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eunchancorner · 14 days

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Two short stories, two longer stories, almost six Google doc pages, 3377 words and one new nickname for Liv, it is with great pleasure and relief that I finally bring you

Three times Ethan tickled his partners, and one time he didn't

Ethan delighted in the soft giggles that arose as he gently squished the small bit of pudge that hung just slightly over the waistband of Streber’s pants. One of his favorite people, who he’d seen at his best, and recently at his very worst, was healing.

“You’re getting soft again,” he commented, resting his head on Streb’s shoulder.

“Ihi knohohohow.”

“I missed your squish so much…”

“Ihit’s nohot that muhuhuch.”

“But it’s something. It’s progress. Progress I’m glad you’ve made…”

Ethan pressed his cheek into Streber’s, feeling his face heating up a bit. He loved how much the genuine affection got to the poor nerd.

Ethan gently pinched up and down Streb’s tummy, listening to his giggles vary in pitch, from his normal voice to high and silly, admiring every adorable sound.

“I think your new squish is even more ticklish than before~,” he teased, adoring the flustered squeak he earned, and unable to resist giving his cheek a little kiss.

“I love you~”

“Ihi love youhu tohohoo.”

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“LIV GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!”

“It’s too late, Ethan, I can’t unlearn your weakness!”

The two had been locked in a chase around the house for several minutes. Ethan had recently let slip a particular secret of his to her sneaky questions, and now he was determined to make her pay for it. The only problem was that she was well-versed in running from her partners’ wrath, so he was having a tough time cornering her. However, he was also growing adept at chasing down his partners, so he had a few tricks of his own.

One of which came in the form of a very conveniently timed boyfriend.

“LEON, GRAB HER!” he shouted as Leon rounded the couch, which he was chasing her towards. In one swift motion, Leon grabbed her under her arms and swooped her up off the ground, leaving her legs to kick uselessly in midair as she protested using several threats and curses.

Ethan stopped in front of the two, taking a minute to catch his breath, before pointing at the redhead.

“You. Did you think you’d get away with that little stunt?” he questioned her.

“Yep, AND I was absolutely gonna remember it, too! I’d FINALLY have a leg up in our tickle fights, you giant ler!”

“Well, now you’ve earned yourself a one-way ticket to getting wrecked, good job. May I, Leon?”

“LEON- I swear to fuck if you hand me over to him I am gonna dump ALL of your protein powder into the toilet!!”

Leon gave the small redhead in his hands a glare at the ill-timed threat, shortly before handing her like a ragdoll over to their boyfriend with the simple statement; “Go nuts.”

“W-Wait! Leon! THAT WAS A PROMISE!” she called after him as he returned on his original route to the kitchen, before looking back at Ethan.

“Hi~”

“U-uhm, hi?”

“Wanna apologize for your little shittery?”

“I don’t apologize for that. You know this by now!”

“Really? So you’re just gonna let this happen?”

“Let what ha-” she cut herself off as she realized what he meant. “Oh. Fuck.”

The chuckle Ethan let out was unnecessarily threatening, and Liv felt herself forcing down a nervous smile of her own.

“E-Ethan, no! I-I- I swear, i-if you tickle me, I-I’ll tell someone about it! You won’t know who, and you won’t know when until it’s too late!” she warned, wriggling in his grasp, trying to get herself down.

“Hm, guess I’ll have to tickle ya until you promise not to tell anyone!”

“Wait what-”

She squealed suddenly as Ethan practically threw her down onto the couch beside them and dug his fingers into her ribs, prompting her to grab onto and pull at his arms.

“Ehehethahahan! Nahahoho! Youhu jeheherk!” she insulted him, inadvertently digging herself a deeper hole.

“Liv, the more you fight, the worse it’s gonna get. If you wanna get out of this, you have to be nice. Start by apologizing for being rude~”

“Nehehever! Ihi’ll nehever gihive ihihin!!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her stubbornness, especially considering how hard she was already laughing. Never change, Liv.

He grabbed her left hand, hoisting it up over her head and raking his fingers from her underarm, down her ribs and side, all the way down to her hip, then right back up, causing her to squeal and smack at him with her remaining hand.

“NyAhaHAHahaHAHaha EHEthahaHAN!! WhYhy THAhahAHAT?!” she demanded, her laughter gaining a quality Ethan could only describe as fittingly chaotic. She attempted to twist away from his hand, only to find that Ethan had very well adapted to keeping up with her constant moving.

“Because it makes you sound adorable!~ And because it’s even worse for you, which isn’t as big of a reason, but still a reason. Tell ya what. I’ll make a deal with you. All I want you to do is say sorry for being a little shit today, and you’ll be free! Sound good?~”

Once again, in all her stubbornness, Liv shook her head in refusal. She was always determined to keep from apologizing for her (admittedly harmless) actions, but unfortunately, Ethan seemed to have gained his patience back.

“That’s ok, I’ve got all the time in the world to keep tickling you until you change your mind!~”

“BUHuHUhuHUhuHuhuT Ihi’m TOOHOhohO TihiHIHIcKLihIHISh!! IHI’LL DihihIHIHIE!!”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic! You might be extremely, adorably ticklish but you won’t die! You’ll just either succumb to cotton brain or have to apologize,” he reasoned, “If you were gonna die, it’d probably be from this.”

Suddenly, he let go of her hand and began raking his newly freed hand up and down her other side, moving in the opposite direction to the other, raising her laughter up much higher than he expected.

“FUHUHUHUHUHUCK EHEHEHETHAHAHAHAN!! IHIHIT’S TOHOHORTUHUHURE!! TOHOHORTUHUHUHUHURE!!!” she practically screeched, grabbing onto his hands and flailing every which way in an attempt to escape, even going as far as to attempt to shake his arms to try to pull him off.

“And yet you know exactly how to get me to stop! But you’re not gonna, are you? Because however much you yell it’s ‘torture’ or that it’s gonna kill you, you’ll always keep being a little shit, just so someone will pin you down, and tickle you until you can’t think because it’s just so fun. Isn’t that right?~”

“SHUHUT YOUHUHUR FAHAHAHACE!!” She tried to cover his face with one hand.

“You’re not even denying it at this point! But, I know exactly what’ll get to you. Exactly what’ll get you to apologize, and end your supposed torture~” Ethan cleared his throat and leaned in close to make sure she could hear him.

“Tickle tickle tickle~”

“EHEHETHAHAN NOHOHO!!”

“Tickle tickle tickle~ Such a cute little ferret getting her tickles~”

“YOUHU AHAHAHASS!! NOHO TEHEHEASIHIHING!!”

“But why not, hm? Can’t I give a cute lil ferret her teases and tickles?~”

“WHEHERE DIHIHID THEHE STUHUPIHID FEHEHERREHET THIHING COHOME FROHOHOM?!”

“Well, you’re just like one! You’re wiggly and hyper and love causing mischief until someone gives you attention. So now, you’re a wiggly, ticklish little ferret, who’s getting all her tickle-tickle-tickles~”

“FIHIHINE FIHIHINE IHI’M SOHOHORRYHYHY! NOHO MOHOHORE TEHEHEASIHIHINGGG!” she finally gave in, and Ethan let go, just as he had promised, letting her make her attempts to stop laughing and even out her breathing.

“Youhuhu… ahare fuhucking ruhuhuhuthlehehess…” she managed as she slowly calmed down, earning a soft chuckle from Ethan.

“Maybe you’ll remember that next time. Of course, whether that stops you or spurs you on is up to you~”

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“EHEHETHAHAHAN PLEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Aww, what’s wrong, Leon? Too ticklish for tummy kisses?~” the goth cooed at his hysterical boyfriend, before peppering soft kisses all over his belly for the second time in a row. In response, he could feel Leon smacking the top of his head as though trying to dislodge him, despite having literally asked for this.

“C’mon, don’t try to push away now. I thought you wanted a soft night in tonight~”

“IHI DIHIHID BUHUT- FUHUHUHUCK!! NOHOT THEHEHEHERE!!” he squealed as Ethan’s kisses trailed around to the side of his tummy, which somehow seemed to be much worse than the middle.

“There’s so many little spots on your tummy, you’re so adorable. My big puppy boy~”

“IHI AHAHAM NOHOT A PUHUHUPPY!! YOUHU FUHUHUCKER!”

“Are you sure? Even if you wanna pull the tough guy routine, you’re pretty puppy-like. You have lots of energy, you’re friendly, you love having your tummy tickled, and if I do this…” Ethan gently pressed his thumb just above Leon’s belly button, making him kick out one of his legs in response. “You kick like a puppy, too! So, I’ve come to the conclusion that you are, in fact, a puppy. Hm, Streber would be proud of me.”

“HEHE WOUHUHUHULDN’T! GOHOHOHOD, EHEHEHETHAHAHAN!” Leon pushed at his boyfriend’s shoulders, pure instinct driving his actions. He loved this, he knew he did, no matter how flustering it was.

But Ethan was never going to hear that.

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Ethan loved his feared ler status.

He found himself lucky to be in a household with so many partners that loved to tickle and be tickled the same way he did, and he found himself even luckier to usually be the one who ended up tickling the others. He was sure he’d won the most tickle fights in the whole house.

Well, next to Aria.

Him and her had been tied for the longest time; Ethan because he never resisted the urge to strike, and Aria because she knew how to keep people from predicting when she’d strike next.

But today, he was going to change that. Ethan was going to show Aria who the most feared ler in the house was, by sneaking up on her and tickling her until she admitted it was him.

And now he was so close!

Closer…

He crept up behind her as she leaned on the back of the couch, idly watching the news.

Closer…

He could hear her humming. She sounded so distracted.

Closer…

He could practically hear her laughing already.

Closer… NOW!

“GOTCHA- WHOA! FUCK!!”

He’d lunged at her, and was taken by surprise when she whipped around, grabbed his wrist and lifted him with her free hand, slamming him down onto the couch, all the air rushing out of his lungs on impact. He coughed a bit as he regained his breath, looking up at her looming over him, her hand still on his chest and his wrist still locked in her grip.

“Uhm… hi?” he smiled innocently.

“Hi there,” she gave him an equally innocent look. That’s never a good sign.

“Well… uhm… how exactly did you do that?”

“Well, you remember how in high school I took ballet one year, and karate the next?”

“L-Listen, you can’t keep blaming all the weirdly impressive shit you do on the weird shit you did in high school!”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said they didn’t have a hand in it, but I have been training with Leon lately!”

“Of course…” he rolled his eyes. It always fucking ties back to Leon.

“So, mind telling me why you were sneaking up on me like a creep?” she raised an eyebrow at him.

“W-well, I was uh-” he was cut off with a grunt as Aria’s weight suddenly shifted to the hand that was on his chest as she pulled her legs over the back of the couch; one landing between Ethan’s own legs and one in front of the couch.

“Oww… It hurts when you do that, y’know,” he told her, earning a small eye roll.

“So you’ve complained before. Now answer my question.” She smiled as she saw his eyes widened. He thought I forgot.

“S-so, uhm, I-I was uh… w-well… I… was… uh…” he fumbled for an answer that didn’t incriminate himself, and found himself unable to come up with anything.

“You were plotting something, weren’t you?”

Oh fuck.

“But,” she glanced over the back of the couch, “since you didn’t bring something with you, I’m gonna assume you weren’t planning on doing anything that might result in a lecture from Streber. You weren’t planning on trying to take that little title, hm?”

“Wh-what title could that be?” he asked, averting his gaze, trying to suppress his nervous smile.

“The title of the biggest ler in the house. Because that title belongs to me. And you know how I know that?”

Oh she is absolutely setting this up but how can I NOT-

“Because you’re a cocky jerk?” he smirked at his own words, feeling a tinge of confidence.

That confidence faded as soon as her eyes narrowed at him.

“Because you are awfully ticklish to gentle tickles. Aren’t you?~” she leaned in all too close as she asked, “And luckily for you, gentle tickles are my specialty~”

“W-what are you… i-implying?” he asked cautiously, his eyes locking onto her hand as it moved from his chest to the side of his face.

“I’m implying,” she began as she began tracing behind his ear, causing him to choke down giggles already, “That I’m gonna do to you exactly what you were planning to do to me. Except I’m actually going to make it effective, because we all know what makes you tick, Eth. And you are going to admit that I’m the biggest ler in the house. Or at least the scariest.”

“Ihi- I’m n-not denying y-you’re the s-scariehest, Jehesus fucken Christ,” he managed, feeling his heart pounding in his chest from the threat of tickles alone. “B-but you are not th-the biggest leher… that’s me.”

“Hm. Then it looks like I am going to tickle you for the biggest ler title.”

“Oh th-that’s just n-nohot fair…”

“It’s completely fair! After all, isn’t that what you were gonna do?” she began to trace down his neck, causing him to squeak and grab her wrist. She raised an eyebrow at him, moving her finger in slow circles in the spot it was trapped in.

“Let go of my hand, or I’m going to tickle you so bad you won’t even be able to think about today without getting in a lee mood,” she warned, and the look she had made Ethan sure she was being very serious, so he did as she said.

“Good, now how am I going to do this, hm? Should I play a little first, see how loud I can make you laugh without going for your worst spot, or should I go for that infamous little kill button right away?~ And even so, which one? The one where my hand would be trapped to trace until you can finally lift your arm, and even then there’s no guarantee I’ll stop, or do I go for the one where you can’t protect your poor little spot, leaving me to trace in whatever little shapes I want, and all you can do is laugh and laugh and laugh, because we both know you won’t be able to get out a single word. So many decisions to make, and the longer I take to make them, the more flustered you’ll be, but I think I know what’ll make it ten times worse. One simple little question, that you ask all too often; What do you think I should do?~”

I think you should be less fucken terrifying, he thought, but truthfully he didn’t know if he could get a word out. Being teased by anyone else isn’t so bad, but this was Aria. She knew exactly how to get to him too flustered to manage a word, and it was working all too well. He tried to give any kind of answer, but the words caught in his throat, and all he could manage were a few flustered squeaks.

“Ethan~ If I can’t get a straight answer, I’ll just have to decide for myself, and you know I’ll pick what gets you the most~” she warned him, hovering her hand over his ribs and watching him flinch and try to squirm away, pressing his arm to his side in an effort to block her.

“A-aria… P-plehease…” was all he could manage. He wasn't sure what he was trying to ask for, maybe mercy, but either way she seemed to be having none of it.

“What’s wrong, darling? Too scared to give me an answer? That’s ok, I think I know exactly what to do~” she cooed before she began to gently pinch up and down his side, causing him to finally release all the laughter he’d felt bubbling up in his chest. He squealed and twisted under her in an attempt to hide himself, but a quick scribble to his other side sent him right back onto his back.

“Arihiahahaha! Plehehease, wahahahait! Nohohohoho!” he begged, resisting the urge to grab her wrist again and instead opted for grabbing his own shirt to try to ground himself.

“I don’t think I will, Ethan~ We’ve both waited long enough for me to tickle you, and if you had to wait any more, I think you’d regret saying that, wouldn’t you?” She began to skitter her nails lightly against his ribs before he could answer, making him laugh louder and kick his legs to try to dispel the energy. She chuckled softly as she watched him struggle to sass her, unable to get any sort of coherent thoughts within the fireworks of his brain to come up with something snarky to say. She traced up and down his ribs, delighting in every squeak and change in pitch, listening to him come so close to absolutely losing it just because he was that much worse off with such gentle tickles. As much as she wanted to dig in and watch him flail, listen to him cackle, she knew this was so much worse.

Occasionally she’d dip just between his ribs and underarms, ripping a squeal from his throat, and just as quickly, she’d be back to his ribs. She could see how badly it got to him; the way he’d tug at his poor shirt when she got a little too high and yet how he’d just barely whine when she’d leave it alone so fast.

“What’s wrong, Ethan? Can’t handle your tickles? Why are you so whiny, hm? Is there something you’re expecting?~” she couldn’t help but tease him, knowing exactly what he wanted; for her to finally go after his death spot, for his brain to fill with fog and fireworks and be able to do nothing but laugh, to fulfill the buzzing anticipation that only got worse every time she tricked him.

Gradually she let up under she had her hand just hovering above that little spot that she knew she could destroy him with, smirking as she listened to his nervous, giddy giggles.

“Well, Ethan?” she asked, “Got anything to say?”

“P-plehehease, Ahariahaha… I-Ihi’m sohohorry, y-youhu’re th-the bihihiggehest leheher, I wahas wrohohong… plehehease, juhust doho ihihit ahalreheheheadyyy…”

Aria blinked down at him. He’s… asking me to wreck him. Just like that. In exchange for admitting it, he wants me to destroy him.

She smiled, and then she chuckled quietly.

“You’re adorable when you’re desperate~”

Before Ethan had time to process it, his wrist was released and he felt an unbearably gentle tracing in that little kill spot between his underarms and ribs, sending him into utter hysterics. She watched as his shoulders shook with laughter, his arms clamped to his sides and he tossed his head back, and yet he seemed almost relaxed. She knew why, too; the anticipation of going after his worst spot was finally over, he finally got the tickles he’d been expecting from her.

After a few more moments of tickling him senseless, she finally let up, gently patting him on the head and giggling softly as he batted at her hand.

She looked up to see their other six partners staring at her from a few feet away, all six pairs of eyes wide and all six faces blushing. She couldn’t resist the urge to smirk and raise her hands in wiggling claws, which sent all of them running in different directions, watching Confi struggle to make a decision before following Liv to her room.

Title secured.

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smokersbaby · 9 months

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Request text: hi love !! may i please have n.7 and n.11 from the NSFW prompts with my sweet corazon? happy birthday my love!!! Written for: @leakyweep Character: Corazon (Rosinante) Reader: female reader Prompts: NSFW: #7 - the adrenaline of being caught - #11 - begging for your release NSFW TW: semi-public sex, fingering, penetrative sex, oral sex (giving), cumshot Total word count: +1,6k Author's note: Hey Liv! Thank you for the request, sorry if I made you wait! This is my very first time writing for Cora so I hope you like it (and I hope to write for him again because it was fun hehe), enjoy! 💕 -Every reblog is highly appreciated!-

Even though you knew well that Corazon didn't have a chance to go into the water and come swimming with you, he seemed quite happy when you asked to spend a summer's Sunday on the beach together. The truth was that Corazon was enthusiastic just by thinking of having the chance to stay with you all day long, and the idea of relaxing on the beach towel and snuggling in each other's arms was all he could think about.

Unfortunately, lots of people had the same idea as you, and you ended up on a tiny beach surrounded by loud and noisy people enjoying a warm day in the calm water and having fun on the seashore. As the sun grew high in the sky, the shiny surface of the sea was attracting you more than ever, as if it was asking for you to jump in it and refresh yourself. You knew well that Corazon, due to his devilfruit, couldn't possibly come into the water with you, but he wasn't the one trying to stop you from having a nice swim.

"Do you mind if I dive for a bit, Cora?" the apologetic sound of your tone was clear, but he smiled back at you because he was more than glad seeing you able to enjoy the sea even by yourself. "Sure thing, love. I'll wait for you here". Corazon was sitting on the beach towel making sure to be under the shadow of one of the trees surrounding the area to not "cook" his head under the sun.

As you jumped into the refreshing salty water, the eyes of your lover were fixed on you, feeling lucky to be able to have you as his partner. After 10 minutes or less, you were already tired of swimming by yourself since Corazon couldn't come with you, so you came out of the water to lay on the towel with him and maybe snuggle a little.

But Corazon had other intentions. The way your skin shined because of the dripping water on it was enough to give him a boner, plus, that bikini you were wearing emphasised those curves of yours he loved so much. Corazon grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you down on the beach towel with him, making you trip on his body. You could feel his bulge pressed against your stomach as you were laying on top of him.

A sudden blush appeared on your cheeks realizing that there were people all around you on that beach. "C-Cora what are you doing? We can't do it there…" You sat down near him nervously and afraid of someone staring at you two. "Y/N come on, I just wanted a kiss" he replied teasing you and kissing your cheek, slowly going down to your neck to leave a bite there.

"There are people… watching us" was your faint excuse to send him away, but somehow all you wanted right now was him fucking you real hard because of how much he was making your body feel hot. You were praying in your head that the wetness between your legs couldn't be seen through that bikini of yours.

Corazon stood up offering his hand winking "I know a place" he whispered. As you grabbed his hand, he picked you up in his arms because as tall as he was it was much easier for you to be held by him than to walk on your own and run to keep up with his long footsteps. He started walking through the little pinewood surrounding the beach, Corazon stumbling between the roots of the pines risking to make you fall twice.

"Hey, slow down" you reproached him, but he didn't listen, Corazon was too excited to wait any longer, all he had in mind was to pin you with his body and fuck the life out of you. Soon he spotted a little abandoned cabin in the middle of the pinewood. As he brought you inside, he placed you down just to pick you up again but this time holding your body in front of his and pinning you between the wall and his torso.

"Mmh Cora…" your voice was muffled by his kisses, as he leaned down to bite your neck, a lewd moan escaped your mouth. Corazon placed his hand on your mouth, looking at you without telling a word as to ask you to stay silent. Footsteps of other people near that tiny cabin were hearable since right outside there was the main path to reach the beach where you were before.

In less than a second, Corazon used his devilfruit's power to mute the area of the cabin you were inside so that even if you wanted to scream his name, no sound would have come out of your mouth. Unfortunately, even if now you could have fucked as wild as you wanted, the door of the little structure didn't have a lock, so you two hoped no one would come there just to find two lovers inside busy with passionate intercourse.

"Who cares," you thought, the way Corazon was holding your body against that wall wasn't allowing you to think about consequences, so you just gave in to your passion. A minute after, your bikini was on the floor and Cora's shorts too, your legs wrapped around his waist to not fall as your lover kept kissing and biting your exposed neck.

Your skin was still wet because of the swim you had before, Corazon's hands sliding on your body as to savour every curve of you, just to stop between your legs, one of his long fingers stretching your soaked cunt for him as his thumb rubbed your swollen clit. "C-cora…!" you whimpered, but no sound came out of your mouth because of the effects of his power. A grin appeared on his face noticing how you were already contorting under his touch, and he wasn't even already fucking you with his cock.

As he leaned down on you, he started kissing your breasts just to tease you more, knowing well the only thing you were waiting for was him buried deep inside of you filling your needy pussy. The little bites he loved to leave on your nipples were the thing he knew that made you lose your mind and ask for more. So you did, lifting his head from your chest to make him look at you, his brown eyes locked in yours as you mimed a "love me" with your lips.

The way he pounded himself deep inside of you knocked the breath out of your lungs for a second. His thick, long cock reached soon the very end of you and you knew well that because of his size, you weren't able to take him all, but for him, that was enough to make his head spin. That little curvature up of his was hitting all the right spots inside of you, his hands gripping your ass as if his life depended on it, making sure his tip kissed your cervix with every thrust he gave you.

His eyes never left yours for all the time, knowing well that anyone might have caught you inside the tiny cabin. Both of you didn't care. He was looking at you like a feral beast, ready to devour all of you as he pinned your body against the wall, deep and fast thrusts making your body quiver and legs around his waist shake.

Your body was tensing because of how good Corazon was at fucking you, he knew your body so well that as he felt how close you were to climaxing, he started to slow down just to see you whimper. "Please…" you mimed with your lips, his pace slowing up even more. He shook his head. "Can't hear you" you could read his labial, he was having so much fun seeing you on the edge and not able to finish because of him.

"I beg you" your eyes were speaking for you. He was too sweet to keep you like that for much longer, so as he placed his lips on yours devouring your mouth with kisses, Corazon increased his pace, his cock ready to give you what you deserved.

The orgasm he gave you made you moan his name out loud, and even though he couldn't hear you, Corazon almost felt it, recalling the sound of your lewd voice in his mind thanks to all the other times he made you scream his name in bed.

Not even the time to come down your peak that Corazon pulled out his cock from your still pulsing cunt, his arms letting you go to put you on your feet. As he was stroking himself off to finish, a grin appeared on your face knowing that if you wanted a treat, that was the perfect timing to get it.

If your pussy wasn't able to take him all, your mouth fitted him even less. Corazon didn't care, because the mere view of your lips around the tip of his cock was enough for him to finish. He continued stroking himself as his cum was filling your mouth with heavy splashes. You savoured every drop of it, licking your lips after swallowing.

Corazon picked you up from the floor to his arms and kissed your lips to taste his release from your mouth. You let your fingers slide through his blonde hair and smiled at each other as you broke the kiss. Corazon cancelled the effect of his powers, the sound of your heavy breaths was now audible.

Your eyes widened in surprise as he bit your neck making you know he was ready for round two, but this time he didn't use his devilfruit's powers to silence the place where you were fucking so you had to control yourself to not moan out loud. That was risky, anyone could have heard you from now on.

"Good girl" he whispered. "Now it's time to bring things to the next level, let's see how quiet you can be".

#one piece #corazon #donquixote corazon #corazon one piece #one piece rosinante #rosinante donquixote #donquixote rosinante #rosinante corazon #op rosinante #rosinante x reader #corazon x reader #corazon x you #one piece smut

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fiction-is-the-new-reality · 10 months

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Liv my wonderful writer. I'm in desperate need of some protective Frank Castle fic. Frank and fem reader are best friends and know each other for a long time. He's always very protective and soft with her. Finally settling down they're both happy that they know live near each other and see each other as often as possible (both are harboring deep feelings for the other, but both are too dumb to admit it) unfortunately the two had a big fight and reader storms out of Frank's apartment, clearly disappointed at Frank's harsh behavior towards her (maybe she criticizes him for his one night stand or you can come up with something else) one evening reader is attacked at her apartment and hurt badly... With her mobile broken (the guy who attacked her smashed it) she's not able to call for help, so she stays at her apartment for two days until she's able to stumble to Frank's house. He finds her at his doof, hurt badly with a raging fever....

Hopefully with a fluffy ending, after Frank takes care of her and apologizing to her. I know the best friends to lovers is a trope which is rather used often. But I LOVE it so much and as a sucker for whump hurt and sick reader fics, I really need this trope.

Love ya girl =)

Thank you so much for requesting this, it’s such a cute concept. I changed it a small bit so I hope you don’t hate that. :)

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Violence and Language

Yours and Frank’s friendship consisted of almost daily check-ins, so you found it odd that he hadn’t checked in. You realized you hadn’t spoken to him in a few days, and this worried you. You called a couple of times and received no answer, which wasn’t too strange considering his line of business. Occasionally, he had weeks here and there where he would need to be unbothered or keep a low profile, so he’d turn his phone off, but he always warned you. Having waited a bit longer and still having no answer, you grabbed your coat and keys and exited your apartment. Walking to his apartment wasn’t too bad, as it was a few blocks away. You knocked on the door, but there was no answer. You gave it another try, this time you accompanied it with a shout of his name.

"Frank?"

However, there was nothing, no shuffle, no callback, and no door pulled open. There was silence. You stuck the key in the handle and unlocked the door. You slowly opened it and stepped into the apartment. There was nothing out of the ordinary at the front of the apartment. Everything was still in its place and nicely organized, just as Frank liked it. You headed towards the bedroom, finding the door slightly jarred. You pushed it, and as it creaked open, you could see that Frank wasn’t on the other side. No Frank in his apartment. Instead of returning to your apartment, you became comfortable on his couch and decided to wait.

Frank couldn’t have been happier to see his shitty one-bedroom apartment. His night was completely shit. The situation escalated, causing his arm to receive grazing from a bullet and his thigh to throb from a stab wound. Nothing that would kill him, just more of an inconvenience, and he was annoyed by the pain. Covered in blood and disgusted, he wanted to shower and collapse into bed. But upon inserting his keys in the door, he realized it was unlocked. He perked up and was ready to fight again. Slowly creeping down the hall, he strained his ears to hear anything. His gun was held tightly and ready to unload the clip. He cautiously stepped into the living room and scanned for any sign of an intruder. All was silent, but he held his breath. He knew that he was not alone. As he turned to check the kitchen, you had started your return to the living room. He pulled his gun up as you screeched.

"Oh my fucking god Frank!" You covered your face with your hands as you tried to calm your heart which was racing a like you ran a marathon. His hands trembled as he put his gun away, he had almost shot you. He was relieved that it was just you. He took a deep breath, calming his own racing heart.

“What the hell is wrong with you? I almost shot you!” He dropped the weapon on the counter.

“I was trying to check on you, I hadn’t heard from you so I was worried.” He knew that your intentions were pure, but he was stressed from the night and wore out, and still upset about almost killing you that he had become more irritated.

“You can’t just be in here like that.” His eyebrows were furrowed, you looked him over, there was a lot of blood, How much was his?

“I should help you, you look in pretty bad shape,” You wanted to change the subject, you wanted to help him. He wasn’t having any of it.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. You should go home.” He moved away so you could make it to the door.

“Frank I can’t just leave you here without helping-”

“I don’t need you here, there’s nothing you can do. Leave.” He wasn’t shouting but his voice was stern.

“Goddamn it Frank, can you please stop being so stubborn and let me help you?" You outstretched your arms to him, hoping that if you touched him, he would melt and let you in. But not tonight. Frank wasn’t having it. The last thing he wanted was to feel your warmth, both physically and emotionally. You being sweet on him would only make him feel worst for almost killing you.

He didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve love. How dare he try and not feel guilty.

He flinched backward like you were going to burn him. You stood still processing and feeling your heart begin to ache.

“Go home. You shouldn’t be here anyway, I don’t need your help.” He almost snarled at you.

“Fine, hope you don’t fucking die.” You turned on your heels and stormed back to your apartment. How dare he? All you wanted was to help and he treated you like that? Of course, he didn’t need or want it. How foolish of you to believe that he needed you. Your eyes burn from tears, and you feel idiotic . You felt stupid for being there and stupid for letting him hurt your feelings so easily. Slamming the door to your apartment you quickly made your way to the bed and laid down. You wanted to sleep to forget tonight. You prayed that when you woke up in the morning, this night would have just been an awful dream.

There was a loud noise. Loud enough to wake you up. You groaned and sat up in bed, looking towards the door, you couldn’t see anything. Getting out of bed, you slowly made your way toward the hall. There was nobody in the hallway, but the noise seemed to come from the living room. As you approached, you noticed a man standing in the living room holding a huge knife in his hand. You needed to get back to your room to call Frank. As you walked back to the room, you tried not to make any noise. As you approached your room, you grabbed the door, and as you moved it to close it, the door made a loud squeaking sound. You knew he had heard, so you knew it was only a matter of minutes before he got to you. Closing the door and locking it, you could hear him running towards your room. You quickly grabbed your phone, which had a charge of 2 percent.

Fuck

As your hands trembled, you quickly thought about what to do. The only thing you could do was to hide. Running into your bathroom closet, you attempted to call Frank, but your phone had already died. You hear the man outside, banging on the door. He would get in soon

You grabbed the metal bar you kept in the closet, you were relieved that your paranoia was paid off. The bedroom door cracked open, you gripped the bar so tight your hands were hurting.

“I know you’re in here, it’ll be easier for you if you just come out.” He moved his way to the bathroom, looking to see if you were hiding. As he made his way, you stood and quietly emerged from the closet. As he turned back, you slammed the rod against him. It collided with his ribs. He stumbled back, and you moved to hit him again, but his hand caught the bar and yanked it toward him. You wanted to fight to keep the rod, but you knew that there was no reason. He was strong, and if you kept your hands on it, you would have been too close.

You took off running to the living room. If you could just get out of the front door, you would be fine. You could run to Frank, and he would keep you safe. He would hold you in his arms and congratulate you on your bravery and kiss your forehead, as he had done before. He would be firm against your body, and that’s all you could think about. You had almost reached the door when he grabbed your arm and his other hand wrapped itself in your hair. He shoved you on the ground.

“I just want to ask you some questions about Frank and depending on how nice you are determines how well I’ll be treating you.” Crawling to the kitchen you were hoping you could get a knife, he flipped you over on your back and stood above you. “Don’t try anything or it’s gonna get worse.”

As he interrogated you, you denied knowing anything. He became angrier, and he took it out on you. He started hitting you and threatening to kill you. You felt the blood drip down your face. The warmth of the sun started to leak into the apartment, in stark contrast to the coldness of the behavior you were receiving. You were dizzy and your eyes felt like cinderblocks. He had taken a break to use the bathroom and thinking that you were too weak, he left you untied. The knife he had wielded was left on the counter, waiting for you to grab it. As he approached you, you struck. The knife slashed across his chest and into his shoulder.

You slashed again, using your fleeting strength. You made contact over and over again, but you faltered stumbling back at a loss for breath. He knocked the knife out of your hands and slammed your head to the counter.

Frank let the coffee cleanse him of his sleepless night, but it couldn’t save him from the fight replaying in his head. The look on your face when he snapped replayed. His eyes squeezed together, and he shook his head in the hope that it would disappear. He knew he had to apologize; he needed to fix what he had broken. Taking a deep breath, he reached for his phone to call you. He had to try to make things right. He pressed the call button, but it didn't ring. It was sent directly to the voicemail. He gave it another shot and got the same outcome. He almost lost his breath. He knew you would need your space but didn't realize how much that would break him.

Your body must have woken you up. You were sweating and freezing; the sunlight made the pounding in your head worse, and you listened carefully, not wanting to show you were awake. Not hearing anything, you looked around. You were alone. You began elbow-crawling to the bedroom, praying your phone was there. Getting your arm up on the bed took all of your remaining strength. You can see the phone towards the top of the bed, just out of your arm’s reach. Trying your hardest to reach, you couldn’t make it before your eyes begin shutting and your body collapsed onto the bed.

Not waiting any longer, Frank left his apartment and headed to yours. He needed to see you, even if it meant you were mad, even if you slammed the door in his face. He just wanted to see that you were still there. Making his way up to your door, he noticed that it had been cracked open. His blood ran cold.

He called you, but there was no response. He pushed slowly inside and noted the blood in the living room and kitchen. His mind raced. Making no noise as he entered the room. His eyes landed on your sweating, bloodied form. Rushing to get to you, he gently inspected you to make sure that you were still breathing.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” You were breathing, but unresponsive. He needed a rag and bandages. He helped you quickly, cleaning the sweat and blood off you. Although you grumbled, you didn’t fight against the help. To you, this whole situation was just a fever dream. You knew Frank wasn’t here, but at least your brain was kind enough to conjure an image of him. You had accepted the fact that you were fighting a fever and probably bleeding all over your bed.

Night had passed and so had your fever. Frank kept a watchful eye on you. He cleaned up your apartment and fixed your door. At noon, you opened your eyes. Blinking a few times, you registered you weren’t alone. The smell of soup from the kitchen and the sound of low music playing let you know it wasn’t anyone with malicious intentions but instead, it was Frank.

“Frank?” You tried to call out to Frank, but your voice was too hoarse to do anything, but squeak. There was tightness all through your body. Your body was unhappy to move. Frank appeared at the bedroom door, holding a glass of water. His black shirt stretched tightly against his arms, and his hair was slightly disheveled. Damn, did he still look so handsome.

“Don’t move,” He brought the cup gently to your lips and allowed you to drink as much as you needed, his eyes soft.

“What happened?” Sitting on the bed he rested a hand on your leg. You looked away from him, having trouble finding the words to say. Frank waited, he would have waited years if needed it.

While you found your words, Frank already knew what he needed to say. When he found you lying in your bed, passed out, and covered in blood, he knew he needed to tell you how he felt once you were better. He couldn’t go without you knowing he loved you anymore.

Once you turned back to him, he held your hand. You told him everything, how the guy wanted information on Frank, how you almost whooped his ass, and how all you could think of was Frank toward the end.

“I am so fucking sorry you got in the middle of my shit, sweetheart. This should have never happened to you, you didn’t deserve this. I was so–so scared that you were gone when I got here. I have never been that scared. And I’m sorry for the other night. I shouldn’t have snapped, and I didn’t mean anything I said. I need you in my life. I want you here.” He shook his head and licked his lips, you could tell that his words were heavy with emotions. You can see it in his eyes that he wants you to feel these emotions.

His truth made you cry harder. You pushed yourself forward and hugged Frank. His arms wrapped around you tight enough to make you feel safe and secure, but not enough to cause pain. Slowly pulling back, you looked back into his eyes. He was so close, you could see the small scar on the side of his head and the little stubble growing.

Frank looked down at your lips and then back into your eyes. He brought his hand up to your face, rubbing your cheek, and gently guiding your face toward him. Your eyes closed, and you waited for his lips to meet yours. Kissing him now was far better than you imagined. You hoped Frank felt butterflies like you were. You hoped his heart was racing. If only you knew just how much of an effect you were having on him. He never wanted to stop kissing you.

Finally, pulling apart, you rested your forehead on his chest and basked in his scent. Frank’s smile was so big, his eyes were bright from the love he was allowing himself to feel. It had been so long since he felt something like this. That horrible night was far from you. Frank chased it away. Now that you had Frank, you were never letting him go, and you knew that Frank would never let you go. You couldn't help the smile on your face, as you reveled in the feeling of Frank being all around you.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle oneshot #askLiv!#marvel #the punisher #punisher x reader

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olsenmyolsen · 4 months

Text

A Night In The City

master list

dark master list

No Powers AU (Female Reader X Yelena Belova)

Summary: When a blonde excited to explore New York comes into your place of work, you end up spending a night you'll never forget.

Word Count: 5.4K

Content: Sadness, Mentions of Suicide, Sucidial Actions, Angst, Happy Ending, Kissing ;)

You were tired.

Tired of your job.

Tired of the big city.

Tired of not being enough.

Tired of liv-... well, everything.

You missed when you didn't feel this way, but times change. You guessed you missed the time to change, too.

So, as you logged another book into the computer for your boss Agatha, you briefly wondered what to have for dinner.

If you even felt like eating by the time you got home...

The bell ringing above the door broke you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see blonde braids surf past a bookshelf and to you.

That's when you saw her face.

Bright green eyes, small pink lips, and bushy eyebrows. Slightly chubby cheeks were a bonus to see. "Hello!" She said in a heavy accented voice as her body hit the counter. "I'm looking for a book about New York City!"

You looked at her like she was joking, but after a moment of her just staring at you, you realized she was not. "Oh." You said. "Umm, you're in the city now... but what kind of book are you looking for?" You asked.

The woman thought before it looked like she got an idea. "Any books on restaurants or parks!?" You nodded and started typing into your computer. "Let me just make sure we have any."

You knew you did.

"Okay." She said as she craned her neck to see what you were doing. "That's a lot of books." She commented when you clicked the page. You looked at her. "Yeah... you're looking for a book about the millions of restaurants in this city."

You didn't mean to sound rude, but as the words left your mouth, you knew exactly how you sounded.

The blonde took a step back with her mouth dropped. "Jeez, I hope everyone isn't as rude as you!" Her voice sounded like you actually hurt her feelings. "I'm sorry!" You started apologizing as the blonde frowned. "I didn't mean it that way!" You went to talk more, but you were cut off.

"What way did you mean it then!" She looked pitiful. You sighed and collected your thoughts. "I mean... New Yorks a big place..." She nodded. "I know that." She said. "And as opposed to looking at hundreds of books about the restaurants and parks that'll be way too crowded or too expensive, the best way to experience it all is by just going out, walking in the city. Taking the subway to the Upper West Side or even Brooklyn. That's a way to get the best kind of food."

The blonde was hanging on your every word as you spoke about the city you used to find passion in.

"Plus, I'm sure you'll have a great time." You added before your smile faded. But the blonde saw it. She took a closer step to the counter. "Okay." She said.

"Okay?" You asked.

"Show me." The blonde smiled and rested her arms on the counter before you. "Take me around the city."

"Uhh, I- what?" Did she say what you thought she said?

"I want you to take me around the city." She said without an ounce of a joke hidden in her words. Leaving you lost to find any. "I-I can't do that.." You said, causing the woman across from you to tilt her head. "I'm working, and I- I don't even know you."

The blonde made a flat smile with her lips before extending her hand. "Well, hi, I'm Yelena. Yelena Belova." She waited for you to take it until you did. Cautiously. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N." You shook her hand and took note of the black fingernail polish she was wearing.

"There, now we know each other. How much longer do you have to work?" Yelena whined as her hands dropped back onto the counter.

You peered over to the computer and looked at the upper right corner of the screen. "It still have over an hour, but-" Yelena groaned. "Fine. Give me a book, and I'll wait."

As Yelena looked at you with her pretty green eyes, you couldn't find the words to say that you couldn't do it.

Your mind was blank.

"You're really serious, huh?" You asked, making Yelena scoff. "Of course."

Another second passed between the two of you before you nodded and pointed Yelena in the direction of some sapphic novels you loved to kill her time.

As you watched her walk away, you found yourself looking down her backside to her ripped jeans and black boots.

Once she disappeared down an aisle, you were alone again with your thoughts. But this time, all you could think was, "What did I just agree to?"

Once Yelena sat down in a chair made for little kids, she began reading a book from the selection you pointed to earlier.

Yelena quickly found herself swept up in the details of a woman returning to her hometown for a job only to discover that her former rival was now her new boss.

It was cheesy and short, but Yelena couldn't get enough.

Except for when she did stop reading to look up and see you still working from time to time.

Yelena took notice of the things you did. How you acted. How often you pushed your hair back behind your ears. She quickly liked you and was in dire need of someone new. A friend, so to say. But she could tell you were somewhat guarded.

Troubled wasn't the correct word, but Yelena could see it.

It was quiet the last hour you worked. No other Yelena's came in. Leaving you to finish up logging the stack Agatha wanted done. And yet. Every so often, your eyes drifted back to the blonde in the green froggy chair. Her eyes were glued to the words she was reading, and you couldn't help but smile at how she bit her lip as she concentrated.

But who was she?

You pulled your gaze away and again tried to think of an excuse to get yourself out of what the rest of the night would bring, but you couldn't.

It was almost like your heart was on its last line. Giving you nothing so you'd jump headfirst into this opportunity.

It wanted you to keep going.

"Alright!" Agatha came out from her office in the back. Walking straight past Yelena. "Closing time, hon!" She said to you as she grabbed the stack of books and moved them elsewhere.

Yelena got up from her spot, pushed the froggy chair in, and started walking towards the two of you.

"So, any plans for the next two days?" Agatha always asked the same question, even if you both knew the answer. Except this time, when you went to answer, Yelena spoke for you. "Actually-"

"Oh my God!" Agatha screamed and turned around with her hand over her heart. "Where did you come from!?" Agatha exclaimed as she came down from her fright.

Yelena proceeded to look from her to you and back to the kids corner. "From over there." She pointed. "I was just reading." She held up a book you were very familiar with.

Agatha, of course, took notice of that.

"Ah, looks like you picked up one of Y/N's guilty pleasures." Yelena looked at you. "Really?!" She asked you as you still stood behind the counter. "Uhh yeah." You answered honestly.

Yelena smiled wide enough that her dimples showed, and you felt something in your stomach that you had not felt in a very, very long time.

"Well, I'd like to get it." Agatha quickly wrapped an arm around Yelena and pulled her to the counter. Yelena, not looking too happy about this, let it happen. "Oh, of course, dear!" Agatha said, taking the book from her hand and into yours. "Y/N could also probably show you a lot more that she loves."

You picked up on Agatha's secret message.

Yelena did not.

"Actually, Y/N is showing me all around the city tonight!" Yelena smiled with glee.

Meanwhile, Agatha turned her head to you with a grin. "Is she now?" She asked a clueless Yelena. "Yep," Yelena said as she went to pay for the book, but Agatha stopped her. "Oh, here, take it!" She put the book into a bag and quickly gave it to Yelena. "A friend of Y/N's is a friend of mine. Especially a special one like you." She not so slyly said as you clocked out and grabbed your bag from the floor.

"Oh, thank you!" Yelena seemed genuinely grateful for the book and watched as you came around the counter.

Yelena's eyes quickly scanned your black vans and high-waisted jeans. Traveling up, she could see the entire band t-shirt underneath the open brown jacket you just threw on.

When Yelena's eyes met yours, you both smiled.

"Okay, well, you two, be safe and have fun!" Agatha said as she practically shoved the two of you out the door. "Wear protection." She whispered into your ear before closing the door and locking it.

You rubbed your ear and did your best to forget about her joke; all the while, Yelena just looked at you as you both started walking.

"So where to first!"

"Are you sure you want to do this?" You asked, confusing Yelena. "Well, of course. Do you not? You agreed, remember?" She said, making you nod. "Yes, I know it's just..."

"It's just what?" Yelena asked as you stopped walking and faced her.

"It's just we don't know each other." Yelena rolled her eyes and started walking away, knowing you'd follow. And you did. "Y/N Y/L/N, we already went over this. We shook hands. We know each other now. Okay?" She turned her head. "Now get we just hang out and be friends."

You stopped dead in your tracks.

Hang out and be friends.

That sounded wonderful.

You smiled. Like a real smile. And started walking again. "Yeah. You're right. That sounds good."

"Of course I'm right," Yelena responded, making you laugh. She laughed too because she was surprised by your laugh.

You two continued your walk in silence. The only thing breaking it up was the plastic bag with her book hitting Yelena's leg every once in a while.

"Here."

"No, it's mine." She pulled the bag away from you.

"Yes, I know that. I was going to put it in my bag so you're not carrying it the whole time." You explained. Yelena just looked at you and extended her hand with the handle of the bag wrapped around her palm. "Sorry." She said.

"You don't need to apologize." You said in a softer tone as you took the bag. "I just... I didn't want your arms to get tired."

Yelena watched you push your hair behind your ears for what must've been the hundredth time that night.

"I'm sorry if this is rude..." You started as you and Yelena turned down a new block. "But where are you from originally?" You grabbed onto the straps of your book bag and waited for Yelena's answer. "Russia." She said.

Ah. That made sense.

"How long did you live there?"

Yelena thought about her answer. "We lived there when I was a kid, then came to America before going back. What about you?" She asked, not wanting to talk more about it.

"All over the United States. My dad moved us around a lot." You remember your childhood, and not many happy moments come to mind. "Do you like it here?" She asked, gesturing to the city as you passed by a fat rat eating a pizza.

"Sometimes." You said and quickly moved on. "What about you? Is it your first time here? I mean, I assume so, but..." You trailed off as Yelena started to talk. "I've been here a couple of times. But it's always been for meetings for work, so I never got to explore and stuff." Yelena said, and you watched the way her eyes danced across the sky and the bright lights of skyscrapers getting closer and closer. "But this time, I don't have work. My sister was planning on taking me around, but she ended up being busy."

That was new info. "Oh, you have a sister!? Older or younger?"

"Older," Yelena said. "Her name's Natasha. She lives not far from your shop."

You made a note of that. "Oh, cool! Do you think she's ever been by the shop?" You asked, wondering if you had seen someone that looked like Yelena before.

But you think you would have remembered if you had.

Yelena shakes her head. "Probably not." You looked from Yelena's side profile to the sidewalk before looking back. You loved her earrings. Slowly, your eyes moved from the earrings to her neck. You watched the way her skin disappeared under her top. "She just got a girlfriend," Yelena said, breaking you from your thoughts. "So I thought I'd explore the city by myself..." Yelena's eyes meet yours. "Until I met you."

There it was again. That long dormant feeling in your stomach being broken by a fluttering.

"It hasn't been bad so far." She then added, making you smile. "Thanks." You shook your head and looked up at the street signs, figuring out the best place to go, when Yelena ran ahead of you to the other side of the street—not paying attention to the street lights or cars that slammed on their breaks.

"I want one!" She yelled back to you, making you realize what she ran to.

A pretzel cart.

"At least it's not a hot dog cart," you thought as you quickly ran to her. Sending a flat smile to the angry cab driver, Yelena pissed off. "Here." Yelena handed you a hot pretzel before taking the cups of mustard and cheese. "It smells so good!" She said as you two said bye to the man pedaling the cart.

And without warning, Yelena bit into the pretzel still in your hand. Luckily, she wasn't anywhere near your finger. "Oh, my gofh." Her words muffled by the pretzel. "If ho goof!" You nodded to her and smiled as pieces of salt fell from her lips.

Yelena took your eyes off of her lips by pushing the pretzel up closer to your mouth.

You couldn't remember the last time you had a hot pretzel or one from a cart on the street. But one look to Yelena and her big eyes made you cave.

You loved it.

"Good, right?!" Yelena said after she swallowed but not before tearing another piece to dip into the cheese sauce. You nodded. "Bery goof!"

Yelena laughed as her body brushed up against yours, as the two of you found yourselves passing by a group of teens making music from buckets and their own mouths.

As you watched with a group of other people, Yelena stole glances to you like she had at the bookstore. She found something new every time she looked your way. Her favorite discovery was two moles on the left side of your neck.

She smiled as she thought about drawing a curved line underneath them to make a smile.

Because that's another thing Yelena discovered.

She liked seeing you smile.

She was glad she met you tonight.

Moments like these blossomed as you took Yelena into Times Square. She made you take her to an American coffee shop, aka Dunkin, before you took pictures of her in front of the giant screens and crazy stores that lined the streets.

And when you weren't looking, she made sure to take some of you.

For you.

If you wanted!

Regardless, you took her to the financial district and then to a place where the noise of the city seemed to stop, past the memorial and to the tip of New York.

"What do you mean it doesn't light up?" Yelena tilted her head before looking back to the Statue of Liberty. You laughed as Yelena shook her head. "She has a torch! It should light up!" You didn't say anything but laugh because, honestly, you agreed with her. How cool would it be if the torch was on fire?! "Still cool, though," Yelena said before turning around.

After that, Yelena and you found yourselves at a bar you've never been to after exiting the subway at a random stop.

What turned into you showing Yelena around turned into a random exploration of the city.

Something you would normally advise against, but you were having fun and smiling more in a couple of hours than you had in a long time.

To Yelena, she was having a blast and didn't want the night to end.

So, drink after drink and shot after shot, you and Yelena danced to whatever the DJ played and ate greasy New York Pizza while watching guys shoot their shot and miss horribly from the comfort of a booth.

"Oh, it's my Sestra!" Yelena picked up the phone with a bubbly glee before scooting closer to you and answering the FaceTime, not caring about the loud bar in the background.

Her face almost touching yours.

You smiled as you looked at your two faces in the top left-hand corner before focusing on the person filling the giant frame.

"Yelena, where- Oh?!!" A confused-looking redhead emerged from the darkness of the screen before turning on a light next to them.

It's clear that they were sleeping.

And Yelena called them. Not the other way around.

"Yelena, who are you with!?" Yelena's sister questioned as she looked from her sister to you. "Who are you and where are you!?! It's so loud!"

You went to open your mouth, but Yelena stopped you by pulling the phone to be in front of her. "Natasha! This is Y/N! She's sweet, so don't be such a grump!" Yelena scoffed before sipping on her red cocktail.

You scooted closer to try and listen, but it was challenging due to the throwback 2000s that was playing.

But your ears did catch: "I know she's pretty!"

You turned away and smiled at that before picking up your drink.

"Oh my gosh! Go to bed! Bye!!- yes, I love you too!" Was what you heard when you decided to start listening again.

"Sisters can be so annoying," Yelena said as she shook her head. "She seems to love you though." Your drunk mind said, making Yelena turn to you. "Well, of course. I'm the best." Her face broke out into a grin that made you smile wide. "And yes, I love her." She took another sip while not so subtlety scooting closer to you. "Apparently, she was sleeping." Yelena rolls her eyes.

"So the date went well?" You rested your head on your hand and gave Yelena your full attention.

Yelena's eyes ran up your arm. Past your small stick and poke tattoo that you talked about briefly when you walked through a park that she couldn't remember the name of. And up to your fingers, where she glanced over the gold ring you bought for yourself two years ago. Past your unpainted nails until she landed on your face.

Your eyes.

Yelena nodded. "I think she had an amazing night."

It wasn't an easy trip back home.

But somehow, you and Yelena made it to your place safely.

Okay. You don't know how you made it to your place safely.

Yelena knows it's because she wasn't as drunk as you and could walk straight and could sing the real version of American Pie.

Whereas, on the train ride to your stop, you tried to convince Yelena that the Weird Al Yankovic Star Wars Parody was the real version.

But Yelena didn't know what Star Wars was and knew the original song by Don McLean by heart.

After Yelena set you down on the couch, she quickly looked around your place. It wasn't far from Natasha's due to the proximity to the bookstore.

Yelena thought your space was cute, but it wasn't decorated very well. In fact, Yelena found it interesting.

Odd. Would be another word for it.

She discovered most of your belongings were in boxes labeled to different names and places.

She walked to the fridge and grabbed a cold water bottle, knowing this would help sober you up more than the cool air had helped so far.

"Here." Yelena handed you the bottle as she crouched down in front of you. You took the water without a problem and opened it. Chugging it like it would be the last time.

"Thank you." You said into the air of feet between the two of you. "You're welcome," Yelena said back before she moved to sit next to you. You watched her the whole time.

In fact, the whole night, it became harder to keep your eyes off of her.

Maybe it was the drinks.

Maybe it wasn't.

"I had a great time." You said, making Yelena turn to you. She could smell the alcohol still dancing on your tongue, but you could smell hers. So it didn't really matter. "I did, too!" Yelena smiled. "Thank you." She said, making up shake your head the tiniest bit. "No, Yelena. Thank you."

It was hard to see because of how dim the lights behind you were, but you could've swore you saw Yelena's cheeks turn pink.

Yelena wanted to lean into you. She wanted to take this leap. But she couldn't. She didn't want to jeopardize anything. So, instead, she turned away from you.

You who wouldn't have said no. You who would've kissed her back and savored her taste. You who, if Yelena was going to be your last, you wanted to make it count.

But she turned away.

She looked at the book on your coffee table and recognized it immediately.

The book from your job. The book Agatha gave her.

"Oh wow! You really do love it!" Yelena leaned forward and picked it up. "Oh, I do more than love it." You said, acting coy. Confusing Yelena. "What do you mean?" With your foot, you pointed to a book near your bedroom door. Yelena got up and stood in front of it. "Nothings going to jump out and get me right?" She asked like a scared kid making you laugh. "It's safe. I promise."

Yelena took you by your word and opened the box. Inside were more copies of the book. Brand new.

You wrote it.

Yelena looked up at you with a fresh copy in hand. "You're Emily Hornberg?!" She said as she made her way in front of you.

You nodded. "I am."

Yelena froze as she held the hardcover in her hand. "Why aren't these everywhere?! It's great!" She asked questions and wanted to ask many others, but you held up your hand and leaned up from the back of your couch. "No one bought them." You took the book from her hand.

The touch of your fingers on her skin made her burn with pleasure.

"I would," Yelena said.

You looked up at her and her puppy dog eyes. "Take them."

"The whole box?"

You nodded.

Yelena waited for the joke to end, but you just looked at her until the room's silence continued for too long. And when your eyes darted away, that's when Yelena took a look around the room one more time.

Boxes of your things. Envelopes on top. No personal pictures throw about. Your work- a story the two of you loved waiting to be given away.

It dawned on her.

Yelena's eyes found the top of your head. "No." She said as tears slowly filled her eyes. "Please..." She said when you didn't look up, instead re-reading the back of the book repeatedly.

Yelena wanted you to look at her to see if this was really your plan. She reached forward and grabbed the book from your hand with ease and threw it into your bedroom door. You jumped and looked up.

Tears were in your eyes, too.

"Y/N..." Yelena said as she crouched in front of you, her voice the opposite of her previous action. Soft. "Yelena..." Your voice cracked as tears slipped down your cheek.

This time, Yelena went with her gut as she wrapped her arms around you, holding you close and letting you sob into her shoulder.

Apologies and a bunch of mind-twisting truths spilled from you as Yelena did nothing but hold you close and whisper into your ear about how much you changed her life tonight.

You watched as Diane, a mom of two daughters, talked about a night recently when her oldest asked them where their daddy had gone.

You held back the tears in your throat as you couldn't help but picture if that had been you people asked questions about. If you weren't sitting in a metal chair, that did shit for your back.

When Diane was finished, the time had hit six o'clock, meaning that group was over.

As people filed out, you hung back to stack the chairs with the leader, Lizzie—a thrifty-something brunette who had green eyes that reminded you of another.

"Any plans this weekend?" She asked to break up, the only sound being the clanking of the chairs. You shrugged. "Maybe go to the beach." Lizzie nodded. "And the writing?" She asked. "Has that been going well?"

You stopped as you put up the last chair.

"If you want to save it for group, we can." She said as she placed a hand on your arm. You shook your head. "It's fine." Lizzie nodded with an understanding smile. "I just have this one idea about a character. But... I don't know." Lizzie patted your arm before she pulled her hand away. "Well, I think it sounds great. Something that you should keep exploring."

You nodded, knowing she was right. Like always. It was kind of annoying but in a fun way.

"See you Monday?" She asked as you walked to the exit. "Same time." You replied, making Lizzie send you a thumbs up.

You took one last look at her green eyes before leaving through the double door. Immediately, you were attacked by someone you had not been expecting. "Jesus, Agatha! What the fuck!" You shouted at your friend and boss. "Gotcha!" She winked and pulled you close.

"What are you doing here?" You asked as she let you go. "Saving you from taking the subway, hon." She replied as she rounded her car. "You coming?" She asked, knowing that she wouldn't take no for an answer.

You followed.

"You know..." You said as Agatha pulled out of her illegal parking spot. "You don't have to keep picking me up every Friday. I'll be fine."

"I know." She replied. "I want to." You nodded and let your defense down. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." She said as she hit the CD button. "Besides, I want to show you a display I was working on today."

You looked over at Agatha. "Okay." You said before tilting your head. "It's not another Collen Hoover display because I swear to Go-" Agatha stopped you. "That was a prank one time!!" You rolled your eyes. "One too many." You mumble, making Agatha slap your arm.

The drive wasn't long, but it was long enough where your mind kept floating back to Yelena, how she held you night and stayed by your side for the weeks that followed. How you struggled and fought with your own mind and body. The good days and bad. The days that became worse.

She was there.

But it wasn't becoming easy for the blonde. How were you to know that Yelena had been pushing work off for a month after your first night together? How she wanted to protect you. How she stayed up shopping your book around to different publishers for hours after you fell asleep next to her.

Or even how she didn't hear your confessions of more fall from your lips because she had fallen asleep as you laid on her chest.

"How's Yelena?" As if Agatha could sense where your thoughts had gone, she asked a question to make you frown. "She was gone this morning." You replied, making Agatha immediately take her eyes off the road to look at you. "She what!"

"10 and 2!" You shouted. Once the car was not going to crash, you looked over at the older woman. "Yeah, she was gone this morning, and all of my calls and texts haven't been answered." You looked down at your phone and back to Agatha. "Did I do something wrong?" You asked.

"No." Agatha instantly replied. "You did nothing wrong. Besides. Let's not jump to any conclusions she maybe got busy with her sister or something."

The thought of texting Natasha had crossed your mind, but a part of you was scared, and you didn't want to have someone else worry about your dangerous thoughts.

"Alright. Let's pop in quickly, and then I'll walk you home." Agatha said as she parked the car and threw off her seatbelt. Excited to show you the new display. You follow suit at about less than half the excitement.

Agatha waited at the front door and let you go in first, but you stopped in the open doorway when you lifted your eyes. "Go!" Agatha pushed you in as you froze, staring at Yelena.

Agatha quickly followed in and locked the door behind herself.

Yelena stared back at you with a smile. "Come here." Yelena quietly said with an outstretched hand.

"Where were you?" You asked with your voice not as gentle. "In Jersey," Yelena replied, making you tilt your head as you took steps closer as you knew she wasn't lying.

You went to ask a million more questions, but Yelena surprised you by taking steps forward to grab your hand in hers. "I'm sorry I ignored you today. But I promise Y/N Y/L/N I'll never do that again." You looked into her green eyes and could feel the love. "I just want to surprise you."

"Surprise me?"

Yelena hated surprises, so this intrigued you more.

She nodded with a big grin before biting her bottom lip and turning around. Yelena pulled you to the spinning book display.

"That's my book..." You said. Yelena watched your eyes dance across the multiple copies. "It says my name. My real name..." You watched Yelena's hands pick up a copy and hand it to you.

With the spine facing you.

At the bottom of the spine, it had a publishing house logo.

Your mouth moved up and down as your emotions threatened to spill out. Yelena could see it, too. "Here." Her voice was light and soft as she took your hand and moved it to the back of the book.

Inside was a picture that Yelena had taken of your first night together. It's you standing at the bottom of the red stairs in Times Square, looking up. Yelena couldn't help it as you looked beautiful. But Yelena's favorite part of the picture is that you could see your two moles.

And on the inside of this copy, Yelena drew the tiniest line underneath them.

A smile.

"Yelena..." You swallowed a sob as you looked up to her. "Detka." She responded as you still had no idea what it meant. She saw the tears in your eyes and brought her hand to your cheek. "You did this for me?" You asked, forcing a laugh from Yelena.

"It's only because I love you."

That broke you.

You collapsed into her arms as Yelena kissed the sides of your face and head. "I lobe yov too!" Yelena's shoulder muffled your declaration.

But she heard you and smiled.

"I'm proud of you," Yelena whispered into your ear. "Thank you." You whispered back, only to earn a shake of the head. "You don't need to thank me for something that's honest and easy. You did all the hard work." You looked up at her. "I'll be here," Yelena said.

"I'm happy you came in here that night."

"Me too."

As your lips pressed against hers in a passionate kiss, Agatha adverted her eyes and found herself being unwanted at this moment.

Meanwhile, as you and Yelena separated from one another, you both couldn't help but think how different your lives would be if Yelena hadn't stepped into this shop...

But two years later, as you found yourselves at a party celebrating your second book about a hot blonde female spy, Yelena held a box in her pocket.

Happy that she'd never have to know any other life besides this one.

dividers by @/benkeibear

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randombush3 · 1 year

Text

Completely and Totally Unattached

florence pugh x footballer!reader

part two to Good In Bed

summary: everything stays completely and totally unattached. why wouldn’t it?

words: 3470

warnings: there’s a sex scene, and maybe cocaine i can’t remember (what a concerning thing to say btw)

notes: THIS IS A TRILOGY. i thought about making this one way longer, but i’ve decided to split this part into two. don’t even ask about the game timeline because i don’t want to talk about it.

Everything is perfect for a while.

You smile when you see her and she starts to invite you over hours before any sex really happens; you wake her up in the morning with a coffee and a goodbye kiss and a face that makes her question the feelings that aren’t in the arrangement.

One evening, you find an invitation to a Tiffany event sitting menacingly on her coffee table. She eyes it with caution once you inquire, and declares she hates events and won’t be going. “I hate going alone,” she mumbles in stark contrast to the confidence of her previous announcement, “and Livvy is in Oxford that weekend.”

You wait for her to ask you instead but she doesn’t. Not then, anyway.

It’s a feeble, meek, pathetic text, but you see it before she can press delete.

FP: Could you come with me?

You scramble to unlock your phone, making the sleeping Katie leaning on your shoulder whine. To keep the air of secrecy alive, you cast a glance around the others on the bus. No one else knows you’re fucking Florence Pugh.

You: Yeah, of course

Florence gets herself together when you reply, and calls you. You’ve started to associate the number with more than sex, but it’s okay. It’s a friendship.

“Thank you so much,” she begins, voice uncharacteristically tender. “You don’t happen to know your measurements? Suit or dress?”

“Suit,” you answer easily. She is quick to imagine what that would look like. Though a bit outdated, you have a set of measurements typed hastily in your notes app. “I’ll text them to you.”

Then, the day of the event comes and you spend the night attracting the gaze of everyone in the room, and having them wonder when Florence Pugh decided to make friends with professional athletes. You beam at her the whole evening, and she fights her blush when Barratt West brings up the new designs for engagement rings.

“We’re just friends,” you tell him casually, as if the statement won’t pierce through her eardrums. She’s not sure why it bothers her so much.

And then it’s almost like an epiphany.

Florence Pugh loves the footballer she sometimes wakes up beside.

Almost an epiphany, because these feelings haven’t suddenly pounced on her. She’s just decided to acknowledge them.

She figures that all three rules are broken: Livvy had known the minute her best friend was checking her phone a little too often; you stay over; she loves you.

Nothing feels different. Even if she worries she’s been utterly exposed every time your bodies touch, you treat her exactly the same as you did the night before she came upon this realisation. She supposes that means you don’t feel the same way. She knows she shouldn’t carry this on.

She tells herself she should terminate the arrangement for another two days as a form of self-sabotaging procrastination, but Thursday night’s musings turn into drinks with Livvy on Friday.

“How’s Y/n?” her best friend asks her, prying because it’s fun.

“I don’t know.” You’re in Brighton for an away game and it’s taking up the whole weekend. It’s an abnormally long weekend, Florence tells herself. Time is going slowly for everybody. “I think I’m going to break it off.”

“What?”

“My unattached sex with Y/n is no longer that,” states Florence plainly. She hides the grimace that comes with saying it out loud, and swirls what’s left of her whiskey around in her glass.

“I told you she’d catch feelings,” Liv teases, nudging her friend. Florence stares at the green surface of the bar, tapping her feet against her stool. “Footballers aren’t—”

“She’s not the one with the feelings.” Livvy pauses, shaking her head; she doesn’t understand.

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, Livvy tries the sentence out, “she’s not the one with the…”

“Don’t.” Florence holds her index up to her friend’s face. “We both know now. Don’t make me say it out loud.”

“Have you told her?”

No.

Why on earth would she do that?

The answer is conveyed in the pointed look Florence shoots her.

Her and Livvy speak no more of the matter, continuing their night in the overpriced cocktail bar. It’s packed with the rich and famous, so it isn’t a hard task for Florence to befriend some producer or other. He extends an invitation for her to join him in the bathroom, cheeks rosy and eyes glazed over. She finds herself accepting, but only does the cocaine in front of her. He tries to kiss her but his lips feel wrong; rough when they should feel soft. It’s not a difficult puzzle to solve. She doesn’t really want to kiss anyone other than you.

Florence decides not to put a stop to your agreement that night.

The producer hints that they should get going, get out of here, go to somewhere more… private. It makes her skin crawl. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s just not you.

She has never felt so embarrassed of her own internal monologue. She wants it to shut the fuck up. You like her sounds out mercilessly on repeat, echoing and echoing and echoing, until she’s scratching her scalp a bit too harshly. You’re still not back because it’s only Sunday.

You’re on the team bus. Asleep. She shouldn’t know that, but she grows curious of your whereabouts and checks Instagram. A teammate you often mention — teammate and best friend you’d drunkenly explained in attempt to not let her get to know you — is sure to house some video or other, and she’s correct. Katie McCabe has posted a picture of you fast asleep with a familiar green jumper bundled into a pillow.

She hates that she’s endeared. Instead, Florence makes a mental note to chastise your use of her cashmere clothing, and focuses on how annoyed that has made her feel.

With each passing minute she stares at the picture, she imagines her feelings for you smothered beneath the fabric, suffocated until they don’t exist anymore.

- - -

Much to your dismay, you are not loved enough to be woken with a kiss. The whistle blown in your ear is quite far from that.

“We’re here, sleeping beauty,” Katie follows with equal shrillness and volume. You press your face further into Florence’s jumper. It smells like her. “Get up, Y/n!”

“Fuck you,” you groan, yawning as you slowly stand up. “I was having a good dream.” Katie smirks. “A dream about kittens,” you clarify truthfully.

You join the huddle your team forms outside the bus. Most of the girls chat quietly, everyone exhausted from the hard fought win. A few of your teammates ask you to join them for a late dinner. Katie tells them that you have plans of your own before you can form a sentence.

A black town car parks in front of you, earning wolf whistles from almost everyone. “Someone fancies herself to be Ronaldo,” jokes Kim quietly. “Got room in there?”

The driver rolls down the window. It’s the middle of November in England, but he’s wearing aviators. “I was told to pick you up,” he says, voice gruff but familiar. There have been a few times where Florence has decided you can’t stay over and has sent you home in this black town car with the very same man. You didn’t realise she actually had a driver. You forget to associate the Flo that gasps your name like it’s a prayer with Florence Pugh.

“Thank you, Douglas,” you reply with a smile. The Arsenal badge you wear proudly makes him scowl. “I hear West Ham haven’t been doing well this season.”

“You’re lucky I’m contractually obliged to drive you to Miss Pugh’s building,” he tells you. You take it as playful, but it probably has some truth to it.

Thankfully no one else seems to catch the conversation, fawning over Leah and Beth’s joint appearance to collect their respective players. Katie sends you a wink as she gets into the car in which she’ll be the fifth wheel.

- - -

Florence thanks whoever is watching above that you got some rest on the bus.

She’s helpless the minute you walk through the door with a cocky grin. You don’t have time to comment on how desperate she must be if she’s sent a car, because you’re jumped and are carrying her to a stable surface before you get a chance to take your shoes off. She likes the idea of making out in the middle of her hallway, not doubting your strength (how can she? she’s seen you naked) and ability to be able to do so. However, Florence takes pity on you and grants you the opportunity to rest your arms before they’re put to very good use.

You have your joggers halfway down your legs by the time you get the two of you to her bedroom. She stands up as soon as you set her down on her bed. You undress quicker.

Your lips seem to cover every inch of her, but you focus on her shoulder as you pull her closer, hands wrapped around her torso. One hand shifts south, tugging the elastic band of her panties, warm palm soothing the trail of goosebumps your touch leaves. It’s soft and tender and Florence is not about to let herself do anything but fuck.

She grabs that hand and pulls it away. “No,” she says, and you stop immediately. “Get on the bed.”

Your haze of arousal clears, and you’re concerned. “You alright?”

Fuck you for caring.

“Yes,” she states impatiently. “Get on the bed.”

The victory is easy, and you sprawl out against the white bedsheets confidently. Your pose makes Florence want to absolutely ruin you.

She throws you the strap and tells you to put it on. You blush as she watches you, and try not to die when she rewards you by mounting you without delay (cause of death: too attracted to women).

You gasp as you cup the hips rocking into you, and Florence finds that unacceptable. She is not going to tolerate any ardent touches. How dare you remind her of how she feels.

“No,” she says, pushing your hands off her. “I’m going to ride you until one of us snaps, and you’re going to keep your hands away from me. Okay?”

The unexpected dominance isn’t not doing it for you, and the consequential look on your face finalises the control Florence has regained.

“More than okay.” You nod to punctuate your breathless stammer of a sentence.

Florence pulls out every trick she’s ever been taught about sex, employing every element of herself to complete the show she is giving you. And just like magic, it works.

She does eventually relinquish control of the top after an orgasm or two, sated by the way your muscles tense as if you haven’t allowed yourself to breathe in a long time.

You don’t know how it happens, but you find the groove of your usual dominance soon enough to have her asking for more as you press up against her in every right way possible.

Florence Pugh realises you might be a little too good in bed.

To console herself, she pretends each thud of the headboard against the wall is hammering the bubbling feeling of love far, far down.

The feelings survived the suffocation, and will survive this too, but it isn’t for lack of trying.

It’s late by the time you’ve both washed up, but you don’t make an effort to slip into her bed. She misses the days (nights) where you’d stare longingly at the pillows but never be granted permission to stay, and regrets ever giving in to those eyes.

You sit rigidly at the foot of her bed, accidentally staring at her, perplexed. She finds it all too endearing how your face usually lays your thoughts bare.

“What was that about?” you ask carefully, wrapping your tongue around the words slowly. You’re being cautious. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, that has got to be the best thing I’ve ever experienced. It was so hot? You were so hot, and you’re always hot — I always find you hot — but that was a new level of fucking sexy, and I’m getting distracted. You just seemed determined. Are you, well, is everything okay?”

“Of course,” she brushes off.

You know it’s a lie. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist.

“Flo…”

She hates it when you call her that. It makes her skin crawl. In a bad way. A bad way, most definitely.

“You’re really going to pretend to care?” she asks bitterly. This is apparently her plan B. “I’m fine.”

“Oh,” you reply, dejected, “okay. I was just—” You decide to leave it, ending your sentence there. She looks at you expectantly, and you climb in beside her, slipping underneath the covers as comfortably as one would in their own home. “I’m playing next Wednesday.” Florence nods encouragingly; she knows that. “And, uh, my brother was going to watch but he’s been asked to help out with a faulty set, so I have a spare ticket.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find—”

“Can you come?” She squints at you. You repeat the question. “Obviously you don’t have to, but it’s the Champions League so the game will be good and there’ll be food and I can actually set you up in the executive box, now that I think about it. So you don’t have to sit— ‘cause my ticket would be in… What?”

Head propped up by her arm, Flo smiles. “By all means, continue.” You frown. “As long as you win,” she agrees. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You feel a little used. “Goodnight, Flo.”

As Wednesday approaches, you become absent from Florence’s bed. It leaves her sexually frustrated and a bit hurt emotionally, but when you call her from Leah’s guest bathroom and explain everything she forgives you. Her anger is redirected towards your manager.

Jonas has created a new rule that only seems to apply to you. If it’s just for sex, players are heavily encouraged (commanded) to spend the night before the game away from their distraction. When announced, he purposefully avoided looking at you, perhaps allowing you to have a shred of dignity left. Leah offered her spare bedroom because it used to be yours when you first moved to Arsenal.

A harsh, impatient knock on the door ruins the conversation. “It’s late, you should be in bed,” Leah reprimands you. “Be responsible. Or I’ll tell Jonas.”

You are not in that man’s good books right now. “Don’t tell Jonas,” you grumble, flushing the toilet to make it seem like you had a reason for being in there. “Night, Mum.”

Unlocking the bathroom door, you traipse out with your phone volume as low as possible until the spare room is sealed and private. The joggers you’re wearing will be fine to sleep in, and you’re too lazy to change. Once Florence hears the rustle of your sheets, she’s quick to speak up again.

“Sleeping?”

You bite your bottom lip. You should be getting some rest, and tomorrow’s game is important. But there is something anchoring you to the sound of her soft breathing on the other end of the line. You don’t want to hang up. “So… what are you wearing?”

You’re not going to apologise for what’s about to happen at Leah’s place, even if your friend drinks two coffees the next morning instead of one. And Leah’s not going to talk about the name she hears you moan when she walks past your room at an unfortunate time.

Until she runs into you in the car park after you part ways to grab something you ‘left behind’ (it may have been a certain someone’s bum but the specifics are of little importance), and in turn walks right into Florence Pugh dressed to the nines. And then, from the car the actress just got out of, emerges Leah’s stammering teammate offering a half-hearted explanation because Flo really does look drop-dead gorgeous and you’re not quite over it yet.

Jaw set, Leah grinds her teeth judgmentally. “So this is your…”

“Friend,” Florence supplies, not caring if it’s futile and a waste of breath. She looks at you, and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, Flo and I are friends!” Not a single person in this conversation believes that. “Sorry, quick introduction: Leah, this is Flo; Flo, Leah.” Your hands wave around the space between them, nervously trying to distract the piercing stares of one set of green eyes and another of grey. “She’s going to watch.”

The two women look each other up and down. Leah crosses her arms, Florence takes a step closer to you. “I’m excited,” the actress says, though it’s unenthusiastic and entirely provocative; a jab at the sport Leah clearly adores.

“We’d better get going, shouldn’t we?” you squeak, feeling Florence’s hand rest on your waist. “Leah?”

“Yeah,” she acknowledges, though she makes no effort to back away from the silent battle. Five more uncomfortable seconds and she stands down. “Let’s go.” Leah grabs your arm and you furrow your eyebrows, leaving Florence to find her way to her seat.

“What was that?!” you hiss once you’re out of earshot. “Have a pissing contest with her, why don’t you!”

“She’s messing with your feelings,” Leah states as if it is a fact taught in primary school. She’s about to continue, but Lotte slaps you both on the bum and tells you to hurry up.

Both her and Katie give you disapproving looks when they spot her in the crowd. You’re sure you see steam coming out of Leah’s ears at the sight of Florence being engaged in conversation with her mum. You kick the ball at her stomach to snap her out of it.

Florence has done her research. It’s a thing she does: research. Reading up on characters, accents, producers, interviewers, actors, and, most recently, you. She likes to think it’s not stalking if she sticks to Google, but amends that mentality once Google becomes too sparse for new information and your Instagram is filled with little insights into your life.

When the arrangement was new, she only cared about who you were, making sure you weren’t married or something ridiculous like that. Before today’s game, she added to her mental factfile with details of how you play. A few updated statistics from the ones she skimmed before ogling at your social media, but most notably a new article from Sky.

Will Y/n L/n leave Arsenal?

It seems that a rumour is being circulated around the WSL that you’re to be traded to Barcelona. You haven’t made an official comment, but the speculation is that you’re outgrowing Arsenal. Florence then went down a rabbit hole of how club transfers work, conveniently knowing that you’ve signed onto Arsenal for another two years. It settles the growing anxiety in her stomach at the thought of you being in another country for an extended amount of time. Moving doesn’t make sense, and you are quick to shut it down when she asks.

Amanda, Leah’s mum, is glad to have Florence to talk to. She’s always been a fan of gossip, and Florence indulges her by talking about what happened at the Oscars. “I love my daughter, I love that she loves football, but it does get tiresome,” Amanda tells Florence with a hushed voice as if she is slandering the entire sport. “I was always a bit of a netball girl, anyway,” she confesses. “Oh, who’re you here to see? I was going to ask.”

Florence remembers that this woman loves to gossip. “I’m keeping the seat warm for Y/n’s brother. He’s a friend.” Your brother was a colleague who has served no other purpose in the arrangement other than his rager of a birthday party in which Florence kissed you on his balcony and you snuck away from everyone else.

“Y/n’s lovely! She’s come a long way, what with her family situation.” Florence is intrigued. “We used to take her to training when those awful people looking after her wouldn’t give her the bus money. I was glad to hear when she moved out.”

This was not on Google.

Florence doesn’t like having her privacy invaded, and so she nods passively along, not asking any questions. Maybe she’ll bring it up with you later.

The whistle blows and the match begins.

Florence can’t help but cheer along with Amanda’s enthusiastic encouragement.

There’s a moment when you look up and see her grinning right back at you, beside the family of other players. She looks like she belongs there.

You want her to belong there.

And, yes, you get tackled because you’re distracted, but you realise you have fallen in love with Florence Pugh.

tags: @pewpughpew @ridleypugh @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @xsophiesx @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz @wandasbb @karsonromanoff

#florence pugh fanfiction #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh one shot #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh imagine #florence x reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh smut #leah williamson #katie mccabe #woso #woso x reader #arsenal wfc

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ladylooch · 4 months

Note

One of my favorite blurbs you made was Timo and Liv’s daddy daughter date (the cutest ever 😭) But what happens when Nico takes his girls out on daddy-daughter dates? 🤣🤣🤣

A/N: AH! THANK YOU! I love that one too. Livy is so sassy... and mama's #1 fan hehe.

“Hischier babies! Look at mama!” Lexi calls to her girls. All three of them are dressed in matching red dresses. Nico is in one of his game day suits in the middle with a daughter on each knee and the littles on her butt between his feet. It’s Galentine’s Day! Which means all the Hischer women are taken out by their main man. Except this year, Lexi is staying home to enjoy some much needed alone and quiet time. Lexi grins as she clicks her phone to take a burst of photos. Wow, her and Nico made gorgeous babies.

“Daddy, do you like my dress?” Lucie asks. She sets her black ballet slipper against the opposite knee she is sitting on, right into Mack’s lap. Mack scowls, pushing it off her.

“Very pretty, Luc. Just like you. But please keep your hands and feet to yourself tho."

Lucie and Mack lock eyes, clearly annoyed with one another.

Nico sighs. This is why Lexi needed a break.

Two year old Sophie excitedly runs to Lexi.

“See!” She yells. Lexi turns the camera to show her daughter the pictures. Soph claps her little hands together and stomps her feet. She loves her daddy. She bounces back over to him, holding her arms in the air. “Up.” Her 'p' pops dramatically. Nico swings her up.

“Okay, girls, jackets, hats, and mittens on.”

“I hate these shoes!” Mack yells. She punts them both off, running to the mudroom to get her big puffy yellow boots.

“Well, at least we got a nice picture before.” Lexi smiles at Nico.

“I am in for it tonight?”

“Big time. Good luck with those two.” She motions between Mack and Lucie who are back to glaring at each other.

But Lexi should have learned by now to never underestimate her perfect husband.

“How was it?” She whispers to Nico as she helps him bring their sleepy girls back into the house after their busy night. They had burgers and fries and milkshakes and saw a 3D movie at the nice theater with heated seats. Nico let them each bring blanket too. They got to pick out a drink and a snack. He even let them all get the blue icee AND candy.

“Good. Lucie and Mack snuggled up together in their seats. It was cute. I'll show you the picture when we get them to bed.

“No way.” Lexi stops at Mack’s doorway with her, gaping at Nico.

“Yeah.” He says, disappearing into Lucie's room.

“How in the…” She mutters, shaking her head. Lexi and Mack struggle through getting her little pajamas on. She resists the whole time, saying she is too tired to change. “I know you’re sleepy, but we can’t wear this to bed.”

“I hate this dress. Next year I get to pick the outfit.”

“Next year, Sophie does.” Mack whines. “It is only fair.”

“But she is littler than me.”

“Yeah, now you know how LuLu feels when you get to pick.” Lexi puts her long sleeved pajama shirt over her head. Nico walks in, pulling back Mack’s covers so she can snuggle into her pillow.

“I had so much fun with you today. Thank you for spending time with me.” Mack’s demeanor softens into gooey compliance at her daddy’s sweet words. “I love you.” He kisses her forehead. After Lexi gives a smooch too, her and Nico leave their middle child. Sophie is next followed by Lucie. They find their oldest sitting up on her propped pillows, crying quietly.

“What’s up, baby?” Nico asks worriedly.

“I don’t want our day to be over.” She mewls.

“Oh sweets.” Nico pouts sitting next to her. “I had the best day with you. Thank you for helping me with your sisters. You’re getting so big.” He smooths her hair down. Lucie and Nico talk for a bit longer about their exciting night and how Lucie can't wait for him to take her to school on Monday since he will be in town. Eventually, Lucie’s brown eyes begin to close. Nico slides out from under her limp body, settling her back into her pillows. Him and Lexi tip toe out.

She grins, wrapping her arms around him from behind as they walk together to their room.

“Our girls love you so much, Neeks.” She puts her nose into his spine, dropping a kiss there.

“I am not gonna lie, I don’t know how you do it by yourself. I am so tired after a few hours with them. You amaze me, baby. If I haven’t said it recently, thank you.”

“You literally said thank you this morning.” She reminds him, running her hand down his chest, resting it on his hip. Her green eyes meet his brown ones, reliving their morning connection.

“Wanna do that again?”

“Mhm. Really bad.”

Nico chuckles, leaning down to kiss her.

Now it’s time to take care of his favorite Hischier girl.

#what my world spins around au #nico Hischier x oc #nico hischier imagine

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heymacy · 27 days

Note

Macy!! Hi!!

Thoughts on YQHBR Ian booping Mickey? <3

DRISH! HI!!!

boy oh boy do i have thoughts. in fact, i even wrote a little something about it 😉 i give you, YQHBR: boop edition

Mickey stretches, twists his torso and legs like he’s wringing out a sponge. Bleary eyes blink awake, squinting against the sunlight beaming through his window.

He sighs. Good morning.

It’s April 1st. The day of fools. He already feels like a fool, if he’s being honest, every day of his life. But that’s something he can sort through later. Right now he has some catching up to do.

He rolls over in bed and grabs his laptop where it rests on the dresser. He pulls it into his lap, flipping open the screen and waiting for it to light up. When it does, it’s less than a minute before he’s logged into tumblr.

What….what the fuck?

There’s something new on his screen, right at the very top. It isn’t an ad, at least he doesn’t think so. He clicks it, hesitant, and nothing happens.

Hm. Strange.

He decides to consult the one tumblr expert he knows.

fcku-up: what the fuck is this thing on my dash eternitysgate: good morning to you too, sunshine

It’s been a week and a half since they’d started talking. They were friends now — not IRL, but something close — and talked nearly every day. It was becoming an integral and beloved part of Mickey’s daily routine.

Ian had been on tumblr longer than anyone Mickey knew. Except maybe Cassie. But he wanted to talk to Ian.

eternitysgate: it’s called boop eternitysgate: i think it’s an april fools thing eternitysgate: they do something like this almost every year eternitysgate: one year you could spam people’s pages with digital crabs fcku-up: crabs? eternitysgate: yep. little orange crabs fcku-up: lovely fcku-up: so what do i do? eternitysgate: click “opt in”

Mickey does as he’s told. Waits. A few minutes later, he checks his notifications.

eternitysgate, staysmashed, oliviasmiddlepart, and 6 others boop boop boop

He takes a screenshot, crops it, and sends it to Ian.

fcku-up: explain eternitysgate: lmao eternitysgate: who else booped you?

Mickey checks. Cassie twice, Victor, Liv, Zoe, and Ian 4 times.

fcku-up: you, mostly eternitysgate: excellent 😇 eternitysgate: now you boop back fcku-up: this is silly eternitysgate: boop me back, bitch 👊🏻 fcku-up: 🙄 eternitysgate: go to my blog, click the little paw. but don’t accidentally unfollow me or i’ll cry for a thousand years fcku-up: 🖕🏻

Mickey clicks on Ian’s username and opens his blog. There, in the navigation section, is a little orange paw. He clicks it.

You’re about to boop eternitysgate

And then, below it, in a purple oval,

boop

He sighs. Clicks it. A tiny green box shows up at the bottom of the screen, altering him to the fact that his boop had been sent through.

eternitysgate: BOOP BOOP BITCH fcku-up: you are a child eternitysgate: I AM A GOD eternitysgate: you don’t understand mick, i’ve been doing this for an hour and a half and i’ve never felt more alive fcku-up: happy for you eternitysgate: oh come on, you know you love it eternitysgate: now go boop cassie back or she’ll come whining to me about it fcku-up: FINE 🙄

It’s been two hours and, much like Ian, Mickey has never felt more alive. He’s been booping almost the entire time, his meter ticking up, up, up. He’s booping friends, mutuals, strangers, people he’s seen in his notifications and people he’s never seen before in his life. Anyone and everyone.

He and Ian are in what the user base has declared a “boop war” — flooding each other with boops, not caring if the other person boops back first. It’s madness and Mickey can’t stop laughing.

There are memes now. Viral posts made mere minutes ago. He’s never seen anything like it, never been a part of anything like it.

eternitysgate: boop me again and i’ll fly to chicago and boop you IRL fcku-up: is that a threat or a promise? eternitysgate: both

Mickey bites back a grin.

eternitysgate: do you think they’re gonna keep this around after the day is done? fcku-up: idk, maybe fcku-up: part of me hopes they do eternitysgate: it would be a never-ending war eternitysgate: wake up every morning, ride into battle fcku-up: eventually you’d admit defeat eternitysgate: HA! not likely

It goes on like that for hours. They talk for the entire day. It isn’t all about boops, little tidbits slip in between the cracks – what did you have for lunch? how’s your sister? do you have to work tonight? – but the main focus is this inane game they’re playing, this innate sense of bonding they’re experiencing with each other and everyone else.

Mickey can’t help but feel like he’s a part of something, finally. In this game, and in the grand scheme of things. He has friends. Mutuals. People that want to engage with him. Acknowledge him.

To see and be seen.

The sun set ages ago. Mickey is beneath the covers, laptop on his thighs. He boops Cassie, then Liv. Then goes and super boops Ian, followed by an evil boop. He wishes there was something higher than an evil boop, but alas. He decides to send another.

eternitysgate: stop evil booping me you bastard fcku-up: never shoulda told me to opt in, bitch eternitysgate: god i’m gonna miss this fcku-up: they might keep it eternitysgate: in case they don’t, i just want to say – it’s been a pleasure booping with you 🫡

Mickey smiles. Rolls his eyes. Can’t help but find Ian, as always, painfully endearing.

fcku-up: you too, nerd

#IDK WHAT HAPPENED I BLACKED OUT #i miss them so much #and i miSS YOU DRISH I LOVE YOU SO MUCH and i love seeing you back on my dash #i hope y'all enjoy this one #maybe this is the motivation i need to get my ass back in gear and give y'all the final chapter + epilogue you deserve #we shall see #ANYWAY #ILY #BOOP #yqhbr

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luvzxr · 8 months

Text

Innocence

nsfw (18+) mdni please. I think I'd actually cry.

Not 100% sure where this fic is gonna be taken as I'm the type of go with the flow writer. This may contain heavy subjects such as; depression, alcohol and alcohol abuse, slight age gap? (by a few years in my head. Not much.) possible smut. Possible mentions of gore but I probably won't go heavy on that. If I do I'll put a bigger warning in the future on the chapters that are heavy with them!

Hello! I figured I'd start on a series because I personally love longer series and the anticipation of waiting for wonderful writers to bring out new parts just hits different. I will personally be using an OC that goes by the name Sophie Hayes but going along with this fic it will be Sophie Redfield :). You are more than welcome to use your own name or a personal oc name however! I prefer to use names rather y/n or you/your! I've loved the name Sophie after reading a fanfic years ago on Wattpad and I fell in love instantly with the name so we'll be using my Sophie girl as the main character but like I said, you are more than welcome to use your own name or a personal oc name to fill that in for yourself!

ahem. Anywayss.

Description: The youngest and most innocent member of the redfield siblings finds herself falling for a the broken and not so innocent blonde agent whose been a well known long term friend with her two older siblings.

Word count: 2,294

Bang, bang, bang.

The entirety of my body jolting at every kickback that was shot from the firearms my current older brother, Chris, was using for his daily target practice. I couldn't help the wincing and jolts; I shouldn't be here.

I couldn't express to you how many times I tried to tug on the man's sleeve, shirt or even gentle taps to his shoulder to ask him when we were leaving but I barely got a direct answer from the him at all.

"Chris," I tugged on the shoulder strap of his bullet proof vest. I was beginning to feel more agitated by every passing second we stayed inside the echoing room that smelled nothing of gun powder. "My ears are starting to hurt from the noise. When can we go?"

"Throw these on Soph. They should help with the noise," he placed a pair of noise reduction headphones over my ears and the gave a few pats to my head before his attention was directed back to his previous target practice shenanigans.

But even with headphones my ears felt like they were throbbing against the muffled fabric, the thudding of my own heartbeat was getting overwhelming and even a teensy bit aggravating.

Stepping back to my previous seating with a sigh, knowing we'd probably be here for another hour or two, hell even three before he decides to even take it upon himself to rest and I felt like I was only losing a consistent battle with him.

The thing about Chris is he was the most stubborn sibling out of Him, Claire and I. He didn't budge half the time and even went on to say 'it wouldn't hurt for me to teach you a few things yknow.' And he wasn't entirely wrong but I hated everything that had to do with weaponry and violence, it made me feel queasy and left an unsettling feeling at the pit of my stomach just having my frail hands wrapped around the grip of a singular handgun.

The thing about me, however is if I push his buttons hard enough— guilt him. He might actually budge just a little bit and it grew to be a personal trick up the sleeve that both Claire and I used against him when we wanted something and he wasn't caving. Often times it worked more with me than with her so she always had me do the dirty work in that aspect.

However, I chose not to this time around. I chose to leave the heap of stubborn known as my brother alone because I knew in his eyes this was some sort of stress relief. It was serotonin regardless of how violent and unnerving I found it myself because to him this was what heaven looked like, served to him on a silver platter.

Here, he didn't have to worry about his life being on the line or other lives grasped in the palm of his hands. He didn't have to look the poor individuals in the eye as the light faded from them and leave yet another feeling of emptiness in his heart.

I winced at the mere thought itself.

I didn't have it in me to take that away from him. Not now.

Instead I sat like the good little sister I was and chose to endure the consistent bang after bang, each shot hitting somewhere between the head and shoulders of the practice dummies out in the range.

Running a hand through my hair, I sit with my arms folded over my chest, bouncing my left leg in anticipation and eagerness just to get out of this situation. I needed something to do besides stare off into the abyss because I couldn't even manage that, the sound of the reload and kick back of the trigger was the only thing my mind could focus on.

I allowed my cheeks to puff out. I should of stayed at home. I could be curled up in my comfy two set of pink Bugs Bunny sleep attire with some stupid film set on the television right now with some stupid microwaveable meal set perfectly on my lap. Hell, even popcorn would do. Anything was better than this. Doesn't sound like an appealing activity to spend your Friday Night, but anything was better than where I currently was.

You'd think that any 29 year old man would be at a bar checking out some girls that wore too little of clothing or just enough to hide what any man would be drowning in their own set of lust just thinking about it. That's an average thought for a man, right? That was fun to them especially if they were single. Instead, Chris was found here almost every day at the butt crack of dawn with no other excuse other than 'I need to practice my aim.' Though even I could read right through that lie.

I guess I shouldn't be judging the guy, it might come back to bite me in the ass because every morning for myself was the same thing just like him.

Wake up, quickly brush through my set of pearly whites and then rush down to the living room TV where my two other siblings would find me sitting until noon on most days watching the old cartoon channel where Bugs and the little annoying RoadRunner bird were to be found.

I realize I am 25 years old and that was probably a child like way to spend my mornings but I didn't necessarily care. It has been my morning routine since I was a little kid and it wasn't about to change just because people looked to me as if I was too old to be doing that.

I snapped out of my momentary thoughts of the night I could be having if I didn't allow Chris to drag me from my spot on the couch. The singular door to the range slide open, snapping my head to catch a glimpse of the figure emerging, he was hard not to notice.

"Chris,"

My brother took notice immediately, slipping his own set of headphone off to rest around his neck. His pistol being set to safety before resting it on the small counter in front of him, "Leon."

Leon had been a old friend of both Claire and Chris over the years, Claire being the first to of met the blonde years back in Raccoon City when all hell broke lose. He picked her up at a gas station that was swarmed with nothing but the undead, helped her through the mess even while separated and then the rest was history. In more ways than one I was thankful for him.

We weren't close like he was with my siblings. I knew little to nothing about his personal life and I suppose that was reciprocated when it came to him— he knew nothing about me other than I was the youngest out of the Redfield siblings.

I'd see him around the house every once in a while and usually the only interactions we ever made were small head nods or a wave of some kind but it was never a conversation. Maybe, if I was lucky— I'd get a 'Hey Soph.' But that even was a bit rare to hear from him. We kept to our own and I suppose that had something to do with the age difference and how I didn't work under D.S.O or even in the line of work that Claire took on. I worked at a little Café on the corner not far from where Claire, Chris and I all lived. A nine to five average job.

I was hardly ever in the loop with the three of them unless Absolutely necessary. Sometimes it irritated me and other times I was thankful for it.

"I'm gonna be heading out for the night but," I watched as the duffle bag that was hanging from his left shoulder was slightly moved to the front of him, rummaging through and pulled out what seemed to be a case file, "Director Winston wanted you to take a look at this. Our next case I suppose."

Chris had taken the flimsy case file into his grasp, giving Leon an appreciative head nod, "Sure. I'll take a look when I head home."

Yeah right. Like we would be leaving anytime soon.

I wrapped my arms over the top of the chair, my upper torso turned to face in their direction and I rested my chin down on my forearm all while my eyes fluttered shut. Sleep had really started to take a toll on my mind and body as of recently and as of now, I suppose it was showing quite a bit now.

I was still currently in College and as much as I loved my current job because of the customers and the environment in general was always something I looked forward to, It wasn't something I planned to do for the rest of my life. I somewhat had a plan for my future-- Something both Claire and Chris pounded into my head until it eventually stuck. They'd constantly lecture me on how I just needed to find something I loved to do, something I'd enjoy and wouldn't look at it like a job but rather a hobby but It wasn't like I needed much convincing from either of them.

I watched both of my siblings fight off all the bioterrorists and B.O.W.'s for years. I watched each of them fall apart and be forced to pick those pieces up on their own, one by one. I was a first hand witness to see how the innocence and light they once held in their eyes had faded away until it was nothing more than an old shell of who they use to be, drowning in the darkest parts of them would then you find maybe a small glimpse of their happy nature they once held.

In some sort of way, I understood their need for me to go to college, to have at least one of us find normalcy because deep down I suppose they knew I'd fall into that same work unless they drilled into my head where I needed to be.

It wasn't so bad, the only complaint I ever had was the bags under my eyes that I could only imagine were big enough to carry groceries if I wanted them to. And not the flimsy, small bags of dairy or maybe those small boxes of chex mix you'd snag from the shelves. No, I'm talking about the gallon of milk they'd have to double bag. The twenty four pack of soda you'd struggle to haul in through the front door. Hell, even the cases of water. I could carry all of it under the honey pools of my face.

I must of found my way into a short slumber because the last thing I remembered was faintly hearing both Leon and Chris murmuring amongst themselves over that file. Now, here I was with a few taps to my shoulder and both men looking down at me with what seemed to be amusement in both of their eyes.

"Cmon Sophie. Leon offered to take you home."

Oh thank god.

It was like heaven hitting my ears in nothing but pure bliss with the mere though of my aching back hitting the plush of that mattress waiting for me at home. I was practically jumping for joy on the inside, bouncing off every wall inside my head.

I rubbed the tired from my eyes with my palms, groggily speaking, "oh okay," a soft yawn escaping through all while I pushed and forced myself up from rather uncomfortable hunk of mental I had been sitting in for the past six hours now.

Hearing a chuckle from both men at me turning my gaze towards them but I couldn't find it in me to give a gentle glare or even a playful scowl because I was far too tired to do such a thing.

Both Leon and I begun heading out towards the door, my legs having a mind of their own to drag me around for the short period they needed to. I heard Chris call out to us which earned him a rather irritable groan from me that I though was only amongst myself but ended up being a little louder than intended.

"Make sure she gets through the door," he was in the process of placing those god awful set of headphones back over his ears.

"Will do," I heard Leon call back, giving a lazy thumbs up. He was trying to leave as soon as possible and I knew that. Chris however, was not and I could tell he was treating it like I was being babysat inside of just a drop off to the house.

"Key is in the small flower pot to the left of the door,"

"Got it,”

"Oh! also Soph, don't stay up too late. You got classes tomorrow. I better not see you up late or I-"

I finally had enough, finishing his sentence for him, "Kick my ass. Yes, I know. Can we go now?" I huffed, motioning towards the door with almost a whiney tone to my voice but I couldn't care less right now.

He let out a husky laugh, although I didn't find it very funny he was taking up more of my time I could be using to get a decent eight hours of sleep. But with a wave of his hand I was practically pushing Leon with my palms to get moving before he started talking all over again like he was a babysitter of some sort and giving Leon a run down on how to handle me as if I needed yet another person worrying about me in my corner.

#leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s. kennedy #resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy #Leon Scott kennedy x oc #x oc #leon x oc #leon kennedy x oc #resident evil x oc #leon s. kennedy x oc

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bumblesimagines · 1 year

Text

Under The Moonlight

Part 6

Request: Yes or No

~~~

"Where were you?"

"Exploring." (Y/N) answered, picking up the barrel and handing it off to his brother. Leif stared at him with an arched brow, taking the barrel into his arms and setting it down on their ship. Liv stood near them, gazing down into the water absentmindedly. She had made a quick recovery, only needing a couple of bandages and some rest before she could pick up a sword again. Her skin had regained its tan complexion and her eyes regained their light. Seeing her up and walking had been a tremendous relief to the brothers. With everything they needed onboard, (Y/N) carefully stepped down onto the ship, feeling it rock slightly at his added weight.

London's harbor had filled to the brim with boats as half of King Canute's fleet readied for departure back to their homelands across Scandinavia. But the Greenlanders would need to stop by Kattegat for Freydis and the others. Then, it'd hopefully be smooth sailing back home to their families.

"Exploring? The castle? All night?" With each word, Leif's brows rose higher and higher. (Y/N) looked away from his brother and out toward the horizon with pursed lips. He felt like a child again. It'd been ages since Leif last scolded him. "It isn't like you to lie to me."

"What do you want me to say, Leif?"

"The truth. If you were with..." Leif trailed off, eyes flickering over to Harald and back to his brother. The prince stood in front of King Canute as they exchanged words. Once, Harald would've appeared carefree and pleased to be in the king's presence. But now he looked miffed and bitter, the taste of betrayal still on his tongue. Harald wore his typical black leather and dark tunic attire with two-skinned coyotes stitched to his long black cloak and tied together by a small bronze chain that kept the cloak from slipping off his shoulders. He no longer looked like any other Viking waltzing up and down the dock. He looked like a prince. He was a prince. (Y/N) needed to remember that. Even when the bear tooth hung snugly around Harald's neck.

"Just tell me."

"It's not like that." (Y/N) murmured, tearing his eyes away from Harald and distracting himself by adjusting one of the ropes keeping the sail tied to the mast.

"Are you certain?" And people said his brother was a man of little words.

"Safe journey, Greenlanders!" King Canute suddenly called out to them, drawing their attention away from each other and onto him. The two brothers forced awkward smiles for him, offering nods of acknowledgment before looking at each other again. Harald's brows furrowed slightly at the sight, gaze lingering on them.

"What are you two whispering about?" Liv asked, using the side of the boat to push herself up. Leif- almost instinctively- wrapped an arm around her waist to ensure her balance, causing a flustered smile to appear on Liv's face.

"Don't tell me you-"

"Nothing, Liv. Just the weather." Leif answered, hand rising to delicately stroke the back of her head and giving his brother a squinted-eyed look. (Y/N) grinned back at him. Liv slowly nodded at his answer and sat back down as Harald stepped onboard and bid his goodbye to Canute. Leif took his spot behind the steering oar and (Y/N) sat beside him, watching Vikings finish getting their belongings packed away. Harald made his way down the ship, fingers twitching and brushing against (Y/N)'s arm when he brushed past and he sat behind him. (Y/N) took in a deep breath and looked out at the ocean again.

➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸

The closer Kattegat's harbor grew, the faster his heart pounded against his chest. His fingers drummed anxiously against the side of the ship, watching people swarm to the docks to greet their family and friends. He waited impatiently as the boat docked, staring down the dock until the boat had been secured. Climbing out, he paused and waited, hearing Liv's soft sigh of exhaustion as Leif helped her off the boat. Then, He heard it. He heard her.

"Leif! (Y/N)!" Freydis raced through the crowd, her long blonde braid whipping back with the wind as she brushed past people. Her pace quickened upon spotting her brothers and she barreled into the arms of (Y/N), feet leaving the ground when he wrapped his arms around her tightly and spun her around. Laughter escaped her freely. "You're alive!"

"And you are too." (Y/N) laughed as well, feeling his heart swell tenfolds. Gently setting Freydis back down on her feet, she smiled and kissed his cheek before eagerly wrapping her arms around Leif and Liv, thrilled giggles falling from her lips.

"What is this?" Liv asked when they pulled apart, looking over Freydis' attire. It was then he noticed what exactly she wore. Freydis had ditched her typical dark tunics and coats for brown leather, a light blue tunic underneath, and shoulder plates. Her black boots were covered in a mixture of damp sand and when he looked closer, so were the back of her pants, almost as if she had fallen while on the beach. (Y/N) blinked. Her clothes looked strikingly similar to what the defenders of Kattegat wore, he realized. Had Jarl Haakon offered Freydis a place amongst her shieldmaidens?

"I have much to tell you." Freydis breathed and leaned back, turning her head side to side in search of the others. When she couldn't find them along the Vikings unloading and heading down the dock, she looked back at them, her wide smile beginning to crumble. "Skarde? Njal?"

"And Ulf," Liv whispered, inhaling sharply and turning her gaze downcast.

"Then..." Freydis pressed her trembling lips together, her blue eyes overflowing with tears. "Toke and Yrsa are not alone in Valhalla." She revealed softly, voice nearly cracking.

(Y/N) felt as if someone had punched him right in the chest, knocking all the air out of his lungs and squeezing his heart. His friends... The ones who had stepped up and promised to help them on their journey for justice... dead. Every single one of them. Liv stared at her wide-eyed, eyes flickering between Freydis's in hopes of finding a cruel joke. Her lip began quivering and she shook her head, sobs escaping her and shoulders shaking. (Y/N) squeezed his eyes shut. He'd grown so tired of crying, so tired of mourning that the tears had dried after the deaths of Njal and Skarde. He only stepped forward and wrapped an arm around his sister, dropping his head onto her shoulder as Leif and Liv stepped in as well, arms wrapping around each other and Freydis. The group of Greenlanders had watered down to just four. Four survivors. Four people who'd have to relay the news to different families back home. They'd have to hold sobbing mothers and spouses and explain to the children why their fathers wouldn't be returning.

"It's just us now." Liv sniffled, leaning back and gazing up at Freydis, hand gently rubbing her back.

"Come," Freydis sighed, wiping her tears away and slipping her arm around Liv's shoulders. She looked up at her brothers and smiled sadly at them, nodding back toward the town. "You must be tired from your journey."

"I want to go home, Leif." (Y/N) mumbled, watching the girls head down the dock.

"I know, (Y/N). I know." Leif tried offering him a reassuring smile through his exhaustion. "But we must rest." He reminded, motioning after the girls and beginning to follow them. (Y/N) sighed and trailed after his brother, eyes drifting away from Leif's back and meeting Harald's pitying ones. (Y/N) broke eye contact first and quickened his pace, even as Harald stared holes into the back of his head.

Freydis took them to the market, the smell of freshly baked bread and cooking meat wafting through the air. (Y/N)'s mouth watered at the thought of a warm meal, collapsing at an empty table and smiling sweetly at his sister when she swiftly retrieved bowls of food for them to eat. Setting them down in front of her friends and getting some water for them, Freydis plopped down across from them and began recounting how she had spent the last couple of months. "Jarl Haakon sent us to Uppsala."

"To Uppsala?" Liv gasped in awe, breaking apart a fresh piece of bread and popping the smaller slice into her mouth. "Is it like the stories we heard growing up?"

Smiling widely, Freydis rested her arms on the table, her gaze turning distant. "It's even better... Temples as high as the sky with golden rooftops, and hundreds of the faithful." Her smile fell slightly. "But it is threatened by Christians."

"So this is your new mission?" Leif asked softly, rolling his wooden spoon between his fingers. (Y/N) drank the broth of his soup, having finished eating so fast his mother would've wacked him with a rag and scolded him. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, his brows furrowed as Freydis nodded, her fingers toying with the ends of her shirt.

"What I have seen has changed me. I cannot leave Kattegat now, and I hope you will stay too?" Freydis glanced between the three of them hopefully. (Y/N) felt his stomach drop, fingers squeezing around the bowl in his hands. Leif swallowed and turned to look at his younger brother, placing his hand on his shoulder and affectionately rubbing it.

"Perhaps we could stay a little longer. Make sure Freydis settles in well and then we can depart for Greenland?" Leif proposed, gaze softening. Between his siblings pleading looks, (Y/N) could only begrudgingly nod, putting aside his longing for home. "Besides..." Leif's eyes flickered to someone past him. "I don't think Harald would let you leave so quickly."

"Harald?" Freydis repeated with furrowed brows and (Y/N) peered over his shoulder at the prince. Harald had ditched his cloak and changed into lighter clothes better suited to Kattegat's chilly yet ever-changing weather. Inhaling deeply, (Y/N) let the bowl drop lightly on the table and stood up, hearing his sister whisper questions to a chuckling Leif.

"I see your sister is a warrior now," Harald noted, a smile spreading on his face. "I will congratulate her later. For now, I wish to know why you've been ignoring me."

"Yrsa and Toke were killed, Harald. By a Christian Jarl named Kåre. Friend of yours?"

"No, he's not." Harald's smile turned into a frown. "He's a zealot and many of us consider him deranged."

"But you know him."

"I know of him. (Y/N), please, I do not wish to argue with you today." Harald sighed and shut his eyes, nose crinkling slightly. "Why don't we take a walk-"

"Harald, I want you to forget about what happened. I do not want you trailing after me like a child at every turn. You're the Prince of Norway, I am a hunter from Greenland. I am... far below your station. Find someone else to bother and keep your bed warm, but I do not need to risk my safety for a man, much less a Christian." (Y/N)'s words came out much nastier than intended. It became apparent by the way Harald nearly flinched at his words, a hurt look passing over his features. (Y/N) turned his back to him and returned to the table, avoiding the questioning gazes as he took some bread. Harald stared at him, and then he scoffed and turned away, stalking back into the depths of the town.

When night fell, Jarl Haakon opened the Great Hall doors to the fleet of Vikings for a feast congratulating them on their victory and safe return. (Y/N) had found himself sitting beside a pretty redhead, although he couldn't recall if her name was Ingrid or Isgerd. She wore a long flowy green dress with white designs stitched on the cuffs and collarbone. Her wavy hair had been tied back by multiple braids with a couple of strands falling over her face that she occasionally brushed away when speaking. Talking with her was easy, for the most part. His attention would automatically drift away from her when he would feel someone staring at him, even if he knew it was Harald watching him from across the room. Liv and Leif sat together at the table beside (Y/N)'s, warily glancing at each other and whispering about the two. Leif had kept the day's attire on but Liv had changed into a long red dress and finally released her hair from its typical updo. Sitting a ways away from her brothers, Freydis chatted animatedly with a handsome young man, appearing rather interested in him as she laughed and leaned toward him curiously.

Drums began to be hit and (Y/N) turned his eyes away from Harald and onto the woman walking down between the tables, the small chimes on her red outfit clinging together with each step she took. Lifting her hands, she hollered. "Hail Prince Harald and Leif Eriksson, the heroes of London! West over water they fared to tear the English crown from the head of Æthelred!" Cheers filled the hall as Vikings lifted their cups in the air. "Or was it the head from the crown? By the man who brought London Bridge down! And this Prince of Greenland, across oceans he went, to face hundreds of men in the village of Kent!"

"Hundreds? More like thousands!" Leif called confidentially from his seat, laughing as the hall erupted in laughter and cheers.

Harald lifted his up high in the air, his bitterness and hurt gone for the moment. "Get your story right, Skalde!" He piped in playfully, a laugh rumbling in his chest.

"I think you better get up and tell it then," Skalde responded with a large smile, encouraging the hall to chant for Harald to rise. Even Leif chimed in, chanting Harald's name and slamming his fists against the table. (Y/N) felt a smile tug at his lips, fingers gently dragging along his cup as Harald gave in and stood up, stepping onto his seat and then onto the table.

"The story I want to tell is not of me." He shouted over the chants, waiting for the hall to quiet down before continuing. "It is of a group of friends: The Greenlanders. Leif Eriksson, my friend. My brother. Captain through the storms of wind and mutiny. He settled rough waters and made the passage calm."

"Brother." Leif raised his cup to Harald in thanks.

"And Liv-" Harald continued, grinning when Liv's head snapped in his direction with wide eyes. "-who left her blood in the river along with the bridge! This is her story." Harald stepped down from the table, gazing over the hall. Liv bowed her head bashfully at the cheers that followed, a flustered smile spreading across her face.

"And (Y/N) Eriksson. A man who would carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if it meant helping his brother and sister. I admire his strength and kindness... and I certainly wish to never face him on the battlefield." Harald kept his voice even, listening to laughter and cheers that spread at his words. (Y/N) rubbed his thumb over the rim of his cup and met Harald's fond gaze. He didn't wish to admit the way his heart seemingly picked up when he looked into his eyes. Harald's lips spread into a small smile.

"This is his story too. As it is Ulf's, Skarde's, and Njal's. Greenlanders who came to pay a debt for one, but stayed to help save us all. They met Syn in Odin's Great Hall, and she welcomed them into Valhalla. They are the true heroes of London. They are who we celebrate tonight! For without the Greenlanders, London Bridge would still be standing, but we would not." Harald lifted his cup once more. "The Greenlanders!"

Rising from his seat and picking up his cup, Leif raised his cup as well. "Skol!" At his words, the drums picked up and people stood to mingle and chat, sharing laughter and exchanging tales. (Y/N) excused himself from the redhead's side and made his way through the hall, feeling Harald's eyes on him as he approached the fireplace. Predictably, Harald appeared at his side in seconds.

"Thank you for what you said, Harald. You didn't have to." (Y/N) muttered and looked at the prince. Harald hummed, lifting his hands and warming them with the heat of the fire. The fire cast a golden glow on him, making his dark eyes appear a shade or two lighter.

"Your friends deserved to have their names known. They were heroes too." Harald said, lifting his gaze to look at him, his brows gently raising and gaze softening. "And I am deeply sorry for everything and everyone you've lost."

(Y/N) regarded the prince with a sorrowful smile. While his heart remained heavy, he knew his friends were where they were meant to be. The Gods had willed it and (Y/N) could only be thankful for the time they had spent together, even if a few of those times had been filled with arguments and petty insults. But they had remained loyal to him and his siblings through thick and thin. Sighing softly, (Y/N) tilted his head and parted his lips to speak, only for the sound of steel hitting a shield to break his thought process and draw his attention toward the center of the hall. Stepping away from Harald, he spotted one of Jarl Haakon's shieldmaidens standing protectively in front of Leif with her sword pointed directly at Arne.

"He's no hero!" Arne seethed with bottled-up fury and hate, staring directly at Leif. "He's a Christian lover and probably a Christian himself!" Arne spat, moving wildly against the two men restraining him. Leif made no move to defend himself. Instead, he stood behind the shieldmaiden silently... Guilty. (Y/N) frowned.

"Leave before I banish you." The shieldmaiden ordered, keeping her sword trained on the blonde man, even as the other men escorted him out of the hall. (Y/N) watched them shove Arne out of the hall, their bodies blocking him from entering. After cursing them a few more times, Arne disappeared into the night.

"Come to my lodgings, (Y/N). I'll have a hot bath prepared for you." Harald whispered into his ear, the touch of his hand fleeting against (Y/N) back before he disappeared into the crowd. (Y/N) stared after him, the buzz of the feast picking back up despite the brief interruption. The music grew louder, more encouraging for people to dance and mingle. But the festivities had been enough for the Greenlander. And with some hesitance, he found himself following in Harald's direction.

Even after his unnecessarily cold words, Harald had invited him back to his room. And (Y/N) foolishly accepted. (Y/N) winced at his own inconsistency. It wasn't like him to be so... impulsive. So reckless. Harald would surely think of him as easy. (Y/N) slowed down in front of the inn, staring at the open door. The cold outside nipped at his cheeks and ears but he barely felt it. Nothing could beat Greenland's winter. Grinding his teeth and cursing himself, he stepped inside and questioned the innkeeper who provided little directions to Harald's room.

Why was he doing this?

Why was he standing there before his door?

Why did he knock instead of leaving?

Questions that repeated over and over in his head as the heavy footsteps grew near and the door opened, warmth flooding out from the room and coaxing him inside. (Y/N) didn't look at Harald when he walked in, instead, he eyed at the tub toward the back of the room with steam rising out of it. The door creaked when it closed behind him, sending a small jolt up his body at the sound. (Y/N) knew he could easily change his mind and Harald would let him leave. But he stayed.

"You have your own tub?" (Y/N) asked, feeling his skin burn. From shame? Embarrassment? Want? He couldn't tell. Those feelings had slowly grown muddled. Growing closer to the wooden tub, his fingers danced along the rim of the tub, the warm water rather enticing after a short trek through the chilly night.

"Jarl Haakon treats her friends well," Harald said, his voice suddenly closer. His arms moved around his waist, hand pulling and tugging on strings. When his clothes grew loose, (Y/N) gently pushed Harald's hands away and slipped the rest of the clothes off, stepping into the tub and lowering down into the water. He shivered and pulled his legs toward his chest, a soft chuckle escaping him as the heat hugged his tired muscles. Harald picked up his clothes, setting them on a chair, and gingerly taking the dagger to place it on top of the clothes.

(Y/N) pulled his hand toward his chest, palm pressing against his scar. It ran from his left shoulder down to his right hip. His attacker hadn't dragged the tip of his sword down his body to cut him open, only to torture him with the pain. The scar had faded considerably over the years but the memories remained clear and vivid. His head lifted when he heard a chair scraping along the ground. Harald set the stool down and sat on it, leaning his arms on the rim of the tub with a rag in hand.

"Tell me about Greenland," Harald said softly, dipping the rag into the water and gently rubbing it against (Y/N)'s cheek. "What's it like living there?"

"It's cold and dry. We get a lot of snow.. so much sometimes you can barely tell it's summer or spring. But I like the snow. I like the cold. But snow and cold mean the animals that live among us are sparse and hard to capture. It's... challenging." (Y/N) sighed, skimming his hand over the surface of the water. "To survive, you have to be less of a man, less of a human. You have to become a predator. Even if it's just to catch a cunning little hare or take down an ox. And to make things harder, your neighbors aren't your only competition. You've got polar bears roamin' about and once they catch a whiff of you... They'll follow you for hours on end and because they blend in, you'll never see them coming. It's... terrifying, how such a large creature can sneak up on you. But, Gods, they're beautiful."

"Beautiful yet terrifying... Reminds me of someone." Harald cooed, dragging the rag down along (Y/N)'s jawline. Droplets ran down his neck, mixing with sweat and grime from the weeks at sea. Hooking his finger under (Y/N)'s chin, he tilted the Greenlander's head toward him and gently scrubbed the other side of his face. (Y/N)'s lips curled up.

"Is this always how you get your peen wet?" A laugh slipped past his lips when Harald's brows raised at his crudeness, his movements temporarily pausing. "You offer hot baths to anyone you find pretty?"

"They typically like me for my charm-"

"Charm?"

"Yes, my charm." Harald drawled and dropped his hand, the water rippling from the contact. "If it wasn't for my charm, why did you lay with me?"

"You were available. And desperate." (Y/N) shrugged lightly and slipped the rag from Harald's fingers, squeezing the water out of it and rubbing it against his shoulders.

"You make me feel like that," Harald sighed, fingers brushing against the top of (Y/N)'s knee. "You make me feel many things."

Shifting in the water, (Y/N) moved toward the prince and propped his arms on either side of Harald's. His heart danced around in his chest, threatening to burst out at any given moment but he shoved down the jittery feeling in his veins instead, he bumped his nose against Harald's and gazed into his darkening eyes. (Y/N) leaned back and found Harald leaning after him, chasing his lips in hopes of stealing a kiss. "Careful, prince. You may fall in."

"You are no bear.." Harald breathed, a smirk appearing on his face. "You are a fox."

➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸

The shieldmaidens entered the makeshift arena in a single line for Freydis's test. She was last among them, having exchanged the blue tunic for their signature yellow. Leif, Liv, (Y/N), and Harald watched from the sidelines as the shieldmaidens turned to face Jarl Haakon and dropped to one knee, simultaneously speaking in Norse. Rising up again, the women spread out and Freydis handed her sword over. She needed to prove her strength against the group. She had to mark her place among them by defeating them in combat. Silence fell over them as Freydis stepped back into the center, scanning each face and bracing herself for the first attack.

The first woman charged, taking advantage of Freydis's back being turned to her. Expecting the attack, Freydis turned just in time to dodge the swing. The woman stumbled and Freydis took advantage of her momentary daze to kick her forward onto the ground before landing a solid punch to her jaw, thus marking the woman out of the fight. Jarl Haakon smiled proudly at her first win.

Two shieldmaidens charged neck, one swinging her sword and the other shoving forward her spear. Freydis dodged the swing of the sword and angled her body to avoid the spear. Thinking fast on her feet, she grabbed the spear and aimed the end of it toward the woman with the sword before slamming her body against the second woman and loosening her grip on the spear. Taking the spear from her, Freydis swung at both women, using quickness and good aim to knock both women down without seriously injuring them.

Twirling the spear in her hand, she aimed at the next woman who charged and flung it forward but the woman raised her shield in time to block it. Scrambling to pick up the discarded sword and shield on the ground, Freydis faced her again, only for another woman to come up at her side and use her own shield to force Freydis onto the ground. She blocked the woman's hits while on her back before swinging her leg at the back of her ankles, effectively causing her opponent to fall onto her knees. She rolled out of the way to avoid Freydis's sword and the two women used the distance to get back on their feet. They charged at each other, grunting and huffing as metal hit metal until Freydis got her sword to the woman's neck, forcing her to surrender.

But she didn't have time to breathe before being charged at again. Her new opponent, the woman that had saved Leif from Arne's attack the previous night, didn't spare her, swinging her sword and blocking with her shield. They broke apart for a moment, their chests heaving with pants and then they charged again, swinging and blocking until the woman brought her shield to Freydis's knee, causing her to cry out and lean over instinctively. Using the distraction, the woman swung her shield at Freydis's and pushed her down on the ground. She allowed Freydis the time to get back on her feet but didn't hold back, swinging at her again and again. Freydis got a solid hit against the woman's side but she didn't even bat an eye, slamming her shield against Freydis's and causing it to bounce back and hit her face. Freydis cried out as she fell back, rolling over onto her stomach and cupping her face in pain.

"Get up!" Jarl Haakon shouted, encouraging chants erupting in the crowd. Freydis staggered to her feet and tossed her shield and sword aside. When she turned around, (Y/N) grimaced at the sight. Blood oozed from her temple, dripping down the side of her face, and her bloodied lips parted to suck in gulps of air. Freydis went as far enough to unclasp the armor and toss it aside. She continued to stumble around and her opponent frowned, turning to look at Jarl Haakon with an arched brow. When Jarl Haakon remained silent, the woman sighed deeply and looked back at Freydis. Fingers brushed against (Y/N) and he felt someone hook their finger around his. Glancing down, he noticed Harald's hand and looked up at him. Harald gave him a reassuring smile.

With the fight still on, the woman charged and swung but Freydis ducked. Dodging another swing, she lifted her foot and slammed it against the shield, pushing her back. The woman charged again and Freydis allowed the sword to brush against her arm in order to get closer to her and push the shield aside, shoving the woman back again. Despite stumbling on her feet, she dodged another swing and spun around, grasping the woman's arm and stomping on her leg, forcing her down on one knee and holding her wrist. The woman dropped her sword only to catch it with her free hand. Freydis quickly backed away, ducking from two swings before charging forward and slamming her body against the woman's and taking the sword from her weakened grasp. Cutting her side and watching her fall back on her knees, Freydis held the blade to her throat before she could get up.

Once Jarl Haakon nodded her approval, Freydis lowered her sword and offered the woman her hand, helping her up on her feet. The two grinned at each other as the crowd cheered and shieldmaidens approached Freydis to congratulate her. Freydis panted, soaking in the cheers and her victory before lowering down to one knee when Jarl Haakon walked toward her with a proud smile.

"Freydis Eriksdottir. What promise do you make?"

"I promise on Odin to protect Kattegat to the death." Freydis breathed.

The woman beside Jarl Haakon took Freydis's sword out of its sheath and held it before her as Jarl Haakon took a handful of dirt and then wiped her other hand on Freydis's blood. Smearing the blood and sprinkling the dirt on the sword, she spoke. "The body and Earth are one." Taking the sword into her hands, she held it and stared down at her. "As you protect me, so I you. Rise." She said and Freydis took, taking her sword back and taking the shield offered to her.

Turning to look at the crowd, Freydis grinned. "Yeah!" She screamed into the day, causing the crowd to erupt into cheers and hollers. Liv excitedly jumped up and down, cheering for Freydis and laughing. (Y/N) watched the pure euphoria on Freydis's face as she continued to scream and thrust her sword upward. She belonged in Kattegat as a warrior, he knew that now. And when Harald wrapped his fingers around his wrist, he wondered if he belonged somewhere, at someone's side.

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #vikings valhalla x you #vikings valhalla x male reader #vikings valhalla #vikings #vikings valhalla x reader #vikings valhalla x y/n #harald sigurdsson x reader #harald sigurdsson #harald sigurdsson x y/n #harald sigurdsson x you #harald sigurdsson x male reader #leif Eriksson #freydis eriksdotter

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thelovetheystole · 3 months

Text

I was just talking to someone about the Robert mentions and how they were like a little mini re-cap of Robert/Robron for the viewers.

Robert Mentions Analysis incoming. Another long one, I'm afraid.

The first mention by Rhona reminded us what Robert did and where he is now (without actually saying the words). That mention fit the Lydia story well, and could easily have been a one off.

The second mention made a reference to waiting for the one, which can be interpreted several ways, especially since waiting for each other was a huge part of their story arcs. But it also reminded viewers that actually, Robert was 'it' for Aaron, not the other two that came after.

They also took the chance to tell us, after all these years, that Robert is 'doing ok', telling us that Vic is in fact still in contact. This mention wasn't really called for or needed, story wise.

Mention number three took the recapping one step further, reminding us that Robron were raising Seb together. His name and very existence had pretty much been wiped away until that little rant from Charity.

Aaron didn't really need reminding how loss feels in terms of Mackenzie losing Reuben. After all, Aaron buried Liv quite recently, and he raised her for a lot longer than he did Seb. I get in this instance, Charity's goal was to emphasize Mack's pain and loss so Aaron wouldn't drag him down, but still... If they wanted, they could have made this work without bringing Robert and Seb into it. (I'm actually surprised they aren't talking more about Liv these days, if I'm honest.)

They have also spaced out the Robert mentions over time; October, December, January.

When he was mentioned in 2021 with the Luke stuff it was all pretty much in focus for a few weeks and then the producers came out and said he wasn't coming back so that was that. The mentions faded out and away.

Other times his name has come up as a one off, or simply not all all, even when appropriate for the story.

I don't think we're exagerrating in thinking this is building up to sonething.

#robron #robert sugden

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sweet-villain · 2 years

Text

Need You~2~ Joseph Quinn

Part 1

figmentofquinn ~ josephquinnlover0 ~ali-r3n~ witchsbitchestime

Summary : Joseph wants to make amends, and fix your relationship but you are having a hard time accepting it.

After the events of the party, you had grabbed a bag of clothes and Dacre has offered to let you stay in his place he lived with Liv, you went to protest but he wouldn't have any of it. You were one of his best friends and he wanted to make sure you were safe. You wanted to stay at the hotel but none of your friends would let you.

" I don't get why she has to stay at Liv's and Dacre's place" Natalia says as she huffs crossing her arms across her chest. She was hoping you stay with her and Charlie but you aren't that close with her.

" Sweetie, she knows Dacre and Liv the best out of all of us. We can still come see her?" Charlie asks Dacre.

Dacre nods, " of course. You're her friends and who am I to keep you all from her?"

" she is trying to keep it together but we all know she wants to break down"

" She's a strong girl" Keery says as he watches you pack with Liv's help. Joseph on the other hand is leaning his hands on the sink with his head hung looking at the ground that has droplets of water on the floor.

" You have to fix this" Jamie tells Joseph watching him. Jess had helped get rid of the people from the party, clearing them out as soon as you ran upstairs. She has a look of disapproval on her face looking at Joseph.

Joseph reaches his hand out to turn on the water and puts his hand underneath the water making a small bowl with his hands as he splashes the water on his face and runs a hand down his face. He turns off the water and turns around to face Jamie and Jess.

" I know that I screw up, I'm a jerk-" Jess cuts him off.

" A huge jerk"Joseph nods but then hears everyone coming down the steps and he runs to the hallway out of the kitchen seeing you come down with a bag in your hands. His heart cracks into two feeling the worst as he swallows the lump in his throat.

" Wh-here y-ou g-going?" he asks, clearing his throat.

" I'm going to stay with Dacre and Liv for a bit, I need some time to think about things.. about us" he takes a step towards you. His brown eyes are glossy as he searches your face with anything. He's sees the exhaustion in your eyes and the hurt too.

" I'm so sorry for hurting you" he start to say. You nod.

" I know you are Joseph, right now I don't wanna talk to you" he bows his head as his shoulder shake in silence. You can see the tears falling down his cheeks as he tries to hold it together but you needed this.

" If you love me like you say you do, then you will give this to me and when I'm ready. We will talk" you tell him. He sniffles eyeing your bag in your hands.

" Okay" he nods. You are so tempted to reach out to run your fingers through his curls. But you hold back because touching him would only make you stay. You needed time and staying here wasn't right at the moment.

Dacre takes your bag from your hand and lets you know he will wait in the car for you. You glance behind Joseph at Jamie who sends you a sad smile.

" Look after him for me, will you Jamie?" he nods making his way over to you. " I will, call me if you need anything. Okay?"

" I will, thank you for being there me" he pulls you into a hug and kisses on top of your head. Jamie was like a brother to you that always seem to look after you, even Jess who stood there watching and blew a kiss to you when you looked at her.

You waved to your friends letting them know they could stay the night if they wanted to and you'd see them soon. As you walk out to the door with your hand on the door knock, you glance at Joseph who had his face covered as he was silently sobbing to himself. His jacket no longer on him that he wore to the party. He was in a white shirt, his curls are messy as if he was gripping them and you can hear the sniffles and gasps coming from him.

It hurts to watch him like this but you needed him to give you space.

When you opened the car door to Dacre's, it blinked letting him know you are in the back. Liv in in the passenger seat.

" Ready?" Dacre asks looking at you in the review mirror. Liv turns to look bak at you placing her hand on your knee, giving it a small squeeze letting you know it will be okay. Your staring out the window as Dacre drives away but you look back hearing yelling.

It's Joseph running to the car and waving his hands, his cheeks are stained with tears. You closed your eyes feeling your heart in two as you watch as he tried to run after the car.

Joseph couldn't run after the driving car as he collapses on his knees on the ground sobbing his heart out. The other run out to comfort him, Maya is holding him as he cries onto her lap begging you to come back.

It's been a couple of says since you last seen Joseph and it was very difficult. You wouldn't wake up to the morning with kisses all over your face, breakfast in bed, showers together, him watching you get dressed telling how you beautiful you look, running your fingers through his curls, his laugh and smile, the way his name falls from your lips, the way he called you lovely or sweetheart and the sound of his voice was no longer there.

Liv has been posting on her social media about you staying with her and Dacre. Joseph has seen the sadness in your eyes, the smile not matching your eyes, he has seen the damage he had done and really misses you. The house isn't the same without you. He took one of your shirt and placed it next to his pillow.

He needed you.

He didn't want to wait anymore. His heart can't handle it anymore.

Joseph got dressed, brushing his teeth and combing his hair with his fingers looking decent as he looked at himself in the mirror. He had bags underneath his eyes from the lack of sleep and his eyes were puffy from crying.

He doesn't know if you have been crying too or not. He hoped you missed him too. He grabs his keys, his wallet, the chapstick that you let him use a million times and put on his shoes as he heads to the door.

You munched on a piece of toast in Dacre's and Liv's kitchen as Dacre made breakfast standing by the stove while Liv was in the room getting ready still.

" How are you doing?" he asks, turning to face you. He had a bottle of water in his hands, uncapping it as he downed it in one go. You were shocked how he does it.

" I'm doing okay" you tell him in the softess voice he has ever heard from you.

" Are you?" Dacre can see right through you that your holding up a front and you didn't need to. He understood you were hurting and crying helped sometimes.

" Yes" Liv has appeared behind you as she pulls you into her, hugging you. The smell of her shampoo hits your nose and makes you smile because you bought it for telling her it would make her hair shinier and softer. She started to use it as soon as you bought it for her and let Dacre even use it.

" You don't have to hide yourself from us, remember Y/N were your best friends" Dacre nodded as he hands you a plate of your breakfast.

"You're always welcomed here, you know? If you ever decide to go back and talk to him" you nod.

" I appreciate you guys so much" they both smiled at you, Dacre reached over to mess your hair. " Not nice" you pouted swatting his hands.

" Behave yourself" Liv told Dacre who laughed and bopped you on the nose. A knock has startled you three.

Liv scrunched her eyebrows at you and Dacre, the both of shook your head not knowing who was at the door. The chair scraped against the floor as she stood up. You looked at Dacre for answers but he only shrugged setting his own plate on the table.

Liv open the door to find Joseph standing there bouncing on his feet as he averts the gaze from her.

" What are you doing here?" she asks him putting her arms across her chest. Joseph nibbles on his bottom lip.

" Who is it baby?" Dacre asks as he comes up behind her seeing Joseph standing there. " Mate, what are you doing here?" he asks stepping in front of Liv.

" I need to see her" Joseph mumbles. Dacre sighs as he shakes his head.

" She told you she needs time and when she's ready, she will come see you. What part of that didn't you understand?"

"Please.." he begs the two of them on the verge of crying his eyes in front of them. Dacre sighs as he calls out to you. Your feet patted across the floor as you make your way to the door. Dacre moves out the way and Liv steps aside as the door opens more revealing Joseph.

" Joseph?" you call out to him. His name falls from your lips just how he remembers it.

He raises his head to meet your gaze and frowns seeing the puffy eyes and the bags underneath your eyes. Your hair is a bit messy but still looks cute and he eyes what you wearing. One of his shirts and shorts. Shorts that he bought for you when you went shopping with him.

" Hi" he says playing with the rings on his finger feeling his heart race as he looks at you.

"Hi" you say back, " can you give us a minute?" you tell Dacre and Liv who are watching you two from the door. " Better not do something stupid" Dacre says to Joseph, " I'm watching you" he adds before walking away. Liv squeezes your shoulder as she walks away leaving you two to have some privacy.

" Listen.." he starts to say licking his dry lips. You cross your arms across your chest waiting for him to talk.

" I know you said to give you time and space, but I can't do it anymore. I need you, I miss you, I love you Y/N. I'm begging you, come home, come back to me, come back into my arms, come back, I need you.." he pleads, a tear falls down his cheek. You watch it go down and drop down his chin. He doesn't bother to wipe away the tears that are coming.

" It hasn't been easy" you start to say, he sniffles wiping his nose and nods. " But you have hurt me over and over and over, I'm tired of it" you tell him, running a hand through your hair. " I get it your busy with work Joseph, but all I need is five minutes of your day or a simple hello is what I'll suffice. You don't even kiss me anymore like you used to, you peck my lips or forehead and that's it. We don't cuddle anymore, you haven't touched me in months even. Am I not good enough for you anymore?"

Your own tears fall down your cheeks and he watches as you break down in front of him. His heart is cracking.

" you're the most prettiest, most beautiful, most amazing woman that I have ever met. You make me a better person Y/N, I love you sweetheart" He tries to reach out to you with his hand but you step back not wanting to be touched.

" When we fight, it's never us fixing it. It leads to a hug and that's it. I need more Joseph, I need you to work this relationship to or whatever this to you. I love you too, Joseph. But I need you to show me that you are willing to make this work until I see that, I can't come home, I can't do what you want me to do. You hurt me, you broke a piece of my heart and I want to be able to come home to you, love you and look into your beautiful brown eyes and tell you how much you mean to me. But right now, Joseph. I can't."

" Please" his legs give out from under him as he collapses on the ground but his hands grip on your shorts as he looks up at you with glossy eyes. His bottom lips is quivering.

" Stop, Joseph. Get up" you touch his arm helping him up to his feet. He wipes his tears with the back of his hand. The touch on his arm sends jolts through his body. He misses your touch.

" I'll do anything to show you how much I love you, how much I need you, how important you are to me" he nods. " Can I at least hug you?" he asks wanting some sort of comfort from you, for now.

You think it over for a minute but you miss his arms around you as you step forward wrapping your arms around his waist and him around your shoulder as he holds you there breathing in your scent. His tears soaking your hair, his sniffles in your hair as he composes himself. You can smell the cigarettes off of him, he had more than he usually has.

" We can fix it. I can fix it" he mumbles into your hair pulling away from you and can't help himself letting his lip linger on your forehead. The feeling of his chapped lips makes your heart ache wanting to pull him into you and kiss him.

" I'll do anything" he repeat looking down at you. " I want you. I needy you" he continues to say. You nod.

" I need you too, Joseph" He takes a step backwards as he looks at you wanting to capture you in his memory. He turns to walk away but you can't help yourself.

" Joseph!" you call out his name, he stops in his track as he turns to face you seeing you run to him. You stand before him cupping his face with both your hands as you lean up on your toes, pressing your lips against his wanting to feel his lips on you. He doesn't hesitate for a second to kiss you back and wrap his arms around you. He tilts his head to the side making the kiss deeper kissing you like you'll vanish in the air if he doesn't hold you or kiss you back.

You pull away from him, breathless starting up at him.

" That just a jump start to fixing us" He smiles down at you for the first time in awhile. It's the smile you fell in love with from the beginning.

" Yeah, fix us" he leans down pecking your lips, once, but no five more times as jump start you call it.

#joseph quinn x you #imagine joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x y/n #jewls writes

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hollywoodxwhore · 1 year

Text

Mine | Chapter Twelve

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Content/Warnings: Smut (18+, it isn't much but it's there), getting walked in on, angst, swearing, physical fighting, blood, all the emotion

Shoutout to everyone who messages me, reblogs/comments/likes these chapters, and all the anons who give me so much love on a daily basis. Y'all really encourage me to keep writing and posting. Also...this chapter hurts. You've been warned.

Presley

Two weeks left. Just two weeks until Colson and I can stop hiding and finally tell everyone our secret.

I’m so sick of waiting. It’s so painful not to be all over Colson like I want to be. It sucks to watch him from across the room knowing how much he wants me beside him but knowing that we can’t, not with Cash around. All the while, Cash snuggles up to Olivia. Kisses her. Holds her hand. Scoops her into his arms when he runs offstage. I hate him.

I don’t hate him. He’s my brother. My best friend. But I’m so angry with him that it makes me sick. And if he reacts poorly to my and Colson’s relationship, I’m going to see red.

Our next show is in Olivia’s hometown, so we’re all staying at her parents’ huge house. They’re out of town for work which Liv says is pretty typical. The house is two stories and gigantic, with a huge pool out back, a basement with a gigantic sectional and a pool table, darts, and a table created specifically for beer pong. It’s the perfect set up for a bunch of people who like to party.

My one drink limit is now down to zero. I will never drink again after the hangover I had. Jesus. I puked all morning, and I did not like Colson having to see me like that. But he was amazing, as always, rubbing my back, getting me water, and taking care of me. When it feels like I can’t keep this secret anymore, I just look at Colson and remind myself how much he loves me and how nice it will be once we no longer have to hide.

It’s late in the evening and we’re all out by the pool. Cash and Baze are grilling burgers for everyone and us girls hang by the pool, sitting on the ledge with our feet in the water. The rest of the guys are gathered around a table, sipping beers and chatting.

Every once in a while, I’ll take a second to just soak up my surroundings, my situation. Months ago, I was home, lonely in a one-bedroom apartment, doing nothing but working and playing the occasional show. I thought that was all there was to life. Now, I’m surrounded by people I consider close friends, traveling almost every single night, and in a happy, healthy relationship. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this, but I’m not complaining.

I haven’t told Ashleigh yet about what’s going on with me and Colson. She and him have been friends for so long that I’m scared of how she’ll react. Until she brings it up or we confess to Cash, I’m keeping it a secret. When I can get a second alone with Olivia, she checks up on me and reassures me that everything will be okay.

I glance over at Colson for the millionth time, and this time, he catches my eye. His smile is so small that no one else would be likely to notice, but I see it. He looks gorgeous as always in a backwards hat, shirtless in nothing but a pair of swim trunks. Nice and short, showing off those skinny legs, just how I like it. What I wouldn’t give to go over and sit on his lap, to take his face in my hands and kiss him. It hurts not being able to do that.

I sigh quietly and grab my phone from where it’s sitting on the pavement beside me. I open up my text thread with Colson and send, Meet me in the basement in 5?

I watch as Colson picks up his phone and reads the message. He types something quickly, sets his phone back down, and returns to his conversation like nothing happened. My phone buzzes in my hand and I read the message. Can’t wait.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” I tell the girls, standing up. I dry my feet off on my towel and then slip inside the air conditioned house, shivering at the chill. I glance out the sliding door to make sure no one followed me, and then sneak into the basement. The next five minutes are torture, waiting for Colson to join me.

The basement door opens and I hear footsteps, and for a second, I’m worried it isn’t Colson, but then I see his long legs tromping down the stairs. He grins when he sees me, and immediately, I’m in his arms. I giggle as he kisses all over my face, squeezing me to his chest. “I missed you,” he mumbles against my skin.

“Missed you more,” I tell him. He pulls back a little to look down at me, and his eyes darken. My breath hitches and I swallow hard. “Do you think we have time?” I whisper.

“I need us to have time,” he says, gripping my hips to guide me around the pool table. He turns me so I’m facing the stairs, my back to him, and he caresses my waist. His lips press to my neck and I sigh, tilting my head to give him more access to my sensitive skin.

“Mm, come on, baby,” I plead, eyes closing as he tucks my bathing suit to the side and brings his fingers between my legs, finding me wet from just the idea of him fucking me.

He groans softly and spreads my arousal around. “Fuck,” he grunts. “So wet already. Can I fuck you, baby?”

“Of course,” I say hastily, arching my back a little.

“Fuck,” Colson breathes, and then I can hear him taking down his swim trunks. I gasp when I feel the head of his cock against my entrance, and I do my best to stifle a whimper as he bends his knees and slides in. “Missed you so much,” he sighs as he pushes in to the hilt.

I shiver and close my eyes, biting my lip hard. I grip the table with shaking hands. “M-missed you, too,” I manage. “Fuck, Cols–”

Colson picks up his pace right away, gripping my hips firmly, and I whine in the back of my throat, hanging my head. It’s so hard not to moan, not to cry out his name when he’s filling me so perfectly. I can tell Colson is trying to conceal his moans, too, letting nothing but soft grunts and sighs slip past his lips.

“More,” I beg, and Colson listens, pressing me harder into the table to fuck me faster. The head of his cock is slamming right into my g-spot and I bite my lip so hard I taste blood to stifle my sounds. I whimper when I feel myself starting to pulse around him, when out of nowhere–

“What the fuck?”

Oh no.

Oh, god no.

Cash.

My eyes fly open and with a curse, Colson pulls back from me, yanking his shorts back up hastily. My heart is pounding so hard that Colson can probably hear it. Cash stands at the bottom of the stairs, stock still, looking back and forth between me and Colson. He’s breathing hard and his face is red. He is pissed. Furious.

“Cash,” I say warningly, but he shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m not doing this.” He throws up his hands and starts up the stairs.

“Cash, wait!” I call, coming around from behind the table.

“No, you can both fuck off,” he says, pausing before coming back down the stairs. “And you,” he says to Colson, coming a little closer. Colson stands stiffly behind the pool table, jaw clenched and mouth shut. “You. I told you not to fucking do that. Fuck you, Kells.” With that, he turns and storms up the stairs, leaving me and Colson in his wake.

“Fuck,” I say weakly, covering my face with my hands as tears well in my eyes.

Colson comes over and wraps my shaking body in his arms. “It’s okay,” he says quietly. “It’ll be okay.”

“This is the worst possible way for him to find out,” I whine, burying my face in his chest. “I need to talk to him.”

“Not now,” Colson says after a moment’s hesitation.

“Yeah,” I agree. “Not a good idea when he’s raging like this.” I bite my lip. “What do we do, Col?” I pull back from the embrace to look up at him.

Colson smiles weakly but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Guess we don’t have to hide anymore,” he says halfheartedly.

I sigh and rest my forehead against his chest. Fuck. This is so, so bad.

Colson

Presley and I don’t bother to rejoin the group. We take separate showers and retreat to our separate rooms. The plan was for her to sneak into my room after everyone else is asleep but I doubt that’ll be happening now. With Cash as fired up as he is, we definitely don’t need to be throwing it in his face.

I don’t know what to do. I have to fix this. I can’t let this fuck up Presley’s relationship with Cash, and I don’t want to lose him as a friend, either. Yeah, it will suck for the band if he leaves, but I care more about the relationships at risk. Rook knows, of course, but will the others hate me, too? My stomach is so knotted with anxiety that it physically hurts not to curl up in the fetal position.

I must lie there for hours trying to fall asleep, but I already struggle to sleep without Pres beside me, and with the anxiety I’m feeling, there’s no way I’m getting any shut eye tonight. I have to do something about this. I can’t go to bed this way.

Finally, I roll out of bed and head quietly down to the kitchen. I never got to have a burger, so I’m starving, even though my stomach hurts. I might as well try to eat something. I pause outside the kitchen when I see the light is already on. It’s past two in the morning now, and the house is quiet. I didn’t think anyone else was up. I tell myself to chill. It could be anyone. It’s very unlikely that it’s…

Cash. Shit. He stands in front of the open fridge, but he turns around when he sees me. His nostrils flare and his eyes darken. “You motherfucker,” he says, and then, he’s lunging at me.

It startles me so much that I don’t block the first punch. Cash’s tattooed knuckles slam right into my cheekbone and I wince, but it’s not the first time I’ve been punched and it probably won’t be the last. I take a step back when he swings again, and the third time, I catch his fist. He snarls and swings at me with the other fist, and when he misses, adrenaline must kick in because he backs me up and slams me into the wall with more force than I thought he was capable of inflicting. My head knocks back against the wall and I see stars for a second. And then, his fist collides with my nose.

“Cash, fuck, stop!” I roar, and fuck, I don’t want to hit him back, but he just keeps coming, and a guy can only take so much. Especially when I’m mad as fuck at him, too. When he rears back his fist, I throw mine and hit him hard. Blood flies and he collapses backwards into the island.

“What the fuck is going on?” Slim yells, running into the kitchen followed by Baze and Justin. When he sees Cash lunge at me again, he and Justin cut him off, holding him back. He’s like a caged lion, trying to get to his prey, gnashing his teeth as blood drips from his nose.

I’m panting hard, and Baze grabs my arm, but I shake him off. I’m not going for the kid again. I just needed him to stop hitting me. I swipe my hand across my face and it comes away bloody. I’m not as mad as I should be. The fight seems to slowly go out of Cash and we’re all quiet, the eye of the storm.

Until Hurricane Presley enters.

“What the fuck?” she cries, looking between me and Cash. She can obviously tell I’m more beaten up than her brother, and she quickly decides on her victim. Her nostrils flare and her eyes darken just like her twin’s, and suddenly, the resemblance is uncanny. The only difference is that Presley scares me and Cash doesn’t.

She zeroes in on Cash and even Slim and Justin know to back away. “Cash David Carver, I’m going to fucking kill you!” she screams, and I’ve never heard her this way, almost feral. She lunges at Cash and, despite him having four inches on her, she throws him to the ground with ease. “You motherfucker! How dare you! Colson doesn’t deserve that!” She’s not even hitting him, she’s just sitting on his chest pinning his arms down with her knees. “What is wrong with you!” she yells.

The rest of us are dead silent. No one expected this to happen tonight. Rook, Ash, and Olivia eventually find their way to the kitchen, too. When Olivia sees Cash, her eyes widen. “Oh my god!” she says. “Cash–”

“Get away from us,” Presley snarls, and my blood runs cold. Holy shit. My girlfriend is scary when she’s furious. She turns back to Cash and looks down at him. He looks a little scared and he doesn’t fight against her. Before any of us can predict it, Presley’s hand winds back and she smacks him across the face so hard that each and every one of us cringes, a few “oooh”s rising.

With that, Presley gets to her feet and goes to the sink, ripping off a paper towel. She gets it wet and then makes her way to me. She bunches up the towel and gently dabs at my face. My eyelashes flutter at her gentle touch. Cash has to get over this. He has to. We love each other. Pres gently wipes off the blood, examining my face with her beautiful eyes. “There,” she says softly. “I think that’s all. You okay, baby?”

“I’m fine,” I say quietly. Presley nods and then leans in, kissing me softly.

“What the fuck?” Slim says, looking over at Rook who’s stone faced. “You knew, man?”

“Sorry,” Rook says, but he doesn’t sound sorry.

“Who the fuck else knew?”

“Just me,” Olivia says quietly. Cash is sitting against the island now and he looks over at Olivia, his eyes flashing with pain.

“Oh, this is so fucked up,” he croaks, getting to his feet. “I’m out.” With that, he sulks out of the kitchen and towards the stairs.

“Cash, wait!” Liv calls, scurrying after him, leaving the rest of us standing in the kitchen.

Justin clears his throat. “Um. Explain?” he asks.

Presley looks up at me and I clear my throat. “Presley and I are together,” I say slowly. “She’s my girlfriend.” I gain confidence the more I speak and I stand up a little straighter. “And I love her. I don’t give a fuck what any of y’all think, I’m not a manwhore who can’t keep his dick in his pants, ight? I’m capable of falling in love and I have. I’ve found the girl I want to be with forever. And if anyone else has shit to say about it, take a look at Cash’s face and decide if that’s the right move.” I’m breathing hard when I’m done, but I soften when Presley wraps her arm around my waist. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and tug her close.

“Dude,” Slim says, and that’s when I realize he’s smiling. So are Justin, Baze, and Ashleigh.

Baze laughs and shakes his head. “You crazy motherfucker,” he says. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Same,” Slim says with a chuckle. “You two look great together.”

“If you’re happy, we’re happy,” Justin adds.

“I’m just mad you didn’t tell me,” Ash says.

I relax immediately, pressing a kiss to Presley’s forehead. “Thanks,” I croak. “But Cash hates me. He told me when Pres first joined us to stay away from her. Clearly I didn’t listen.”

The boys wince. “But that’s not fair,” Presley says. “I’m 23 years old, just like Cash. It’s not up to him who I date.”

“True,” Slim says with a nod.

“Probably just weird to see his sister with his friend,” Rook says quietly. “Not saying he did the right thing, just…saying.”

I sigh softly, suddenly exhausted. I can’t believe I hit Cash. Fuck. When I hear Presley sniffle, I look down, and I can see her silently crying. “Hey,” I say softly, holding her face. “Are you okay?”

She sniffs again. “This is so messed up,” she whimpers. “Cash is my best friend. I can’t believe he hit you.”

“I hit him back,” I say.

“Of course you did,” she says. “Was he coming at you?” I hesitate, then nod. “Exactly. Self-defense.” She wipes her eyes. “God, I’m so mad at him.”

“I know,” I say softly.

“But he’s hurt,” she says. “I need to go check on him.”

I nod and let her go. “Okay.” Presley takes a deep breath and then leaves the kitchen. I groan and sink to the ground, tearing my hands through my hair. “Jesus Christ,” I mutter.

“It’s gonna be fine, dude,” Slim says. “Cash’ll get over it.”

“I don’t know,” I croak. “What if he doesn’t? Pres won’t choose me over her brother.” And there it is. That’s what I’m really scared of. Cash will never approve, and Presley will never choose a guy over her family, and she’ll break my fucking heart. Suddenly, it’s all too much. All of the emotions that I held in for 29 years, all of the anger and fear and love and joy and misery, and much to my horror, I start to cry in front of my friends, the toughest dudes I know.

But then the toughest dudes I know are sitting next to me, pulling me into their arms. “It’s okay, bro, it’s all good,” Slim soothes.

“It’s alright, Kells,” Baze adds.

Ash hands me a tissue and sits down on the floor. Thank god for these friends. I would be totally lost without them. We sit there for a long time, and Presley, Cash, and Olivia never resurface. I need to get up and check on Presley, but I’m so scared to talk to her.

“Ash,” I say. “Will you go check on Pres?”

“Of course.” Ash gets to her feet and heads upstairs. Five minutes later, she’s back down, and she looks apprehensive. “Cash and Olivia are locked in her room and Presley is locked in hers.”

“Fuck,” I mutter. “I gotta go check on Presley.” I get to my feet and hug my brothers, then take a deep breath and head up the stairs to find my girl.

Sure enough, her door is locked and I rap softly. “Pres, baby, it’s Colson.”

Silence.

My gut twists. “Pres?” I knock again. Nothing. I let my forehead fall against the door and I sigh shakily, closing my eyes. I can’t do this. I got into a physical fight with one of my close friends, my girlfriend is locked in her room ignoring me, and I cried for the first time in years in front of my friends. Everything is such a fucking mess.

And I can’t handle it.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly x ofc #mgk #mgk fanfic #mgk smut #mgk x ofc #colson #colson fanfic #colson smut #colson x ofc #colson baker #colson baker fanfic #colson baker smut #colson baker x ofc

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moyokeansimblr · 5 months

Text

Get to know you: Sims Style

Well I was patiently waiting to be tagged but it's not happened yet and @isimchi "tagged" anyone who hasn't so that means me 😁

What’s your favorite Sims death?

I mean, I have to say drowning. I have many a memory of my childhood best friend and I batch creating like 100 sims with the sole purpose to drown and make haunted lots... Surely we all did that though, right?

Alpha CC or Maxis Match?

These days I'm maxis match, and in particular my cc is 90-95% 4t2 stuff. Sometimes I miss non-clay hairs but not enough that I'd wanna switch back. I'm actually extremely happy with my game aesthetic at the moment. I see the appeal of alpha and I am alpha in sims 3 but I don't think I could go back to it in sims 2 anymore.

Do you cheat your sims weight?

Not directly... occasionally I've dragged needs up so a sim will exercise longer when they want/need a body skill because when it's not fall the body skill takes FOREVER to gain. So then they'll end up exercising so long that they get fit where they might not otherwise have. That's as close as I'd get to cheating their weight though.

Do you move objects?

I mean, yes. I both move objects and moveobjects. 😉 (although I've had the cheat alias "mon/mof" (yes, one f) for ages I don't even remember the proper way to type the cheat.

Favorite Mod?

Hmm that's tough. Some staples I couldn't live without are sim blender, ACR, monique's hacked computers, all the no regen mods, the auto saver, gussy up, and for some reason smonaff's period mod is the mod I've had in my game longer than anything else I have now. Been using that since the 2000s. Is it necessary? Probably not. Is it annoying? Yes but periods are annoying irl too. Would I miss it if I didn't have it in my game? Greatly.

First Expansion/Game Pack/Stuff Pack?

My parents bought the sims 1 on release when I was 3, and then at some point shortly thereafter I ended up entirely hijacking my mom's computer. But while they did buy every pack on release as well, the earliest pack that I still have solid memories of playing is Vacation. Is that all it was called? I think non-US versions had a cooler name like On Holiday or something.

Do you pronounce live mode like aLIVE or LIVing?

Ya know... I've never really thought about it until now but both. Sometimes I say LIVE and sometimes LIV. I don't know what goes on in my brain to decide which one I'm gonna say at any given point but I know for fact I say both.

Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made?

I've had many favorite sims over the years, most long lost into the void. But one sim I think about a lot is one of my old ts3 sims Levi Engle. He was one of my first truly evil sims and really one of my last proper edgy sims as well and I've not had anyone quite like him since. This was like 2016 I think? I'm still waiting to have a sim like him again, in either 3 or 2. "Made" is not quite accurate, he was born. But he's one of my own, not a premade.

Have you made a simself?

Oh have I.

Which is your favorite EA hair color?

Red. Specifically since I prefer 4t2 clay hairs in EA's colors these days the red that's swatch 9. This one.

Favorite EA hair?

Hmmm... In ts2

And in ts3

Favorite life stage?

Young Adult, in all versions of the game. University is my favorite EP across the board.

Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay?

Gameplay. Every so often I feel build-y, and I have made entire custom worlds in ts3 and hoods in ts2 where I've build everything myself but mostly I prefer to just use other people's or the game's builds and just enjoy playing.

Are you a CC creator?

I sometimes feel kind of weird using the word "creator" since all I do is convert stuff but yes. I share cc.

Do you have any Simblr friends or a Sim Squad?

I don't know? I have some mutuals that I go like 😁 whenever I see in my notifs or messages from. But I don't really exactly talk to anybody.

Do you have any sims merch?

I've got a blanket with plumbbobs on it and my brother's girlfriend got me a sheet of ts4 stickers I've not used yet. Otherwise, do all the old discs and prima guides count? My discs are the most important things I own.

Do you have a YouTube for sims?

Not really. I have a youtube channel that's a hodgepodge for both my eurovision ranking videos and the occasional sims thing. But I'm not a sims youtuber at all.

How has your “Sims style” changed throughout your years of playing?

Oh boy, it has a lot. When I was a kid I destroyed pleasantview with fairy and mermaid cc from "UserDeb" on the Exchange and SapphireSims2 I think it was called? Mad emo cc and like households where it'd be two families living together so the teen girl and teen boy could secretly meet together in the dead of night in the bathroom. Back then lots of one-off totally unrelated families in an otherwise empty custom hood that I'd play for the duration of a random idea I had then drop. Then in the 2010s I had a long stint of this like making 8 YA girls and 8 YA boys and pairing them up and then graduate and marry and kid and then create 8 more YAs in CAS and repeat and that got like 15 generations once. I did that kind of not really playing but more just like breeding for years. Whereas whenever I'd stop playing 2 and play 3 instead I would "properly play" and have long ass legacies. I never touched the premade sims until I tried to play Pleasantview in 2020. I did have a few failed megahoods then. Now I am wants-based and I prefer to have as little control as possible over my sims. I could say a lot more here but I'm tired.

Who’s your favorite CC creator?

Talk about a hard question! For times sake I'm going to say @deedee-sims because when I deleted my 48+ GB folder of alpha CC to start anew maxis match-y the first new CC I had was everything of DeeDee's.

What expansion/gamepack is your favorite?

ts2 University. I just love it.

-------

I don't know who has and hasn't done this since I feel like I'm late as I never got the tag. But since I really wanted to do it, I'm sure someone else who hasn't been tagged wants to too. So if you've not done it, go for it!!

#moyokean #tag game #this post took me forever it's my bed time #so my brain can't think of tags

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slothquisitor · 2 months

Text

What Moves in the Dark

The Netherbrain is defeated, and all of Astarion's plans for his future dissolve when his closest friends leave him for Avernus. Struggling to find purpose and a way to walk in the sun again, he meets Liv, a wizard working in an alchemy shop in the Lower City. She has her own reasons for wanting to help him, but their search for a cure is put on hold when a mysterious blood illness begins sweeping the Lower City.

Together, they team up to solve the mystery.

A Baldur's Gate 3 Eldritch Horror AU.

Read on AO3.

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Prologue

The chamber is silent as a tomb before the figure begins. Magic coils in the air, a snake poised to strike. Then, there is the rhythmic drip, drip, drip of blood as the figure mutters words for a spell under their breath.

There is something reverent about the ritual as if this spell was a prayer and not simply a plea. Even the fury held behind their teeth feels like a benediction. The words spill out, slick and oily in the air, carrying a power all their own. But there are no gods listening; there is no divinity here.

It is something else that awakens instead. Something that has been slumbering. Something old and patient and twisting. The figure knows not what it calls upon, but it answers anyway. The figure asks for vengeance, for power, but they will not find that here. It is not interested in vengeance.

It is only here to consume.

It reaches out, in the space between worlds, crawls between the words the figure chants. There is blood, so much blood, and blood has power enough. It will do.

The spell is finished, and the figure is not satisfied. It hasn’t worked; the world is unchanged. It doesn’t care. The figure leaves the room, climbs the winding stone steps to somewhere brighter, open, better. Suddenly the world explodes with variety and chaos and potential .

The figure announces that the spell did not work to the others present in the room. One reaches out, a hand placed on the figure’s shoulder. It startles at the contact, sends out a touch, and is suddenly torn asunder. It mourns, it cries, it reaches for that piece of it that is now gone forever. But then, it can feel this other self, like a phantom limb. It is more.

It reaches further and further, beyond itself, tumbling in freedom, in ecstasy. There is so much to find, to discover, to take. But there is another power in this place, a rippling sort of magic it intentionally skitters away from. That’s alright; it can be patient.

It retreats, pulls back slowly, and waits. And waits. And waits.

Until it doesn’t.

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Chapter One

Astarion stands alone on the docks. Behind him, his ruined city is celebrating and mourning and rebuilding. In truth, he’s not sure why he’s here, again. Ever since Gale had told him about Karlach’s engine, about Wyll and Tavren’s desperate plea to take her to Avernus, he’s wanted to return to the spot. He thinks he can make out the scorch marks in the planks of wood, and though he knows they’re alive and well and probably kicking ass in Avernus…his dearest friends are gone and he didn’t even get to say goodbye.

He hadn’t been far from his friends, but he might as well have been a world away because the sun was shining and he was no longer immune to it. They’d looked for him; he’d heard their shouts, but he hadn’t wanted to see them. He hadn’t wanted them to see him, weak, pathetic, just a vampire spawn once again. He’d stayed hidden, and waited alone until nightfall, unable to bask in the victory in the face of so much loss.

So he hadn’t heard the news until he arrived at the Elfsong, the air filled with desperate and fervent celebration. He hadn’t intended to join in, he didn’t feel he had much to celebrate, but then…four of his friends were missing from the group in the middle of the tavern. What was left of their group was accepting thanks and drinks and gratitude from casual moths. There were whispers in the crowd of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate gone to take on Avernus, to the Blood War, so he’d pulled Shadowheart and Gale away from the chaotic revelry and they’d told him everything. How Lae’zel had jumped on the back of a red dragon. How Tavren, Karlach, and Wyll had gone to the Hells.

His losses just kept stacking.

He’d stayed just long enough for a drink of mediocre wine, and then he’d slipped away, unnoticed. And now he’s back here, and he’s not sure why. Just hours ago he and his friends had celebrated their victory here, and had wondered at the tadpoles now gone from their heads. He wishes he could go back to the moment just before it all fell apart, when it felt as if the whole world was waiting for him.

And now? The world is still there, still waiting, but he’s not sure how to reach out and grab it on his own. He had hoped that once this was all over, they’d keep adventuring, keep finding trouble and causing chaos together. He hadn’t considered another future, hadn’t believed that they wouldn’t find some way to fix Karlach’s engine and move right along to the next heroic deed. Tavren had done so many impossible things, what’s an infernal engine after gods and hags and a giant Netherbrain?

He spends a long time on the dock in the darkness, until there is a light blue quickening on the horizon that tells him dawn isn’t far off. It’s depressing just how quickly the learned habits from two hundred years of retreats just like this kick in, but instead of Szarr Palace, he heads back to the Elfsong. He doesn’t know where else to go.

In the days that follow, their group dwindles even further. Halsin and Shadowheart depart the city too. Minsc and Jaheira are busy with the work of rebuilding, and he is left with only Gale for company.

“Wonderful news, I have managed to procure us new lodgings!” Gale announces one late afternoon while Astarion counts down the hours to nightfall in his room. It was probably practical for them to be moved out of the large room their group had shared and into smaller, private rooms, but Astarion is starting to hate the Elfsong. He’s counted the floorboards, found odd shapes in the stitching on the curtains, and wondered if this is all his life is now.

Despite not being charged a penny for their rooms, probably out of deference to their service to the city, he’s sure they’re quickly outstaying their welcome. Astarion doesn’t have anywhere else to go, so he’d decided not to worry about that particular problem until he has to. At least the Elfsong has an endless supply of wine.

“New lodgings?” Astarion asks. If Gale has gotten an apartment in some facsimile of forced domesticity for them, he’s not going no matter how much he hates this room.

“Rolan has kindly invited us to stay with him and his siblings at Ramazith’s Tower,” Gale says with a sense of accomplishment. “The help of another wizard will be most welcome as I puzzle out how to get the crown out of the Chionthar and returned to Mystra.”

Ah, so it’s charity. Fabulous. “No.”

“Oh come on, Astarion. You can’t tell me that you’re happy here trapped in this room during the daylight hours.” Gale is doing that thing where his words are earnest and his eyes are intensely focused. It’d worked on Tav, but it won’t work on him.

“I have no desire to be in the debt of a trio of tieflings we’ve rescued three times over,” Astarion replies.

Gale nods like he understands, and Astarion resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Rolan is a friend, Astarion. A friend offering his wizard tower that has plenty of room and many, many books. We merely skimmed the surface of the tomes that were in Lorroakan’s possession. Perhaps there’s something that might help us find a way for you to walk in the sun again.”

Astarion isn’t stupid. He can see what Gale is doing, dangling out hope and optimism like some second-rate trinket peddler. It’s clear that Gale will be going, and Astarion doesn’t want to be left behind again. So he grimaces and sighs. “Ugh. Fine. But there better be something in that book collection that is actually helpful if I’m giving up proximity to an endless supply of wine.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Astarion is pretty damn sure he’s going to regret this.

***

“Have you ever conducted an autopsy?” Kharis asks, his words softer and more gentle than Liv expected. It’s not a question she’s expecting, but then, her work at The Shadowed Quill hasn’t been anything she expected either.

“No,” she replies and immediately wonders if admitting this means she’ll get dismissed from the room, lectured about all the ways she’s useless.

But Kharis just nods understandingly, and Liv reminds herself he’s never made her feel small or useless. The dwarf sighs, his bright red beard shifting against his barrel chest. Liv hasn’t ever asked how old Kharis is, but when he looks at her like he’s doing now, his blue eyes carry the weight of many, many years. She doesn’t know what his life was like before he opened this alchemy shop in the Lower City, but she suspects it was not a kind one if the deep, jagged scar that bisects his left eye and cheek is any indication.

“That’s alright,” he says kindly, “it’s been a while since I’ve done this. I’ll just have you watch and take notes for me, yes?”

She’s grateful for the out. She’s never considered herself squeamish, but after the mind flayer incident a few days ago where she’d been forced to fight and kill no less than three illithid enemies, she’d found herself looking around at the death and destruction afterward, and she’d had to retch in the alley.

Information had trickled out in the days following the attack, and it had answered some of the questions she and Kharis had, but not all of them. The Shadowed Quill was not meant to be a clinic, and Kharis and Liv are not doctors, but they do trade in magical remedies, and sometimes when no one else has answers, people are desperate enough it doesn’t matter.

It certainly hadn’t mattered for Alfran, who lays on a table in their workroom, dead. Alfran had come in complaining of headaches, weakness, dizzy spells, and bouts of memory loss. They’ve seen a lot of that lately…now Liv knows some of those people were infected with mind flayer tadpoles because they’d all turned into mind flayers in one terrifying, horrible instant. But there are also people like Alfran, whose symptoms did not go away when a brain fell out of the sky. He’d died yesterday, and there had been nothing she or Kharis could do.

It’s only been six months since Liv left her family’s comfortable Upper City estate, but it feels longer for all the heartbreak she’s seen. Alfran’s dead and there’s no one else to care, no one else who’s trying to get to the bottom of it. No one else wants to help the other people with the same symptoms, and it’s all because they’re poor, and they live on the wrong side of the city. Before she came here, she knew about the cosmic unfairness of the universe, was intimately acquainted with loss and pain, but it’s another thing entirely to see it play out on the street she lives on.

“Ready?” Kharis asks her, scalpel in hand. Their workroom is not made for this sort of work. The counters and cabinets are littered with everything they cleared off the workbench to accommodate Alfran. Globes of light bob up and down slowly in the space, lighting up the room.

She smooths her hands down her apron and steps closer to the table, to Alfran. He was young, barely eighteen, his golden skin pale in death. He’d been a runner for the Guild, and Liv had held his mother’s hand while she wept over her dead son. It had been more than a little alien to see a parent mourn a child like that. When her sister had died, her parents hadn’t so much as flinched.

She picks up her notebook and quill. “Ready.”

Kharis murmurs a prayer to Lathander before he begins. Liv catches only about half the words, but glances away anyway, as if she is witnessing something private. She doesn’t put any of her faith in the gods, and has never believed they listened or cared. But Kharis’ voice is soft, his eyes as kind as they had been when he had asked Alfran’s mother for her permission to examine her dead child. Liv had been surprised at the care, and she’s surprised by it now too.

Kharis takes the scalpel to the skin and begins to carve in a diagonal down from Alfran’s shoulder toward the center of his chest. It takes a moment, but the cut begins to ooze with blood. Kharis draws back his scalpel in shock.

“That…that shouldn’t be happening.”

“What?” Liv’s heart is racing, there’s something in Kharis’ tone that spells danger.

Kharis peers down at Alfran’s body before placing two thick fingers against his pulse point. “He’s been dead nearly a day, all his blood should have been pooled at his back.”

Right, she’d forgotten. Liv is reminded that they are not doctors, not experts at this. They are scholars playing at medicine because there is no one else interested in a boy from the Lower City who died mysteriously.

And yet, the wound is leaking blood anyway, as if the blood is somehow still pumping through his veins. But it’s not, so this doesn’t make sense.

Kharis pulls his hand away from Alfran’s neck, before crouching to peer below Alfran’s back, which is lifted slightly by a block beneath his upper back. Liv crouches as well, though she must drop almost to her knees. The telltale mottling of the skin is there, indicating that the blood has pooled, so why is the cut Kharis made bleeding?

They both stand up at the same time and immediately freeze. The blood is no longer oozing. Instead, tendrils of it reach like the tiny weeds that sprout between the cracks in the cobblestones. “Step back, Liv,” Kharis warns, his voice unyielding. “Don’t touch anything.”

He mutters something Liv doesn’t catch, and a blue spectral pair of hands appears. Kharis himself has backed away, but he’s watching and directing the mage hands that pick up a specimen jar and carefully coax the blood into it, just like one might a spider onto a paper. The blood moves easily, as if wanting a direction.

“What in the hells.” Liv chokes on the fear, on the acrid stench of wrongness in the air. “What is that?”

Only once the bottle is sealed does Kharis examine the blood within, the way it branches and reaches and shifts. “I don’t know, but we need to burn that body immediately.”

***

If Astarion had to admit it, staying at Ramazith’s Tower is better than being cooped up in his tiny room at the Elfsong all day. There are a great many windows in the tower, but Rolan and Gale have enchanted enough of them to block out the sun so that he can move about the tower freely, even in the daylight hours. It had been a kindness he hadn’t expected, hadn’t known how to express his gratitude for properly, so he hadn’t said a thing about them.

There is plenty of space in the tower, and it’s easy to be alone. Which is what he tells himself he wants, even if he’s not sure that’s true anymore. He spends the first day or two mostly in his room, not wanting to be out and about the tower if it means acknowledging the kindness present. But by the third day, he’s figured out that Rolan might make a comment or two about the place being his, but no one is holding this over his head, no one is demanding a thing of him.

Gale and Rolan are busy working on recovering the crown, and Astarion has no plans, no direction for what he wants his life to be. He has longed for freedom for so long, for the ability to plan and shape his own life, his own destiny. And now that it is here, he is lost. His list of friends and allies dwindles by the day. He doesn’t know what he wants.

The only thing he does know is that he wants to walk in the sun again. Tavren had been sure they could find a way, just like they’d been sure they’d find a way to fix Karlach’s engine. Astarion had hoped they’d all be looking for the answer together instead of him alone, but he’s got a wizard’s tower at his disposal for at least the time being, and well, he might as well use it. He spends the long daylight hours looking through books and taking notes. It’s slow, boring work, but he’s hopeful that if he just keeps looking, he’ll find something.

“I found another tome that mentioned vampires down in one of the vaults,” Rolan says approaching the desk Astarion has claimed for research. The space is a mess, piles of books and scrolls and hastily scribbled notes. If the new wizard in residence of this tower is bothered by it, he doesn’t say so.

Astarion looks up from the scroll he’d been reading. “Who’s the author?”

Rolan consults the spine of the book. “Lysander Grimholt.”

Astarion points with his quill at a pile near the top of the desk. “Add it to that pile.”

“You mean there is a method to the madness?” Rolan asks with a cock of his head.

Astarion glares at the tiefling. “If you’re not here to help, you can go.” He’s not sure about the wisdom of ordering around a wizard in his own tower, but then, the tower only belongs to him because Tavren made it so. He discards the worry.

“Well, if you’re going to be rude then I won’t tell you about the lead Cal and Lia wanted me to pass along to you.”

“A lead?” Astarion repeats. He doesn’t mean to sound quite so doubtful, but it is what it is.

Rolan grins, and then the little shit shrugs. “Guess you’ll have to ask them since I’m clearly bothering you.”

There’s a lightheartedness to the exchange that Astarion might have appreciated a few weeks ago, but it falls flat now. “Just tell me what it is.”

Rolan gives him a complex look and his smile disappears. “There’s an alchemist shop in the Lower City, apparently they’ve been helping people with all sorts of magical maladies.”

“You think some Lower City magical swindlers are going to be able to help me?” Astarion scoffs.

Rolan sighs. “I wouldn’t mention it at all except that Lorroakan had complained about them taking business before, and seemed somewhat convinced that they were legitimate competition. Who knows? It might at least be worth a try.”

Astarion’s not exactly making loads of progress here. He’s found plenty of books mentioning vampires and chronicling how to kill them, but he’s found nothing else useful. Astarion is well-read, mostly out of necessity, he had so few avenues of escape for two hundred years, but he’s not a researcher or a scholar. Rolan and Gale have helped, but what’s the harm in casting a wider net?

“I’ll pay the little shop a visit this evening,” Astarion says. Rolan takes it as a dismissal, and Astarion watches him retreat. “Thank you, by the way. It’s…well it’s something.” Though what, he’s not sure yet. Rolan doesn’t turn, and instead waves a hand to indicate it’s nothing and continues on.

When he’s not annoyed at being in the wizard’s debt and trespassing on his hospitality, Astarion does actually like Rolan. He’s grumpy and gruff all to disguise his deep care for his siblings, and he has enough ambition to see an opening and take it. Like this tower that’s now his. Astarion can respect that.

He glances out the windows, to the bright and shining day just out of his reach, and gets back to work.

***

The Shadowed Quill is quiet this evening. They’ve likely seen their last customers for the day, and Liv should turn the sign around and lock the door, but she’s busy cataloging potions and spell components, and Kharis has stayed later than usual, examining the blood they’d pulled from Alfran. He hasn’t shared any theories with her yet, but she suspects it has less to do with secrecy and more that he is genuinely baffled.

She is too, if she’s honest. Curiosity has seeped the fear from the situation, and she’s been spending her off-hours poring over every tome they have on blood diseases and disorders. Nothing has explained the viscous tendrils that emerged out of Alfran. They’ve taken blood samples from two more people who’d come to them with similar symptoms, but so far, Alfran’s blood appears to be the only one behaving oddly. They haven’t told anyone about the strangeness with the blood, had given reassurances and promises to the others that they have no business giving. But the families can’t pay, so all they get is a cleric and a wizard with good intentions.

Liv knows why Kharis does it, the sense of responsibility and righteous duty compels him forward, but for her, it’s more complicated. She doesn’t know what it is she believes in, where she places her trust, she just knows that in the face of so much suffering, she can’t stand idly by. But she and Kharis help, they always help. And Liv tells herself that she’s adding some net value good to this world, and maybe it’s enough to balance out her past, her family name.

The bell over the door rings as the door opens and someone enters. “We’re actually closed,” Liv calls.

“Your sign out front says otherwise.” The elven man who steps into the shop is pale and wiry, all sharp angles. He’s dressed finely and his accent carries the inflated sense of self that so many Upper City types have. He’s also beautiful if beauty was something that could be balanced on a razor’s edge.

“I apologize, I forgot to turn it, but our hours are posted. You’ll need to come back in the morning.”

The man’s nose wrinkles in displeasure. “I can decidedly not come back in the morning.”

She knows his type: pompous, entitled, and rude when something doesn��t go their way. And yet, there’s something vaguely familiar about him, like she’s seen him somewhere before. Liv keeps her voice even, but firm. “Like, I said: we’re closed. We’d be happy to help you with whatever you need in the morning.”

“Do have any idea who I am?” the man asks, his voice rising steadily in both pitch and indignance.

If he’s a noble, she doesn’t recognize him. She shrugs. “No.”

“Honestly, it’s as if some people aren’t grateful at all. Look, I understand you’re closed, but I have a very restricted schedule when it comes to visiting tiny alchemy shops in the Lower City, so maybe you can just tell me if you can help me.”

Liv’s curiosity gets the better of her. “With what exactly?”

He seems genuinely surprised at her question as if he didn’t expect her to acquiesce. “I…well…I’m…you see….uh, what’s the best way to put this? I’m…I’m a vampire.” He rushes the end of the phrase, tacks a laugh on at the end as if he’s told her a joke.

And suddenly it all clicks into place. His too-sharp features, the pointed incisors she understands now are fangs, the air of danger that seems to bleed off of him. And then she recognizes him from the broadsheets. “You’re one of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate.”

He looks genuinely exasperated that it took her this long to get there. “Yes,” he says, drawing out the syllables. “I’m Astarion.”

“Thanks for protecting the city…I guess?” Liv replies, unsure exactly where he’s going with this. She’s interested in helping him, but he still hasn’t told her a damn thing beyond what he is.

He glares at her as if she’s being deliberately obtuse. “Can you help me or not?”

“With what exactly? You still haven’t told me your problem.”

“And he won’t. I’m afraid you need to leave.”

Both she and Astarion’s attention snaps to the doorway that leads to the workroom. Kharis stands there, axe in hand. Astarion raises both hands. “Now, I know I was a little rude, but this is uncalled for.”

“I will not ask again. We don’t help the undead here,” Kharis says, taking a slow step forward.

Astarion’s gaze catches on the rising sun etched into the axeblade. He sighs. “Rolan could’ve warned me you all worshipped Lathander. Well, then, I’ll be on my way.” He turns and leaves, the bell jangling in the silence that falls.

Liv turns to Kharis in confusion. “I thought we helped everyone.” She likes working for Kharis, but they both know that she’s overqualified to work in an alchemy shop. Now that she’s free from her parents, she’s been looking for a project or piece of scholarship she can use to get the hells out of Baldur’s Gate. Her family poisoned every last one of her connections when she left home, and none of the academies would even touch her. She’d genuinely like to help Astarion if she can, but even if she can’t, she’s not sure any researcher has ever worked this closely with a vampire. It’s sure to at least get her in the door somewhere.

Kharis lowers his axe. “Lathander teaches that all undead must be destroyed. I’m not interested in killing him, but well, I don’t have to help him either.”

Kharis rarely talks about his religious convictions, but Liv’s gotten the sense that they were acquired later in life and that he didn’t grow up in worship. She wants to bring up the questionable coincidence of strange blood and vampires calling all within the same tenday, but she knows it’s a losing battle. Kharis is stubborn and once his mind is made up, there’s no talking him out of it.

“I’ll finish up out here. Why don’t you grab us some dinner from Hattie’s?” Kharis suggests with an air of apology. Hattie is a giant of a half-orc who runs a food stall down the block, and after Kharis healed some bad burns for him, he gives them a steep discount.

“Won’t Wynn be upset you’re skipping dinner with him?” she asks.

“He’s working late. I’ll eat dinner with you, and then head home.”

Liv doesn’t argue the point because there’s an opportunity here. If she leaves now she might still catch Astarion on the street. Kharis won’t help, and that’s fine because he has his beliefs, but he didn’t forbid her from doing a damn thing. She’s the one who lives above the shop. Astarion could come by at night and she could help him, and Kharis wouldn’t be any the wiser.

“I’ll be back,” she smiles and then ducks out the shop door.

Astarion hasn’t made it far, but she still hurries down the street before calling his name, worried that somehow Kharis might be watching. When he hears his name, he pauses before turning, his face a mixture of surprise and disdain.

“I assure you I got the message; I won’t be back,” he says, voice tired.

“I’m sorry about Kharis. I didn’t realize just how…unyielding his beliefs were,” she says, closing the distance. It’s a pretty night, the moon is high in the sky, casting Astarion in moon-touched silver. “I have no such convictions. I’d still like to hear your problem.”

He looms over her, silver hair glinting as he cocks his head. His crimson eyes narrow, and she is reminded that she has chased a vampire down a darkened street. Alone. This close, there’s something preternaturally still about him, and she’s unsure how she didn’t immediately realize what he was.

“I’d like to find a cure for my condition .”

A cure for vampirism? That sounds more than impossible. But if she managed it? Well, that would be an accomplishment even her parents couldn’t ignore. She doesn’t want to give him hope where there is none, but she wants this. “I could try.”

“Really? I assume not out of the goodness of your heart. What do you want?”

She doesn’t want to tell him about her family, about the thorny complicated pieces of it. So she settles for something smaller, more immediate. “We’ve been treating people with a blood sickness, and then you come knocking. It can’t be a coincidence. I want some of your blood.”

He laughs, fangs flashing as he steps near. The angles of him are just this side of wrong, too sharp. There is a sense of otherness about him, but she is not afraid. “Darling, that’s not how this typically works.”

She doesn’t want him to know just how much she wants to work on his problem, so she shrugs and turns away. “Well, good luck then.”

“I didn’t say no.”

She glances over her shoulder, doing her best not to smile in victory. “Come back in an hour then.”

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x liv #eldritch horror au #check the tw on ao3 besties #this is a bit different from my usual #what moves in the dark #slothquisitorwrites

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ridestomars · 2 years

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angelbaby!!! need fairy!reader healing eddie after he gets in a fight or smth!! just her soft small hand touching his face, all he can feel is warmth but his pain subsides !!!

💭 liv’s thoughts: wrennie and if i told you that i thought about this while writing my headcanon, like, reader healing eddie from the demobats bites.. i am..... suffering. this is longer than i intended it to be so yeah <3 not proofread obv

i feel like this would be the first time eddie keeps you waiting outside his window, which was heartbreaking for you because he never kept you waiting for anything. even though you felt slightly bad for being so, what do they call it? overdramatic, it was like you couldn't help it. maybe he got fed up with explaining everything to you or tired of your incoherent rambling. after watching nighttime fall over the trailer park, those bad thoughts already had consumed you whole, and you felt like a complete fool, twinkling there for nothing.

but then, you finally hear his heavy steps, shaking the whole trailer as he gets closer to his bedroom. and when your eyes finally meet his untamed head of hair, you sigh, relieved. and your heart can't help but flutter as his gaze falls directly on you as he takes his first step into his room. eddie looks... weird. something was wrong with his left eye, which looked much puffier and red than what would be considered normal, and his nose was strangely crooked, with a red liquid coming out of his nostrils. but you can tell that he doesn't care about how he looks when he opens up his window and hold out his hand, inviting you in. eddie looks at you with a confused look on his face.

"why are you glittery?" his voice sounds much more nasal than normal like there's something clogging his nose. as he looks down at his own hand, he notices that it is covered in golden glitter, and his heart breaks a bit when he notices that you've spread glitter all around his room.

"you okay?" you ignore his question in favor of your own curiosity. you do that a lot to him, but now your words carry a worried tone that he wasn't very used to.

you both sit down at his bed, taking your usual positions, mirroring each other, almost.

"yeah," he frantically nods, "it was just a bar fight. one of our five fans got mad that gareth couldn't play tonight and tried to beat the subsitute up, but i tried to intervene and it... didn't work out, as you can see".

"poor eddie", you quietly muttered, upset by the whole situation, and even more for seeing eddie so hurt. those bruises were ugly, and that's coming from someone who's never seen one before. "can i t-touch?"

you lifted your hand up, slowly motioning to his eye.

"sure." he accepted it without thinking twice, even though he looked confused by your request. "just be careful, 'kay?"

eddie already had his eyes firmly shut, already nervous by the prospect of feeling that unbearable pain again, even hissing slightly as he felt your hand hovering over his eye. and yet, the pain never came; instead, he was welcomed by the warm touch of your hand, and was even able to see the gold light that glowed out of the contact of your fingertips with his skin. heat radiated out of your fingers, spreading to where he needed it the most, washing the pain away instantly. he felt your hand brushing against his eyelashes as it made its way to the bridge of his nose, bringing the same warmth there.

as you lifted your hand from his face, you were greeted by small spots of glitter on the exact size of your fingertips, exactly on the places you've touched. and you were happy to see that there were no more signs of those nasty bruises.

"all done", you gladly announced and he cautiously opened one of his eyes, staring back at you.

"what?"

"i healed you", gradually forming your sentence, you got to watch how his eyes widened in shock. and he immediately got up to look at his bedroom mirror.

and as he stood there, analyzing how his face looked, he was surprised to see his normal skin again, looking as good as new, like nothing ever happened to him. no sign of his dry blood or swelling. he gasped loudly, turning back to face you with wide eyes and the biggest smile on his face; so wide that you could see his dimples.

"this is the coolest thing ever!" he practically screamed as he walked back in your direction, opening his arms and engulfing your upper body in a big hug. eddie squeezed you so hard that you both fell back into his bed, still in each other's arms. that made you laugh hard. "thank you so much, tink!"

he kissed you on the cheek, slowly and sloppily as he got into a fit of laughter of his own.

"welcome", you answered like it was no big deal. yet, the smile you had on your face told him otherwise, especially with the way your head rested on his shoulder; looking up at him, absolutely enamored.

after a few seconds, eddie's curiosity got the best of him – you both had that in common; being so naturally curious that you couldn't keep your mouth shut before coming up with more questions.

"y'know... you still haven't answered me", he announced, gaining a confused look from you, "why are you all glittery?"

that was enough to make you sink your face in the space between his neck and shoulder, trying to avoid the question.

"you gotta answer me, tink. you made such a mess in my room."

with burning cheeks, you lift your head, but tried not to look into his eyes; you didn't need them making you even shyer. you took a deep breath before gradually answering the question, "i thought... y'didn't wanna see me and, um... got sad. glitter happens when i- i'm upset".

"you thought i was avoiding you?" his tone is full of surprise like this was the most absurd thing he's ever heard. and you couldn't help but feel your neck heat up in embarrassment as you shyly nod, "no, no need for that, tink. you know that won't ever happen, sweetheart... in fact, i thought you knew that i won't stop bugging you, like, ever".

that made you laugh, relieved.

"i like that".

"good, because i like it too".

LIKES, REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED! eddie masterlist | main masterlist | navigation ── hey! wanna talk? leave me a message after the beep. currently accepting requests for steve, nancy and eddie.

#creds to mav for the nickname!!#btw what do we think eddie would call fairy?#this is probably one of my favorite concepts ever #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fairy!reader #eddie x fairy!reader #fairy!reader #liv answers #wrennie! <3 #liv talks about eddie

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