increased.

“Penny!” she found herself whining “Penny, I love you! Oh god I love you, I love you!” she couldn't control her babbling and involuntarily dug her claws into the marble white flesh of his back. Her clown let out a primordial roar fangs extending forward thrusts hard and feral. “Say it again love. Praise me!” he demanded losing himself to his mate’s body as he rutted into her with his new cock. He shifted it again inside her wanting to see what different sensations he could feel as his cock head flared open slightly to stretch her walls. Leech yelped at the change and Penny smiled wickedly into her skin his hot breath washing over her in waves as his speed increased again. “Mmmmmm take it Fuck Meat! Penny’s little cocksleeve! Yeesss take all of me! Take it, take it take iT!” he babbled until his language was nothing more than slurred almost-words amongst the churrs and growls. Sensory overload began to blur the vampire’s vision and she struggled to find the words until they burst out of her lungs in gasps “FUCK Pennywise I'm close, I'm fucking close! Please!” she begged him bringing him out of his trance and finally one of his hands moved off her breasts to that sensitive little bundle of nerves between her legs. Leech gasped at the contact arching her hips and pushing back into him her face straining and cracking from the pressure of holding back. “Go on my love, cum for me! Cum for your Penny. Cum cum cum!” Pennywise somehow managed to rasp out desperate to feel her squeeze and spasm around him. When she came Leech felt as if a meteor had just crashed and exploded in her body which seized tight around her clown. Pennywise’s eyes rolled back from the sensation, teeth extended forward as he grabbed her neck in his jaws holding her in place while he met his own release. His love growls rumbled through his body as Leech twitched with aftershocks till his cock stilled its pumping of floating seed into her.

The vampire somehow found her arms and wrapped them around her mate who still held her in his jaws petting his matted hair was about all she could do. Finally after what seemed like a thousand years teeth retracted from her skin and Pennywise pulled out, a trail of opal liquid floating around their bodies from where they conected.

“Holy fuck.” Leech panted as the clown collapsed with a grunt.

The eldritch groaned and yanked a blanket on top of him. turning away from his mates gaze.

“At the end there..it was almost like you were…..Pen was that your version of love making?”

The clown made an inhuman moo-like growl tucking his long limbs in as he flopped over onto his side. he refused to look at her and buried his face in the blanket letting out a low dangerous hiss.

“Look big guy I know you don't like talking about your feelings but its ok alright? I loved it and I love you. Also I'm fucking freezing give me some of that blanket.”

A pair of golden eyes flicked open then his arm lifted the comforter up like a cloak allowing Leech to slip under it and fit herself against him. She had never felt his naked clown form like this outside of sex his body was so smooth and abnormally warm. She liked the feeling and pressed herself into him more hoping he wouldn't pull away.

“How are the kids?” she asked bringing his hand down to her belly desperate to hear him say something. Finally he moved tracing his fingers lightly over her stomach then pressing his warm palm over her womb.

“Happy. You are happy so are they.”

“That’s cause their daddy knows how to make me smile.” Leech turned over and beamed up at her clown.

“Merry Christmas Peachy.” he finally grinned through cherry red lips and bunny teeth.

Leech leaned up and kissed the tip of his nose “Merry Christmas to you too Pennywise.”

The vampire buried her face in the crook of the eldritch’s neck letting his deep rumbling purrs and smells of chocolate and peppermint lull her into comfort. And forever safe in the arms of her boogie man, the queen of Derry finally fell into a deep warm sleep.

-------------------------------------

YEAH MIDDLE PART IS DONE WOOH! The good news is I have basically 4 chapters of the next part of this story already written so the waits wont be so long until I get caught up to the start of IT Ch2 then obviously Im gonna wait to see how that plays out. So yay for me finishing things for once!

#pennywise #pennywise x oc #pennywise fanfiction #it fanfiction #horror fanfiction #slasher fanfiction #its march and im releasing a christmas fic #enjoy my filth #monster roommate au

8 notes · View notes

morkmywords · 5 years

Text

Black Umbrella | EXO | Mafia au | Part 4

Masterlist | Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Mafia!AU

Length: 3k

Note: this is for that anon that asked for this, love you <3

Warnings: theres some violence and language

Pairing: Exo x Reader

Genre: angst

“Don’t even think about trying to escape or we’ll just make it worse for you,” Xiumin hissed. He grabbed your jaw in his his and forced you to look him in the eyes, fingers digging deep enough to leave a mark. “Such a shame too, you weren’t that bad looking,” he whispered with a sinister smirk and it was like a door opened and you mustered enough courage to spit in his face.

Your triumph was short lived as he dropped your face and your head was flung to the side by the force of his slap.

“That was a big mistake on your part sweetie,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “Get her the out of my sight,” He demanded and before you knew it you were being dragged away by Baekhyun.

There was a dull ring in your head as you desperately tried to wriggle away from the men who were dragging you down the all to familiar steps to the basement. The sting on your cheek burned and you could feel the sticky blood dripping down your face from the cut one of his many rings made on your cheek. You began to thrash and cry out more desperately as you descended into the darkness, the stench of blood and other bodily fluids was overwhelming making you light headed as you screamed louder. Baekhyun rounded a corner and stopped in front of a solid metal door aside from the grate in the center, he knocked twice before it swung open from the inside and you were shoved forward, landing on your knees with a cry while the door swung shut again.

You were bound and gagged, shackled to the wall with cuffs attached to chains so thick you knew there was no way they could be broken without the use of industrial tools. It seemed like a medieval dungeon the way your arms were pulled so far apart you were practically hanging off the wall, head lolling back against the grey concrete that made up the floors, ceilings, and walls of the room. You caught a glimpse of a drain in the floor at the center of the room just as Baekhyun finished tying the gag.

“Don't scream too loud or else you'll wake the others,” he threatened, “Be a good girl for Suho and hopefully you'll come out alive.”

You didn't want to know who the others were, whether it was others in the same position as you or the other members of the gang it couldn't be pleasant. You thrashed and whimpered behind the gag as Baekhyun slowly sauntered towards the door, chains rattling against the walls in an unpleasant melody. He turned at the door with a devilish smile gracing his feature letting out a dry laugh before leaving, metal door screeching closed with a crash.

----

It wasn't until what you thought was the fourth day that Suho crept into your cell with what could only be described as pure childish delight shining in his eyes. You were left in the cell with no food and only enough water to keep you alive until he appeared. On what you guessed to be the second day the heating was turned up and you started to hallucinate , you felt as though you were cooking alive while you hung off the wall in delirium. You slipped in and out of feverish dreams, scenes dancing in and out of your blurring vision while screams of agony echoed through the walls. Where they used to be something you feared they soon became normal, echoing through your cell like a constant background music while you stayed limp fading in and out of consciousness until he arrived.

The shrill cry of metal against metal caught your attention as you blinked the sweat coating your body from your eyes. The echo of boots against concrete filled the room and chorused through your head like a symphony until you visit finally settled on Suho in front of you, clothes stained with red and dark smirk on his lips.

“I'm sorry it took so long for me to reach you,” he said,”I had other……. business to attend to.”

Involuntary, you shivered as his words and the more sinister meaning behind them.

“The good news,” he continued as he took a step back,”Is that now we have all the time in the world my dear.” He turned and took slow steps towards a table which had just now appeared in the corner of the room. You could just barely make out the glistening of metal and your mind wandered to the details of what sat on the table before him.

He hummed letting his hand drift over the table, eyebrows drawn together in frustration, “What shall we start with my dear Y/n?” He asked as his hand continued to drift over the table before freezing, “perfect,” he breathed out.

The breath caught in your throat as you just managed to catch the glint of a long dagger in the harsh blue light. You tried to struggle as he walked slowly back over to where you were strung up, tossing the dagger from one hand to another as if testing it while his smile only grew.

You tried to struggle but you could barely move, weakness spreading throughout your body as the click of his shoes against concrete rang through your chest as if it was hollow.

“Before we start the fun,” he whispered against your ear, “let's take this off.”

You shivered as the coolness of metal against your skin slid up your face and he sliced cleanly through the gag and it fell to the floor.

“I'm sure your screams sound beautiful,” he whispered before pressing his lips against your own aggressively and you felt the blade sliding up the side of your arm.

----

The screech of the metal door opening made your ears perk though you remained limp, hanging from the shackles which had rubbed your wrist raw like a rag doll. Your body was littered with numerous cuts, slices, and bruises almost to the point where you didn't think there was a patch of your skin left untouched. Over the past week you had been beaten and bloodied to the point where you had no idea how your heart kept pumping blood through your body. The curtain of your matted hair hung in front of your face, blocking your view and hiding you at the same time but you could tell it was Chen and Kai who had come. You let them release you from your bindings as you slowly formulated a plan in your mind and when the final cuff was removed from your wrist you attacked.

Your body wasn't the only thing that was littered with cuts and bruises, your mind was damaged just as much, if not more than your body was. Over the past week something inside you had changed, broken, snapped as you lashed out to your right catching Chen in the ribcage and knocking him onto the floor. You moved with speed you didn’t even know you were capable of, launching to your feet just in time to catch a punch directly to your stomach, doubling over, breath knocked out of you. Before it may have kept you down but right now it only fuelled your rage more as you pushed yourself back up, whirling around and crashing your fist right into Chen’s cheekbone knocking him out for good as he crashed onto the concrete with a thud. You were about to relax when an arm wrapped around your neck from behind and dragged you away. Kai grunted low in your ear as you struggled under his grasp, panicking as your air supply was slowly being cut off and your vision was slowly dotting in and out. Out of desperation you put all your strength into driving your elbow straight back into Kai’s stomach, catching him off guard and causing him to loosen his grip so you could break free. You spun around dragging your nails down the side of his face and down his neck before slamming your foot into his knee causing him to crash onto the floor clutching his face next to his counterpart who still seemed to be out cold.

A deep sigh escaped from your throat “I can walk myself out,” You coughed between ragged breaths before you stumbled from the room, hand clutching your side. It was already obvious you were going to have a bruise and maybe even a few broken ribs but you kept limping up the stairs and through the large house, head held high.

Your cell door screeched shut behind you as you made your way down the dark basement hallway, using the wall for support is one of your legs dragged limply behind you. You grimaced and resisted the urge to cry out in pain as you reached the stairs, slowly climbing up them and away from the agonized cries coming from behind you. The perfectly shined hardwood floors squeaked beneath you as the familiar hallways passed before your eyes. There was no light filtering through the living room windows as you struggled past so you only assumed it was late at night or so early in the morning the sun hadn’t risen. The only light in the basement was the dull blue of the LED that flicked on and off at all times of the day. The constant sounds of headboards bumping against the walls and moans of names you knew all too well echoed from behind closed doors and into the hallway before the sound of a door opening caught your focus.

The floorboards creaked behind you just as you reached the final staircase leading up to the attic before someone reached out and grabbed your arm. You whirled around, yanking your arms out of the offenders grasp with a glare almost as deadly as your temper.

“Touch me again and I’ll leave you like Chen and Kai,” You hissed at D.O. through gritted teeth. At any other point the pure look of shock on his face would have caused a smug smile to burst onto your face but you just let out another huff and continued up the stairs as fast as you could, not looking back for even a second as you heard his hurried footsteps down the hall before you reached the closet that served as your room.

The door was cracked open only slightly and as you pushed it open further your heart dropped to your feet. Laying across your cot were all the clothes Xiumin had bought you along with twice as many books you had before and even makeup that matched your skin tone perfectly. You wanted to scream, rip the pages out of the books and scatter them across the room, you wanted the tear all the designer clothes to shreds and throw the bottles of expensive perfumes and makeup at the wall so they shattered. But something stopped you. Your hands balled into fists at your side but you couldn't move, you couldn't take your anger out on all the expensive things surrounding you, the gifts from him. You carefully picked them up and moved them to the side, handling them as if you breathed too hard they would disappear. You crawled into bed as tears started streaming down your face, this would be the only night you would cry, the only night when you let your emotions flow freely from now on.

----

The pounding against the wood jerked you from your already fitful sleep. You were in a state of panic, your heart beating a mile a minute, for a moment you thought you had woken up back in that basement chained to the wall but you soon realized you were locked again in the cramped closet. The knock echoed again and you sprang up before throwing open the door, glare already evident on your face.

“Let me guess,” you cut off Baekhyun who was at the other side of the door, first poised to knock again, “Xiumin wants to see me?” Your glare was replaced by an evil smirk as you saw a flash of momentary shock pass across his face. You tilted your head to the side and crossed your arms over your chest before asking, “Does the boss want me so immediately that I have no time to change? After all, I don't want to put all the lovely clothes he bought me to waste.”

There was an underlying meaning to your words and Baekhyun seemed to catch on as well, making a show of peering at his wrist watch and letting out a long sigh, muttering, “Conference room, twenty minutes,” before leaving with a scowl.

Wearing the clothes he had bought for you was like a shield, a sign of power and you were determined to flaunt it in front of the assholes waiting in the conference room. You weren't going to let them see the many ways they hurt you, they may have broken you far beyond repair but that didn't mean you would show it to them as weakness, instead it would be your strength and you would look damn good.

----

More than one shocked look made itself apparent on the men’s faces as you sauntered into the room which only made your confidence grow. You had taken extra time getting ready, making sure your makeup was done perfectly and the pair of skin tight leather pants you somehow managed to slip into matched with the studded heels that clicked threateningly as you walked and the high necked blouse you had worn on top. Scattered in with the wide eyes there were also equally as threatening glares, especially from those wearing fresh bandages in spots that were familiar but you turned a blind eye and carried on to the only empty seat left.

“I heard you wanted to see me?” You asked leaning back slightly in your seat and relaxing amongst all the men with tight shoulders and backs as straight as boards. It drew a small smirk to your lips as you saw the firm brows and tense frowns before turning your attention back to the boss who was sitting in a similar fashion to your own at an opposite end of the table.

“Indeed I did, it's so kind of you to… grace us with your presence,” he said with a smile that would seem kind if you hadn't seen it many times before and you knew it was hiding something sinister.

“What's with the sudden change in attitude? You've never treated me this way before?” You asked all but innocently.

“Your right my dear,” he sighed, leaning his elbow on the arm of his chair and resting his chin upon his hand, “This is a new situation for us both.”

You looked the man sitting opposite from you up and down. Power seemed to exude out of him while he sat menacingly in his large armchair, eyebrows set in a firm line, eye cold and calculating. He looked as if he was a snake ready to strike at any moment and in a matter of seconds you could be dead with a bullet hole in your skull. And yet somehow, he didn’t intimidate one bit. “And what situation would that be?” You asked with an underlying hint of sarcasm in your voice, “Are you going to lock me up and torture me for a second time?” You tilted your head to the side locking eyes with Suho who immediately tensed when you shot him a small smile meant for nobody other than him.

“Unfortunately it’s not,” he sighed, “although that situation has come up before.”

“Then what? Are you finally going to get rid of me for good?” You asked with fake excitement and you caught a few shared looks. Though you didn’t say it outright they new what you were hinting at and it was if they weren’t sure how to feel about it, all except for Xiumin who stayed stone cold.

“No, actually, I want you to join the gang.”

“You’re kidding right?” you snorted. There is no way any of the men sitting around this table would want you to join their little mafia ordeal, especially the boss. But he stayed stoic staring straight back at you, seriousness in his dark gaze unwavering. “Why exactly would you want me to be part of your little mafia thing?’

He sighed and tilted his head to the side, mirroring your posture, “In our line of business having women is an asset especially ones who can fight and if you can leave two of my best fighters looking like that,” he said gesturing to Chen and Kai who were scowling both in anger and pain, “I don’t see a reason why I wouldn’t want you to join.”

“For the record, I was against it,” Chen cut in with a glare in your direction which you returned just the same.

Xiumin cleared his throat bringing you both back to the conversation at hand. “What do you say?” He asked, motioning for Sehun who was sitting beside you to slide over a paper and pen, “Sign the contract and you’ll officially be a part of EXO.”

“So that’s what you call yourselves,” you muttered as you scanned the contract, it seemed to be the same rules the had given you when they had first taken you but this was official, if you signed this they had complete control over your life.

“Do I really have a choice?” You asked him.

He smiled back at you and leaned back into the pristine leather of his chair, “No.”

“As long as I don't have to stay in this damn house like a prisoner, I’ll do what you want,” you let out a long sigh before scrawling your name on the bottom over the paper and looking back up to meet his gaze.

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