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myosotisa · 4 months

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Chasm - e.m.

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

‖ summary: You're a researcher working at one of the fault lines throughout Hawkins, studying the closed and dormant gates to an alternate dimension. While you're alone on site, one of the gates wakes up again.

‖ tags: horror. i cannot stress this enough. this is unsettling and creepy and angsty with slight sexual tension. in line with the content in the show. post season 4, canon compliant. emetophobia warning. dubcon kissing. forced consumption (writing it made me gag just warning you. but im also kind of a baby so). no y/n, she/her pronouns used. flayed!eddie infects you. open ended ending. also steve is there sometimes. there's a ton of background lore that is only vaguely explained lol

‖ word count: 8.3k ‖ read on AO3 ‖ the song ‖

None of the rifts have shown any activity in over a year. Months and months of dead readings and no signals. Just waiting.

So what's a girl supposed to do when your EMF meter spikes alone on site? Sit around and wait for a crew to suit up and march their way over to the fault you were at? No fucking way. No chance.

You report in about the sudden spike in gamma radiation and tell them you're going to find the source. The project lead tells you to stay put and wait for assistance, as expected.

Your radiation gear was already halfway on. Oops, sorry boss, didn't hear you.

Handheld voltage meter in one hand, audio recorder in the other, and a pocket full of glow sticks, you push out past the plastic tarps and into the humid night air of Indiana summer.

The readings bring you west, toward the condemned trailer park and the "start" of your fault line. You crack a glow stick and drop it every few feet, marking your path. When the reading jumps up, you make a '+' sign with two at the spot before continuing forward. It was hard to say without exact measurements, but it seemed to be increasing at equal intervals. Like frozen waves on the surface of water.

"I'm approaching the Forest Hills sign," you say into the receiver, your own voice the only sound in the night air. "Current readings are…" You bring the meter up, using the light hanging from your neck to read the display. "Approaching 70 mv/m of high frequency radiation, roughly 31016 Hz. The next… 'Layer', for lack of a better term, will most likely breach Safe EMF levels, not considering the potential protection of the suit."

Lowering the meter again when it gives a beep of warning, you tuck it under your arm and crack another glow stick, leaving a '+' at the boundary to the trailer park. "I'll probably need treatment when I get back to base – as long as I grab a reading from the source and get out quickly, there won't be lasting damage. You hear that, Dr. Pierce?" You say through an over-confident huff, readjusting your arms to keep moving forward. "I'm well aware of the risks and take responsibility for my own actions."

The park itself looks like a bad dream at night – trailers abandoned hastily with doors still hung open and belongings scattered along the ground. Between the sudden fault opening and the bureau rushing in, the existing residents had been given very little time and grace to move into temporary housing across town. And it looked every bit like an entire community of people had just up and disappeared.

The suit you were in didn’t exactly help coordination, so you moved slowly and carefully over and around discarded objects along the dirt. Clothing, kitchen utensils, a quilt, a stack of newspapers, a child's toy. All left untouched for over a year.

Clearing the corner of one of the empty trailers, you catch sight of something strange.

“The fault itself has looked normal up to this point, no activity. But I can see the source now. It’s… It appears to be glowing red, fading in and out in a constant cycle.” Approaching even slower than before, you watch intently as the glow grows and then retreats again. Like waves on the shore.

The meter gives another shrill alarm – making you jump nearly out of your skin as you swat at it with the recorder. “Jesus Christ!” It quiets with a sinking pitch in your hand.

Before checking the reading, you quickly make another ‘+’ with glow sticks, digging them into the dirt a bit in an attempt to keep them from moving. Still down on one knee, you bring the meter up to your flashlight again.

“The meter is now reading 110 mv/m, same frequency. I’m roughly… 12 feet out from the source now. There’s a, uh, humming sound. Not sure if the recording is picking it up. And feeling pressure on my eardrums,” you explain into the device, eyes locked on the glow ahead. “I’ll continue to approach – see if I can get a closer reading. If it jumps above 150, I’ll fall back.”

Pushing to your feet again with a huff, you readjust your full load and press forward slowly. The closer you get to the source, you can see that the fault rapidly grows in size. The space between the edges looks large enough to fit a car as it rounds out at the end – a red pond in the ground.

“I can see the source clearer now. The glow is coming from within – there’s a…" You take a few steps closer, squinting to get a better look. "It appears to be an opaque membrane covering the space between. The glow is coming from behind it. Still cycling at an even rate, no change.”

The meter in your hand gives its shrillest warning yet, scaring you badly enough that it goes flying out of your hand; it hits the ground and flips closer to the edge. “Shit, fuck!”

You shuffle forward and drop down onto your shaky knees, grabbing for the meter as it continues to let out that grating alarm into the night air. Smacking it once more, the sound cuts off abruptly, giving you a chance to breathe.

Bringing it up to your flashlight, your eyes go wide as you lift the recorder again with your other trembling hand. “I’m nearly at the edge now, only a foot or so away – EMF reading 187 mv/m. Rapid increase from the last point.”

Movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention, your head snapping toward it.

“There’s… What the fuck?" You pause, tempted to rub your eyes to make sure you're really seeing what you're seeing.

"There’s movement below the membrane. It… It’s just a shadow, I can’t tell what it is, but the movement is rapid and the… The humming is getting louder.” Your heart is pounding now, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin beneath the suit.

“Going to retreat back to base,” you say, mostly attempting to reassure yourself as you slowly back away from the edge. “Final reading was 189 mv/m at 31016 Hz.”

There’s a crackle of static right before a thumb presses the pause button roughly, silencing the recorder in the center of the table.

“Is that all?” General Richard Highland asks, sounding impatient as he leans back in his conference chair. “That doesn’t tell us anything about what happened to her.”

“No, sir, there’s more.” Private Steve Harrington insists, inclining his head toward the dirty recorder he had delivered. He’s standing by the edge of the table at attention, hands clasped in front of him. “The recording keeps going.”

Dr. Pierce leans forward from his seat, giving the General a stiff look as he presses the play button again.

There’s a few more moments of static before the woman’s voice fades back in, layered beneath the hum of attempted interference.

“I’m definitely gonna need that rad treatment, Dr. Pierce. My badge is that warning color, even beneath the suit,” she continues with a shaky laugh, the sound of plastic shuffling behind it. “Hopefully I don’t lose my hair or something, but that’s… What?”

The table of scientists and military personnel sits in tense silence as her voice cuts out again. Half of them are on the edge of their seats, the others showing off a measured calm or disinterest. The general looks particularly annoyed and impatient, while Dr. Pierce looks almost like he wants to throw up.

“There’s… Something’s happening – I don’t–”

An abrasive crackle echoes out into the room, loud enough to send nearly everyone into a wince, before the recording cuts back in with the sound of screaming.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?! SHIT – I’ve gotta get–" A burst of interference sounds, followed by a metallic grating, like a ship groaning beneath the weight of the ocean.

Her panicked voice comes through, sounding further away than before. "FUCK! It – It’s got my ankle. Let go, you fucking piece of –! SHI–”

The recording cuts out to a buzzing hum.

No one moves for a few moments. Not until Private Harrington steps up to silence the recorder. “We found this recording, a lab issue EMF meter, and a broken flashlight at the edge of the fault." He explains, producing the other two items from the pack resting at his feet. "It was dormant when we got there – solid again.”

“So it just…” One of the other scientists starts, looking at Dr. Pierce uneasily.

“Dragged her through and went back to sleep.” Dr. Pierce confirms solemnly, his gaze locked on the dirty recorder.

“It’s never done this before?” A 2nd scientist, new to the project, asks. The others shake their heads. “So what do we do?”

All eyes turn to Dr. Pierce, who looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“We wait for it to wake up again.”

Wake up.

Come on, little lamb.

Wake up now.

Looks so peaceful.

But you’ve got to wake up.

…

WAKE UP.

There’s something wet on your face.

Feeling is slowly returning to your body, your eyes closed and too heavy to open. But there’s something dripping on your cheek – droplets running down toward your mouth. Sticking to your dry lips for a moment or two before falling off. You’re on the ground on your stomach, your cheek squished against something that feels like mud.

Your brain has yet to kick on fully as it tries to regain consciousness through a pounding ache, resonating with the throb of your left leg. It feels like you’re still wearing the rad suit, but the head piece is gone and it might be ripped in places – mud seeping in to touch your skin.

It’s almost like you’re sinking.

Eyelids fluttering open and you’re faced with a desaturated swamp. Like someone came through and sucked half the color out of it.

Lifting one arm is difficult, suctioned into the mud you’re laying in. Once you’ve freed it enough, you’re able to push off the sticky, wet sludge beneath you enough to roll over onto your back.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?”

You sit up with a start, your abdomen screaming in protest as your brain swims. Blinking through the blur in your eyes, you struggle to see anything at all in the dark – only momentarily granted sight by the flashes of red lightning overhead.

“Who’s there?” You call out into the dark, an attempt to sound brave, but your voice trembles as your eyes rapidly flit back and forth.

“Over here.”

The lightning flashes once more as you whip your head toward the voice – showing the silhouette of a man standing a few feet away. From what little you see, he’s tall and slender, head tilted to the side like he’s curious. There’s no chance you can see his face or anything else about him.

Until he’s in your face, crouched down right beside you – crossing the space and appearing in the span of a blink. It gives you a start, attempting to back up but getting caught up in the mud still suctioned to your lower half.

Your fear seems to bring a small smile to his face, plump lips tilting up at the corner. He looks so familiar… Long curly hair draped wetly over his shoulders, the sparse bangs across his forehead, and the soft turn of his nose. Curiosity gets the better of you as you lean in again slightly, squinting your eyes a bit more in the dark to see him better.

“I know you…” You insist softly, causing his eyebrows to raise slightly in surprise. “How do I know you?”

“No clue, because I’ve never met you in my life.” He replies, lips parting in a grin. “And I’m good with faces – ‘specially pretty ones.”

His response catches you off guard as your brain continues reeling and struggling to intake information, which is normally your forte. There’s a million questions on the tip of your tongue and you have no idea where to start.

“You’ll probably need to lose the suit if you want to get out of that shit,” he continues when you don’t respond, motioning to your stationary legs with a wave of his hand. And he’s probably right, with the way the mud beneath you is stuck tight to the shiny plastic. Your best hope is to try to use the suit as a stepping off point to get to stable ground.

“Where should I step once I pull out?” You ask, hoping he’ll understand your goal.

A blink and he’s gone again – another flash of red light placing his silhouette off to your left. “Think you can make it to here?” He responds, voice raised slightly and sounding like he’s teasing you or challenging you. It makes your competitive side flare up on instinct – a frustrated huff leaving your nose as you plan your escape.

Opening the front of the suit, you slip both arms out and let the upper half fall flat behind you. Pulling out both of your legs next, your butt sinks deeper into the ground, nearly sending you off balance as you quickly shift your weight forward onto your knees, using the suit as a stepping stone. It starts to sink, mud coming up over the edge and inching toward your knees, so you have to move fast.

Pushing to your feet makes it sink faster, wet sludge touching the side of your ankle just as you push off in a jump toward where the man was standing.

You land on the ankle that had been grasped by the tentacle, not realizing the throbbing meant it’d been twisted. It makes you cry out in pain and fall forward, directly into the man’s chest.

“Woah there!” He says in surprise, grasping onto your elbows to keep you sort of upright. Between the aching pain and the tears pressing at your eyes, you just barely manage to notice how cold and clammy he is – especially where his hands grip your bare biceps.

Rocketing back, you press your weight onto your good leg and put some distance between the two of you again, your dirty arms crossing over your tank top and smearing it with mud. “Sorry, my, uh, ankle…” You offer awkwardly, still not even sure who you’re talking to.

“Don’t worry about it, angel. You good?”

He actually sounds like he cares. Like he’s concerned for you. Who is he?

“I’ll be fine,” you insist stubbornly, swallowing down the lump of tears in your throat. Free from your precarious situation, at least partially, you struggle to figure out what to address first. “How are you doing that? Like… Teleporting? Or are you just moving really fast?”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “What–,” he disappears in a blink and then you feel a burst of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end, “this?”

You lurch forward before turning around to level him a glare. “Yes, that – don’t do that.”

His hands tuck into the front pockets of the leather jacket he’s wearing as he shrugs, looking quite pleased with himself. “Sorry, angel, didn’t mean to spook you.”

Then silence falls, both of you eyeing each other – you suspiciously and him curiously. The extended pause makes you think you aren’t going to be told how anytime soon.

A breeze kicks up, rustling the branches of the trees in the surrounding swampland and sending a shiver down your spine. Suit lost, you’re down to a tank top, jeans, and a pair of no slip shoes (which were required for people working in the field for some reason). You were dressed for the humid interior of the field site tent in summer and it appears that you have landed yourself in a place where that is not enough.

Taking advantage of the silence, you try to remember everything you can about your studies into the ‘gates’ from when they were open. Very little was known beside second hand accounts and old data – some of which may not even be accurate anymore given the nature of the fault lines. If there was anywhere to start, it would be trying to find the gate you’d been dragged through.

With any luck, you could go right back to your dimension.

But that didn’t account for him. The pale, wet, unsettling-yet-somehow-charming guy that was still staring right at you.

“How long have you been here? Do you know?” You question cautiously, not wanting to upset him in any way.

“That depends, what year is it?”

Your heart drops into your stomach, completely at odds with the continued grin on his face. It looks almost manic now – like every time he sets you off balance brings him great joy. Deciding you’d actually rather not know how long he’s been in here, you move on.

“Have you been alone this whole time? Or are there other people here?”

His grin spreads, like he’s in on a joke you’re not aware of. “I haven’t been alone, no.”

This piques your curiosity again, adjusting your weight on your good leg. “Do you have a community here? How many of you are there?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” He suggests, taking a step or two away from you, his hands still tucked into his pockets.

The idea is tempting, if only to learn more about what is going on here, but there’s something nagging at the back of your mind. Something you should be remembering. Something you’re missing. Plus, for all you know, this man does not have your best interests at heart.

“I should probably try to find the gate that brought me here,” you say, slightly regretfully. “See if I can cross back over.”

“Oh, right,” he responds, tapping his forehead with his palm like it should’ve been obvious. “Yeah, I can show you the way.”

This surprises you again, slight concern causing you to stand up straighter. “You can?”

“Sure thing, the closest one isn’t far,” he motions behind him with a tilt of his chin, taking another step back. “Come on.”

So you follow the strange man into the dark, limping after him on your twisted ankle. The mud starts to dry on your skin, hair, and clothing – crusting over and hardening in places. You pick at pieces as you walk, letting the chunks and flakes fall to the ground behind you. From what little you can see, there are vines everywhere along the ground, weaving between tree trunks and layering over each other in place. The man seems to step over them – and you can’t tell if it’s on purpose or a coincidence – but you make a habit of not touching the vines just in case.

It’s unsettlingly quiet here. Every once in a while you’ll hear what sounds like an animal – a howl, a chittering, the thump of feet on the earth. But they are few and far between, leaving mostly just the rush of wind through the trees and a sort of muffled silence, pressure on your ears.

Your paranoia kicks up as the quiet continues, suspiciously eyeing the back of your escort as he leads you forward. For all you knew, he wasn’t leading you anywhere near the gate. You have no reason to trust him beyond the fact that he helped you get out of the sludge you woke up in. He was in this dimension after all, clearly familiar with it. That had to be a red flag if anything, given what little you actually knew about it.

So much was classified beyond your reach – the bureau was very specific with what you were allowed to read and know and what you weren’t. Given the dormant nature of the fault lines, it hadn’t been necessary for you to learn too much about the dimension on the other side. Most of what you studied and knew was about the gates themselves.

Even with the bureau being as paranoid and obsessive as it was – a lowly field researcher getting dragged to the other side and needing to survive hadn’t seemed to be on their radar.

The pessimistic part of you not-so-helpfully supplies that was probably just because they weren't very interested in your survival at all. They’d probably prefer it if you died here. If anything, your exposure to the other side made you more of a liability.

Maybe one they could experiment on, if you got lucky and survived.

This train of thinking isn’t helping anything. You could worry about what your life would become if you made it out.

Walking up to the lifeless and solid gate turns that into a very tentative if.

“Looks like the door’s shut tight,” Eddie offers vaguely, rocking back and forth on his heels as you circle the hole in the ground, like seeing a new angle will change something about it.

The opening looks largely the same as the other side, in the center of the abandoned trailer park with the forest surrounding. Your arms are covered in goosebumps as the breeze hits harder in the open field, no longer buffered by trees on all sides. On the bright side, it is slightly better lit here and you can see your companion a bit clearer now.

“Do you know how these things work? Like how and why it opens and shuts?” You ask desperately, looking at him from the other side of the crevice.

The corner of his mouth tilts up minutely, his shoulders shrugging. “Yes and no.”

The scowl returns to your face, frustration mounting as another shiver of cold racks your body. “Are you intentionally being unhelpful? Or are you just an idiot?”

His lips part in a surprised ‘o’, his eyebrows raising like he’s impressed. “That hurts, angel. I’m no idiot, and I think I’ve been plenty helpful. After all… I could’ve just left you to drown out there. Or maybe led you into a trap. Or left you for the dogs.” He taunts, returning to a toothy grin. The question of if he has your well being in mind gets more and more clear with a resounding no.

A fearful jolt runs down your spine as you stare him down, trying not to let your fear show. Grappling tightly to your anger, you taunt back, “Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you?”

A blink and he’s gone.

Your entire body goes on alert, tensing for attack as your heart starts to pound against your ribs. Eyes searching the immediate area in front of you come up empty. He’s either behind you or far enough you can’t see him in the low light. You never got an answer as to whether he’s moving quickly or teleporting or exactly how far he can get in the time you blinked.

He’s either long gone or… Trying to surprise you.

As soon as you have the thought, the hair on the back of your neck stands up – like some kind of unconscious sense of danger.

You turn in a quick 180 and he’s right there. Only a foot away from you with a sadistic sort of smile on his face. Your breath catches in your chest as it feels like a fist grabs tightly to your heart, suddenly much more terrified of the man in front of you.

That appears to be the way he prefers it.

“I think we can help each other.”

You blink at him, muscles pulled taut and ready to bolt as you try to figure out what the fuck he’s doing and what the fuck he wants. “What?” You question, your voice coming out a bit breathy and scared.

“I said, I think we can help each other,” he repeats calmly. “You help me, and I can help you get back home.”

“Why– What– H–how could I possibly help you?” You sputter, trying not to sound as terrified and confused as you feel.

His grin turns cheeky again, slightly less unsettling than it was a moment ago. “It won’t take much, angel, scout’s honor.” He says as he lays a hand over his chest. “You help me, then you’re free to crawl right back over to the other side and continue your life.”

Disbelief and uncertainty nags at you as you fidget in your spot, wanting desperately to put some more distance between the two of you but nervous to offend him. “So you can open the gate? You just want something in return?”

He shakes his head emphatically, appearing to be genuine in his denial. “I can’t but I know who can. They opened it before you were brought over.”

“And they would open it again? Just because you asked?” You question suspiciously, studying his facial expression for a sign that he’s pulling your leg again.

“Let’s just say that me and them have similar goals and leave it at that.”

There are 100 more questions on the tip of your tongue, but with the potential of getting back to your own dimension on the table, you’re reluctant to press too hard. He seems to recognize the battle you’re fighting with yourself as he laughs to himself. “You know what they say about curiosity, angel.”

An annoyed exhale punches out of your nose. “And I assume in this case that I’m the cat.”

“Bingo!” He says happily, tapping the end of his nose with his index finger. “So what do you say?”

There is so much you want to say. So many questions you want to ask. So much more info you need. But beggars can’t be choosers, you suppose.

“What would I need to do?”

His smile goes sharp again. “So glad you asked. I’d just need a kiss.”

A beat of silence. Then your expression drops in disbelief and disappointment. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Dead serious,” he insists, laying his hand on his chest again as he regards you intently. “And it’s gotta be real – gotta kiss me like you mean it. None of those little pecks you give on the cheek.”

A strange swirl of intrigue and revulsion mixes together in your gut as you continue waiting for the punchline. The ‘just kidding, your face was priceless’. But it doesn’t come.

“Is this some kind of sick joke? Been so lonely out here that you have to twist the arm of a desperate girl just to get some–”

“Hey.” He interrupts, his tone intense and cold. It shuts you up immediately, though you can’t say why. “Don’t be mean, angel. This isn’t just me trying to take advantage of you. It has a real purpose.”

The dubious look you give him makes him crack another small smile. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’m telling you the truth.”

“And am I allowed to know what this purpose is?”

He shakes his head again, displacing the curls draped over his shoulders that still appear to have not dried at all. “I’ll tell you when it’s done, how about that?” He offers, using your curiosity against you to try to sweeten the deal.

Really, it’s a no brainer. Sure, he’s a strange person that lives in an alternate dimension that has some strange abilities. Sure, you know next to nothing about him despite that itch in the back of your head telling you that you know him somehow. And sure, this could be a huge mistake. But having to kiss this admittedly-attractive dude just to get out of this nightmare dimension and get back home? The choice is simple.

Which only makes you more certain there’s a catch you aren’t seeing.

“Fine. If you swear I’ll be able to go home, then I’ll do it.”

His expression brightens excitedly, a sort of childlike joy appearing on his face. It’s different from any of the expressions you’ve seen on him so far – like genuine surprise. “You will?”

“Yeah, sure.” You reply, trying to brush it off as nothing. “Not like I have a lot of other options here.”

His excitement fades slightly, though he still looks pleased with the outcome. “Glad you made the right decision.”

An unsettling silence falls as the two of you study each other once more, now much closer than the last time. Fear and anticipation builds steadily as you find yourself glancing down at his lips – realizing you’re about to know what they feel like on your own.

“Do we, uh,” you pause to clear your throat as you awkwardly break the silence. “Do we do it now? Or… What?”

He takes a step closer, entering your personal space. His voice is lower, stickier, and richer when he responds. “Do you wanna do it now, angel?”

You suddenly feel like a fly stuck in a honey trap – eyes widening as you struggle between wanting to further close the distance and to run away from him. “Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose?” Though you meant it to be nonchalant, it comes out as a nervous question.

The uncertainty in your voice only seems to make the man crack another amused smile. “I suppose so,” he replies softly, gently teasing you as he gets even just a little bit closer. You can feel your heart pounding in your neck, constantly flipping back and forth between fear, interest, nerves, and embarrassment. Looking at you through slightly lowered eyelids, he leans in toward you. Close enough you can feel the exhale of his breath on your face.

“Kiss me like you mean it, angel.” He reminds you quietly, the tip of his nose nudging against yours as your eyelids flutter closed instinctively. “Don’t forget.”

Then his lips are pressing to yours. You make a small noise of surprise, both in that you weren’t sure if he was actually going to do it and because he’s so cold. But his lips are plush and soft as he places your lower lip between his own. As promised, you kiss him back, trying not to think about how strange it feels that he’s cold and the situation you’re in – focusing on the gentle pressure of him as he steps even closer and brings his hand up to cradle your jaw.

It’s gentle and sweet as you find yourself starting to forget the reality of it all. Your hands find the edges of his leather jacket, tugging him closer as he hums happily. His other hand finds your waist – cold through the thin fabric of your tank top.

Teeth nip lightly at your lower lip and you make another small noise of surprise, a flash of heat through your chest at the pleasant feeling. It distracts you further – not even questioning the adventurous flick of his tongue against your mouth. You part your lips on instinct; his hand flexing happily against your jaw as he tests the waters to run his tongue along yours.

You return the gesture, encouraging the touch as you breathe heavily through your nose. You’re running low on air and will need to part to breathe soon. You’re surprised to find that you aren’t really sure that you want to stop to do so.

He seems to recognize the impending need too; his lips pressing against yours more insistently, like he’s getting what he can before it ends. His tongue ventures past your lips one more time, pressing further than he had before. Is… Is his tongue longer than normal?

In the same moment that he pulls away from you, the hand on your jaw claps over your mouth to keep it shut. And there’s something in your mouth.

There’s something moving in your mouth.

You make a high pitched noise of panic as your eyes double in size, looking at him in terror while he holds you tightly to his front and keeps his hand firmly over your mouth. “Ah, ah, angel. You gotta swallow it.” He coos, his palm clammy and cold against your slick lips.

You shake your head as well as you can with his grip, making noises of protest as you struggle to keep the smooth, wiggling object from sliding down your throat. Your hands grab at his wrist and forearm, trying to pull him off, but his grip is too strong. Begging him with your eyes, sharp and stuttered breaths coming out of your nose as you hyperventilate, he just gives you a sad smile. “It’s not that bad, I promise. Just gotta swallow and it’ll be over – don’t make me plug your nose.”

Painful tears poke out of your eyes and start to descend down your cheeks, nails digging into his skin to try and get him off. It seems not to affect him at all, his other hand giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay. This is it – you won’t have to do anything else. Come on, angel. You can do it. Just swallow for me.”

His words of encouragement make your head spin in confusion, panic mounting as the outcome seems inevitable. More tears pour down your cheeks as you choke on a sob, inadvertently allowing the object to slide down your throat.

“There we go,” he sighs in relief, grip on your face loosening, “Good girl.”

Somehow he knew that you’d swallowed it because he releases you right as you start to cough roughly, stumbling away from him and bending forward. You can still feel the strange coating from the creature on your tongue and down your esophagus – thick and wrong as you cough and gag.

Get it out, get it out, get it out, GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT!!

“What was– How do I– I’ve gotta–” You stammer, stumbling over your words as you tremble wildly and gag, your body responding to your panic by wanting to reject the new contents of your stomach.

He appears right beside you again, gripping both of your wrists with his hands as he forces you upright. “Don’t throw it up.” His voice is a command, his expression intense. “If you throw it up, I’ll have to force feed you another one. And trust me, it’s way less fun the 2nd time.”

Tears continue to pour from your eyes as you rapidly shake your head. “What was– What is– Why are you doing this? What was that thing?”

“Calm down, angel, please calm down,” he begs, starting to look distressed himself. “It’s gonna be okay, I swear, it’s gonna be fine. You’re a part of something bigger now. It’s all going to be okay.”

You try to pull out of his grip on your wrists, alternating between yanking back and rushing forward to push him away. “What the fuck does that mean?! What have you done to me?!” You shout through your tears, white hot panic spreading through your body. “It’s not too late – I can still, I can still throw it up, I can…”

He drags you in, wrapping you up in a tight bear hug with your arms trapped between the two of you. He shushes you, standing steady against your weakening struggling against him. “Shhh, shh, it’s alright, angel. It’s okay. You’re gonna get to go home, okay? We’re gonna get to go home.”

“Sir, we’ve got activity.”

Dr. Pierce pushes out of his desk chair fast enough to make his head spin – lack of sleep and too much coffee weakening him beyond measure. He’s barely left the main building since you went missing.

Since you were dragged through.

There have been constant patrols of the fault line you disappeared into, hoping for any sign of it waking up again. It was on his order and against the wishes of General Highland. She’s a level 1 researcher. She knew the risks. It’s not worth the cost.

But you didn’t know the risks, not really. Pierce knows he didn’t do enough to prepare you, to warn you. He didn’t do enough to protect you.

This is his fault.

He’s not the only one buzzing with anticipation as he exits his darkened office; several other scientists and field agents are reacting to the news of activity with a rush. Not everyone will be allowed to go to the site, as it would be a madhouse, but several live cameras and other surveillance equipment have been set up in the area. At least a quarter of the bureau across the country will be intently watching whatever happens next.

Pierce says nothing as he makes his way for the garage and the people he passes know better than to approach him now. He can still feel their eyes – judgemental, curious, concerned. He’s felt their eyes for days.

There are several SUVs already prepared by the time he arrives, most already full of people who were approved to be on site in the case of reactivation. He recognizes the soldier standing by waiting for him as Private Steve Harrington, the same man who brought in the recorder originally. He’s one of the few people at the bureau with prior knowledge of the other dimension despite his low rank.

“Sir,” he greets with a respectful head dip, opening the backdoor of the SUV for Pierce as he approaches. Pierce returns the gesture before climbing into the backseat, sliding across the bench to the opposite side. Steve gets in after him, his bulky gear forcing him to sit far forward on the bucket seat as he slams the door closed behind him.

It only takes another minute or so before the caravan lurches and begins to move, following after the identical black SUV in front of it.

The walkie-talkie on Steve’s shoulder kicks to life quietly, a short and concise signal coming through that Pierce doesn’t understand. The exhausted scientist looks over curiously as Steve murmurs an, “Affirmative,” into the device before clicking it off.

“Any news from the fault?”

Steve glances over, surprised to be addressed, before he turns back to look out the front windshield. “Nothing yet, sir.”

Pierce keeps an eye on the soldier as they travel – watching with intrigue as the man continuously searches the vehicle’s surroundings, like he’s expecting an attack.

“You seem on edge, Steve.” He straightens in response, looking even more uncomfortable at being referred to by his first name. “Is it because the gate is active?”

A muscle in his jaw rolling with tension, Steve keeps his gaze firmly forward as he responds. “It doesn’t supply a good feeling, that’s for sure.”

“And yet you still volunteered for the theoretical strike team to go through?” Pierce wonders aloud, phrasing it like a question.

There’s a tense moment of silence before the private answers. “At least I already know what to expect on the other side.”

The two don’t interact again for the reminder of the drive.

The SUVs all pull into the vacant field beside the field tent in a line, the leader of the patrol team coming out to meet the first vehicle. Pierce watches General Highland step out of it and start to converse with the uniformed woman. By the time he makes it way over, he seems to be catching the tail end of the conversation.

“We have each unit spread out in even intervals along the fault; so far there has been no change since it first activated.”

“And they all have their protective equipment on, I presume?” Dr. Pierce cuts in, surprising the patrol leader and earning an annoyed look from General Highland.

“Yes sir,” she responds with a head nod. “I was just telling the general that they’re all outfitted with gear to protect them from the worst of the radiation, but it would still do good to regularly swap out the unit in the center, where the worst of it is.”

Pierce agrees with a stiff nod, not waiting to hear the general disagree before he turns to look back. As he expected, Private Harrington trailed him over, waiting a respectful distance away as to not eavesdrop. “Harrington.”

Steve turns at the call, jogging over to Pierce. “Sir.”

“Suit up. You’re coming with me to the source.”

“Yes sir.”

The pair of them push into the field tent, currently staffed with 15 more people than usual. There are researchers and scientists bent over displays and documenting readings, soldiers standing by with weapons, field agents watching over the researchers shoulders. Pierce walks past all of them, parting the way as he does, and starts to strip off his lab coat while pulling a radiation suit off the rack. Steve follows suit, removing a majority of his gear to reequip on top of the plastic suit.

The buzz of excited chatter is nearly grating on Pierce’s ears as he goes through the annoying process of putting on the PPE. But he misses it when it suddenly cuts off, directly after one of the researchers announces, “We’ve got a spike in activity!”

Pierce looks over at Steve, who is still clipping things to his belt again. “We’ve gotta move.”

“Yes sir,” Steve repeats once more, gathering the bare necessities in his arms to try to equip as they move. The pair of them push out the other side of the tent and set into a jog towards what used to be Forest Hills Trailer Park.

They pass a few pairs of outfitted people as they move – soldiers patrolling and scientists maintaining the monitoring equipment placed along the fault. None of them interact as the pair jogs past, heading for the end of the fault line. They can see a small group ahead – presumably gathered closer to where the spike in activity happened.

“Make some room!” Steve barks out as they approach, the gathered group moving further away from the fault line in response. Some look back to see who is coming while others keep their eyes locked on the glowing source beyond.

“Keep at least 10 feet back from the fault at all times,” Pierce orders the group as they pass. “Stay in pairs, don’t go off on your own. We have very little idea what we’re dealing with here, but we have reason to believe there are things that will try to drag you through the gate. If something comes out, fall back and call out. Don’t let your partner get grabbed.”

There is some murmuring in response, but no one openly disregards the order, starting to pair off as a few people move further back along the fault line. Pierce approaches a pair hunched over a meter near the source, keeping his eyes on the glowing red below. “What are we looking at?”

“It’s fluctuating slightly; was 116 mv/m at 31016 Hz at peak.” The researcher responds, keeping a close eye on the EMF before them. “Nothing close to the reported 189 mv/m. We might not be looking at full activation. Or maybe it’s building up, it’s hard to say.”

“Wait,” Steve cuts in, holding a hand out for the researcher to pause. “Do you hear that?”

They all fall silent, listening closely.

Then Pierce hears it – the hum from the recording. The one you were talking about hearing.

The scientist gives him a nod of agreement before looking back to the researcher. “Any sign of movement from the other side?”

“Not that we can tell from here,” the field agent answers for them. “We’ve been following the guidelines to stay back so it’s hard to catch anything from here.”

“Radio? Portable EMF?” Dr. Pierce asks, and the field agent presents both. He takes them and then looks back at Steve. “We’re moving up.”

Even behind the protection of the face shield, Pierce can see the tension in his expression. Regardless, the private still answers with a confident, “Yes sir.”

Keeping the meter within eyesight, the two push ahead, closer to the large opening at the source. Pierce watches it tick up with each step closer, crossing the 150 mark as they get within 5 feet of the edge. Looking out across the opening, the glowing membrane pulses and hums with energy, louder and louder as they approach.

There’s very little movement on the other side, but every once in a while Pierce catches a glimpse of a dark shadow moving beyond.

“Never gets any less unsettling to look at,” Steve murmurs beside him, shifting his weight between his feet as he keeps his eyes locked on the unbroken membrane.

“Dr. Pierce, we’ve got another spike!” The researcher calls from behind, voice sounding a bit concerned. “We’re edging 170 now.”

The humming increases steadily along with a slight vibration in the ground beneath their feet. Steve steps up beside Pierce, a hand out like he’s ready to drag him back from the edge, as Pierce stares into the membrane intensely.

Come on. Come on. Come back through. Just be alive. Come on. Please be alive.

A more defined shadow moves along the edge closest to the trailer and doesn’t pull back. “We’ve got movement!” Steve calls back, alerting the nearby units as Pierce’s hand flies out to hush him. They both watch with a certain level of horrified fascination as the shadow grows defined enough to make that section of the membrane appear black before it begins to tear.

A bare hand extends out of the membrane, blindly grasping for the nearby edge. Steve twitches forward, like he wants to go and help them, but Pierce holds him back wordlessly, leaving them both standing perfectly still as another hand appears and grabs onto the edge.

The person uses the grip on the edge to pull themselves through – a woman in a filthy tank top and jeans struggling to pull herself onto the flat ground. As soon as she is through, she quickly turns around on her knees and reaches back through the membrane.

You’re… You’re actually alive.

Several soldiers approach slowly with their rifles out, aiming at you as you take hold of someone else’s hand and start to pull them through. A pale man with long, messy hair appears from the other side, holding on tightly to you as you help him reorient to the change in perspective. “No way…” Steve whispers, standing frozen as he watches them start to sit up and look around.

“Dr. Pierce!” You call happily once you spot him, waving at him like you’re excited to see him. There’s a huge smile on your face, a stark contrast to your utterly disheveled appearance. “I made it! I’m back!”

The soldiers continue to keep their weapons trained on the newcomers, watching for some sign of aggression. You slowly get to your feet, offering your hand to your companion and helping him up too. Steve takes a few mindless steps towards them, Dr. Pierce no longer stopping him. “Eddie?” He calls uncertainly, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Eddie, is that you?”

The man’s head perks up, looking in Steve’s direction. “Harrington?” He replies, sounding just as uncertain and confused. “Is that you in there?”

“Eddie, as in Eddie Munson?” Dr. Pierce asks Steve, still unmoving as he stares at you, seemingly unharmed.

“Yeah…” Steve breathes out, still looking stunned. “And he doesn’t look like he’s aged a day.”

You and Eddie start to walk over when a soldier barks at you to stay back, both of you nervously putting your hands up as you look between the armed soldiers, Steve, and Pierce.

“It’s me, Dr. Pierce. It’s really me.” You insist, looking at him pleadingly. “And this is Eddie, he helped me find my way back. He saved me.” You add, motioning to the man beside you. The two of you are close together; you stand slightly in front of Eddie, like you’re protecting him. Eddie just offers a sheepish smile and a shrug, like it was no big deal.

“Sir? What do we do?” One of the soldiers asks, glancing in Dr. Pierce’s direction.

The two of you look exhausted, dirty, hungry, but… Harmless. No worse for wear despite the time spent on the other side.

“Bring them in.” Pierce orders. “No excessive force. They’ve been through a lot.”

The soldiers nod, lowering their weapons and urging you both to come forward. You look particularly relieved, while Eddie appears mostly unphased by all of it.

“Thank god, I need a shower so badly.” You announce with a happy laugh, walking toward them as you shake your head and make a disgusted face. “No one smell me, I’m begging you.”

If anyone finds your behavior unsettling or strange, they don’t say so. Everyone mostly looks relieved it didn’t turn into some kind of fight. While there is something off about how you’re acting, Dr. Pierce can’t find it in himself to feel anything besides relief at your return.

Steve stands motionless and tense as Eddie approaches, looking every bit like he’s seen a ghost. There is no excitement, no relief, no… Trust. Like this is all a bad dream and he just wants to wake up.

Just before you and Eddie pass the two of them, you flash another excited smile. “And not a moment too soon – I’m so thirsty.” You look over at Eddie, who nods in agreement, before you continue walking toward the field tent in the distance, flanked on either side by armed soldiers.

Eddie stops by Steve, giving him a tilted smile. “Hey Harrington, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same to you,” Steve replies, his tone apprehensive and flat. If Eddie catches on, he doesn’t show it, just continuing to show that same smile – like he knows something you don’t.

“What can I say?” He offers with a shrug and a wink before he continues to trail after you and toward the growing crowd beyond. “It’s good to be back.”

thanks for reading, please let me know if you liked it!!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson oneshot #flayed!eddie munson #kas!eddie #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #posting a oneshot that barely explains an entire fic universe you've never told anyone about :)#myos ideas #myo4munson

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buckactuallys · 26 days

Note

hi pia i'm thinking about heart eyes diaz again so "15. watching their oblivious s/o lovingly" spoke to me

frida my love! so true, it fits perfectly <3

[read on ao3]

When Bobby offered Eddie the spot on the 118, he fully intended for him to become Buck’s partner on the job. He picked him specifically for that, feeling like Eddie could be exactly the kind of person Buck needed to become the amazing firefighter he had the potential to be.

He also hoped they’d get along on a personal level too, obviously – his entire team is built on that hope. Eddie was supposed to fit with all of them, but Buck most of all.

Now, as he’s standing in the firehouse kitchen with a clear view of Eddie at the table, his chin resting on his hand as he watches Buck explaining something to Hen with big gestures across from him, Bobby can’t help but think that this all worked out much better than he could ever have hoped.

They’ve had their ups and downs – Buck and Eddie, yes, but all of them, really – but if that time a year or two where their team was splintering was good for anything, it was making it clear just how lucky they are to be working with this team. How lucky they are to have this family, at work and outside of it.

Eddie’s face is soft, almost tender, as he looks at Buck, who’s still focused on Hen.

It gives Bobby pause.

These two have had a special connection from nearly the beginning on, except for that short period where Buck’s irrational fear of being replaced translated to hostility. Since then, Bobby has watched them become friends, then best friends very quickly, and eventually, they grew into their own little family unit within their bigger family.

He’s aware of this, aware of how important they are to each other. How could he not? He’s seen them go through the worst and the best times together, seen them support each other, seen them grieve for each other.

He’s even seen this expression on Eddie’s face before, usually in flashes or from far away. Never as open and unguarded, so obviously full of love, without caring who sees it.

Bobby turns back to the food he’s preparing and can’t help thinking that maybe he’s missed one more layer of it after all.

So when, two weeks later, Bobby gets another up close look at the look on Eddie’s face while Buck is stumbling his way through an explanation for why they need disclosure of relationship forms, he’s not completely surprised.

“So we, uh, wanted to talk to you because– You see, Eddie and I, we sort of, um, realized recently,” Buck stammers, and all the while, Eddie smiles at the side of his face like he’s the best thing he’s ever seen. “That what we f-feel for each other, is, um–”

“Buck,” Bobby interrupts him gently. “Are you trying to tell me that the two of you are in a relationship?”

“Yes, he is,” Eddie says, and he’s still smiling at Buck, who doesn’t seem to have noticed. “We are.”

At that, Buck turns towards him and his face melts into a smile like he can’t help it.

“Yeah,” he says, without looking away from Eddie.

Bobby watches them smile at each other for a minute, fondly, but eventually, he clears his throat.

Eddie blinks and turns to him first. “Um, sorry. So, what forms do we have to fill out? And is there anything else we need to do?”

“We– We know there’s a married couple working the same shift at the 139, so we’re good, right? We can keep working together?” Buck asks worriedly.

“I don’t see why not,” Bobby says. “I’ve got a whole stack of forms I can give you to take home with you, you can bring them back signed on your next shift. Apart from that, it’s up to my recommendation. If I find that you can’t work together with appropriate professionalism anymore, then I can recommend that one of you is moved to another station. But you’re not in the same chain of command and I assume that your feelings at least aren’t all that new, are they?”

“They’re not,” both of them say at almost the same time, then smile at each other again.

“Then I see no reason why you shouldn’t work just as well together now that you’re making it official,” Bobby says, and finally lets the captain act drop with a smile. “So you’re happy?”

“Yeah,” Buck breathes. “Yeah, Bobby, we’re so happy.”

Eddie reaches for his hand and Buck grips it tightly.

“Disgustingly so, if you believe Christopher,” Eddie grins, and Bobby laughs.

“Well, I’m really happy for you. You both deserve happiness, and looking at you right now – well, it just makes sense that you found it with each other.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Eddie says, eyes bright.

Bobby remembers him sitting in front of him like this, but alone, adrift, scared. He remembers how worried he was that he’d never be happy.

And Buck – how lost he used to feel, never aware of how loved he already was by the people in his life, always chasing after the idea he’d built up in his head.

Well, it kind of makes Bobby want to congratulate himself for pairing these two up.

A year later, while Bobby is recounting the story of Buck and Eddie from his view at their wedding reception, his eyes keep straying to the grooms.

Buck is watching him with teary eyes and a wobbly smile that makes Bobby choke up a little, but Eddie is looking at Buck. He’s wearing that same tender, lovesick expression Bobby has seen on his face so many times by now, and he finds himself hoping that the wedding photographer will capture it in one of their photos, because he’d like Buck to get a good look at it.

He knows that Buck knows that Eddie loves him, but knowing Buck, it wouldn’t hurt for him to see photographic evidence of the naked adoration on his new husband’s face.

But he shouldn’t have worried, because when Buck turns to look at Eddie, his expression doesn’t waver at all. Buck doesn’t seem surprised to see it, either, so clearly he’s not as oblivious as Bobby may have thought.

Good, he thinks. Everything is exactly as it’s supposed to be, and better than he ever could have hoped.

He smiles and lifts his glass to finish his toast. “To Buck and Eddie. May you always look at each other the way you are right now.”

#thanks for the prompt <3 #buddie #911fic #911 #buddie fic #ask #leothil #frida tag #pia writes

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

Text

Snowy morning

requested: so @lillithathecat left a comment saying that she wanted a little something something with Cassy on the snowy day so here we go.

a/n Also, be gentle with me I've never written for this man before.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"I refuse to leave this sanctuary," you laugh a little at your sleepy mate, who's inching ever closer to you under the covers. Still more than sleepy and not ready to face the day ahead. Cassian was big on morning cuddles. At the beginning of your relationship, he pretended that he hated things like this. After all, he was a manly man. Yet, it didn't take much work from your side to convince him that being a little marshmallow was way more fun. Now he craved your touch more than he craved food, and that in itself was a big statement to make. If he had the morning off or his day was due to start an hour later, you could find him in bed without needing to look anywhere else.

"It's chilly this morning", your fingers were tangled in between Cassian's messy morning hair as he hummed with every tiny pull and scratch to his scalp that you made. The winter was slowly approaching Velaris. And although it hadn't snowed yet, last night, on your way home from the pub, you could swear you saw a tiny little snowflake. Cassian, of course, made fun of you when you started squealing in excitement. But you craved that icy feeling, that cold that would pick at your nose, and most importantly, the snow that would crunch beneath your feet. "Perhaps it finally snowed," you muttered to yourself as your gaze fell onto the window, which was unfortunately blocked by blinds. Not letting you peek outside. "Should I put on a fire?", you barely managed to make out what your mate was saying as his face was long gone in the crook of your neck. "That would require you to leave the sanctuary," you teased him back playfully, and his arms instantly tightened around your torso.

"Yeah, take that back. Might die if I unwrap my arms from around you", one of his hands blindly searched for your hand and once he gets a hold of it, Cassian brings it back to his hair and you can't help but laugh a little once again, "Such a drama queen". You continue to massage his scalp. His warmth and the extra layer of heat that his wing's provided keep you nice and toasty without the offered fire. "I'm sorry that I love my mate so much", you roll your eyes s little. Gods, it was true—Illyrians were nothing but babies if you found just the right spot to scratch.

"But do you think it had snowed?", you ask again, this time much more loudly, "You're not going to drop this until I open a window, are you?". You bite your lip quickly, trying to control your smile. Of course, he knows you. He knows you the best. And he knows your obsession with snow. Cassian had asked you about it more than once, but you never were able to pinpoint why you loved it so much. You had a feeling that it was because it made you feel calm. You have to admit that there was something about watching the snow fall. The ground being covered by a thick white blanket.

Cassian shifted, carefully pulling the blanket off himself but making sure that your body wasn't exposed to the chilly room. "Don't get your hopes up because I can't have you crying for the rest of the day. I can't control the weather", you hit his chest lightly and he only huffs before climbing out of the bed lazily making his way to the two huge windows in your house that overlook a tiny rocky forest. The moment the blinds are moved to the side, you let out a gasp. Practice jumping out of bed as your hands move to rest over the glass. Big eyes taking in the view in front of you. It indeed snowed last night. And quite a decent amount. The grey ground was now a pure white cloud, the trees were all frosty as well, and what was even better was that it was still snowing. Big, chunky snowflakes that looked like cotton balls fell gracefully to the ground.

You felt your mate's hands sneaking over your lower abdomen as he brought you closer to him. Resting his chin on top of your head. "It snowed," you whisper-scream, looking up at him, and this time the general is full of fits of laughter. You're like a kid in a candy store. And if you were let to run free you probably would be out of the house face first in the snow, "I can see that you little snow-obsessed freak", you poke your finger at his abs angrily. Or as angry as you could pretend to be. "Thought we don't judge in this house. I came to terms with the fact that you dunk your cheese in tomato sauce", Cassian lets out an overly dramatic gasp, "Now you are offending me. That's a culinary masterpiece." "Yeah, right. Hate to break it to you but everyone's been lying to your face", and in a blink of an eye, you are being thrown over Cassian's shoulder with a tiny shriek from you.

"Hey, I was watching the snow," you pouted, kicking your legs childishly. Cassian moved to bite the side of your thigh playfully, and you squealed once again. "Cassian," "You can do it from the bed while giving me love," he says, "You don't deserve it for offending my love for snow," Cassian carefully throws you down onto the bed before moving to light the fireplace.

"Do you remember our first winter together?", Cassian says while waiting for the fire to pick up before closing the glass door. You let out a giggle, covering your face, "You mean when you brought me to meet your family for the first time and I slipped down the hill on my bum?" It was so embarrassing that you had a little cry in their guest bathroom with Cassian sitting on the floor in front of you, reassuring you that it was fine and that no one cared. The most important part was that you hadn't hurt yourself badly. "You arrived quite literally", you tossed one of the spare pillows at him. He caught it with ease like that's what he does on a daily basis, before tossing it straight back at you.

Your gaze fell back onto the window, "You know what?", you ask and Cassian hums as he pulls out one of his sweaters, knowing how cold you get, and some socks for your always freezing toes. "Maybe I should have picked Azriel; he loves snow and has one of all the annual snowball fights." With that, Cassian is right on top of you, narrow eyes piercing through you. "Take that back right now," he says, you break into a grin, shaking your head quickly. "Take it back, baby girl, because you will not have the capability in your legs to go jumpy jumps in the snow when I'm done with you", Cassian takes both of your hands into his hold, pinning them above your head. A breath hitches in the back of your throat. You lift your head, reaching for his lips, but Cassian pulls his head back. "Uh ah, it doesn't work like that," he says. "Fine, you are the greatest, sweetest, strongest warrior ever, and I, oh, nearly faint every time I see you," you cry out in a soft, playful voice, and Cassian crooks his head to the side, watching you.

"You need to work on your acting skills, dove", "Ah, you're casting people for your play? What is it called? I've never won a snowball fight before?" Cassian gasps, both of his hands going under the shirt that you're wearing as he tickles your sides, kissing all over your face as well. Making you squirm beneath him, laughing almost hysterically. "Please stop, ahh," you whine, trying to turn your face to the side at least to escape his sloppy kisses, but there's no way out. "You are feisty this morning, take it back woman", his fingers dig into your side once more making you laugh even louder, "And mean it", you continue to squirm, hands gripping his biceps.

"Fine, sorry, I will piss the bed if you continue," you cry out. Cassian's fingers slowly inch toward your face, squishing your cheeks slightly, and you're still laughing. The general shakes his head, almost in disbelief. "Gods, end me. How are you always so perfect?", he asks, golden eyes watching you. You shrug your shoulders before putting your finger on his nose, "I could ask you the same thing, you bulky sex god from another planet." Cassian snorts at your words falling onto your chest, careful to not crush you with his weight as you wrap your legs around his torso, hands once again combing through his luscious black hair.

"You are like a drug, and please forgive me, Mother, but I am addicted," your mate mutters quietly, leaving a couple of kisses on your exposed collarbones. "I love you too, teddy bear," you lean in, kissing his temple. You two just laid there together. The sound of the cracking fire creates a cozy ambiance. Your eyes drift back to the snowy day outside. "So, are we going out to build a snowstorm?", "Woman, I swear, lay down and don't move."

••••

All acotar writing: @brekkershadowsinger @cityofidek @baebeepeach @lucyysthings @hideing @urfavbrunettebish @historygeekqueen @marina468 @courtofjurdan

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #cassian acotar imagine #cassian x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #azriel x reader

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luvfy0dor · 5 months

Text

"With a Big Cake, Happy Birthday ♡⁠˖" Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; None!

Description; Fyodor celebrates your birthday with you by eating cake for dinner because why not?

A/n; happy bday to me and any of my bday twins, I was gonna do an event but I chickened out because I had no ideas tbh so here's this. ALSO BIG THANKS TO MY POOKIE @ilovechuuy4 FOR ALL THE BDAY WISHES AND POSTS THEY MADE ME CRY SO HARD ☹️💜

ೃ⁀➷

Some time ago, you mentioned to your boyfriend the day of your birthday, and you almost thought he had forgotten. That was a rather silly mistake though. Fyodor could never forget such a thing, especially since it's your special day of the year.

The darkness of the early morning did anything but shine through your window as your alarm woke you up. You felt one of Fyodors thin arms drooped over your side, his chest rising and falling against your back. You lifted your head from your pillow, reaching for your phone and preparing yourself for the flashbang you would experience when you pushed the power button. Your eyes squinted as you tried to look at the bright rectangle of light in your hand, immediately turning the brightness down. It really did help, and you swiftly turned your alarm off. Scooching out of bed, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and yawned. You could still hear Fyodors soft breathing as he snoozed in the bed. You smiled a bit before getting up and skittering off to go about your morning routine. Fyodor usually woke up before you, but you wanted him to get some sleep since he didn't really have a designated awakening time.

You threw on some clothing and ate something before returning to your bedroom to find Fyodor still in the same position. Fyodor has always slept like a rock, constantly sleeping in the same position. Quickly leaning down, you peck his forehead and re-adjust the covers over his body. You then exit the room, grabbing your keys with a small sigh and walk out the door, not really enthusiastic to spend your day at your job.

While you were away, Fyodors eyes peeked open, his face halfway covered by the blankets. He stretched underneath the covers and pushed them off of his body. He yawned and blinked the sleep away before calling out for you. "Y/n?" He asks, his soft voice cutting through the silence of the house. The lack of response told him you had already gone off to work. He didn't mind you leaving without waking him, but he did like saying goodbye to you. Especially on your birthday. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, his bony fingers pressing your contact and messaging you. His messages were always short and to the point, and this one was really no different.

"Good morning, Moya Lyubov. Happy birthday."

You smiled when you noticed the notification on your lock screen, happy that he remembered. You continued on with your day at work while Fyodor made the decision of baking you a cake. Fyodor was a great cook, but baking was slightly out of the scope of his talents. However, he didn't mind trying for his lover. He gathered his supplies, pulled his hair back and washed his hands. He googled a recipe and followed one that he thought you would really enjoy. He was limited to ingredients though, so he had to chose between chocolate or vanilla. He added the dry ingredients to one bowl and then added the wet ones, blending it all together to create the cake batter. He poured it into three separate pans after spraying some butter around the sides. While the cakes cooked, he made a caramel filling for in between the layers. It didn't take very long for the cakes to cook, coming out nearly perfect with nothing on the toothpick he penetrated the center with. He hummed I'm approval and set the cakes to the side to cool.

He then created a buttercream frosting, taste testing it on a separate spoon to ensure that it was sweet enough for your liking. He spreads the filling on top of the two bottom cake layers and frosted it, proud of his work upon finishing it. He also found some sprinkles in the cabinet, so he scattered them on top of the cake, sticking it in the refrigerator until you got home. Until then, he would wash his hands once more and head to his little office-like work room.

Hours had passed and he was getting a substantial amount of work done when he hears your soft footsteps throughout the house. He raised an eyebrow, realizing he must've missed the door opening. He got up and walked out into the hallway. "Are you home, my dear?" He calls out. Unlike this morning, he receives a reply. "Yeah, I'm back." You say from the living room. He goes to greet you, pulling you into a gentle hug and kissing your forehead, mumbling against your skin and taking your hand. "Welcome back, did you have a good birthday?" He asked, looking at you through his long, dark eyelashes, the usual microscopic smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You just sighed and slumped your shoulders a little. "I mean, it wasn't necessarily bad but I'm sure it'll be so much better now that I can spend time with you instead."

"Hmm, I'll try to make it as good as possible for you, my love." He says, resting his head stop yours. "While you were gone, I made you a cake." He says, his eyes closed while he just stands with you for a moment. Your eyes light up when he says that, and you can't help but squeeze his hand and press a soft kiss to his collarbone. "Really? You didn't have to do that for me." You humbly say, moving your head from under his chin to look at him. "Well why not? I did it out of my own will, not obligation." He says, his voice smooth and soft as he spoke. "It's your birthday, you deserve something special, no?" He questions you, his own hair falling in front of his face. You grin and nod, accepting his kind gesture. "Yeah, I guess you're right." You say. He gives you a small smile and leads you to the kitchen. He drops your hand in order to take the cake out of the fridge, setting it on the counter. "I'm certainly no chef-" you cut off his accented speech with a peck on his lips. "It doesn't matter, I'm still very grateful." You say, grabbing two forks and handing him one of them.

The both of you start to eat the cake, talking about your day amongst other things. He listened to you talk a lot, he really did love the sound of your voice. Even if you were just yapping to yap, he didn't care in the moment. His head leaned into his fist as he took bites contently, his eyes staring at you while you spoke with both your mouth and hands. Over the course of 15 minutes, you and Fyodor had chipped away about one third of the cake while exchanging sweet words between your conversations. You also inched closer to him, his arm around your waist with your hand cupping his cheek, a bit of frosting on his cheek from your finger. Your conversations continued with the cake sitting further down on the counter from the spot Fyodor was leaned against. You leaned in and kissed him on the corner of his lips before you wiped the frosting off with your ring finger, sucking it off. He smile and guided your chin closer, pulling you in and pressing a gentle, loving kiss to your pretty lips.

You hummed, one hand on his shoulder and the other twirling some of his hair. You pulled away after a moment and he spoke up. "I hope you like the cake, moya lyubov." He softly says, his cheeks tinted red in the slightest. You nodded. "Ofcourse I loved it. The cake made my day, like, a million times better. You being here alone already does that." You say hugging him and resting your head on his shoulder. He rubs your back gently, his cool hands sliding up your shirt as you both stand together. "I'm glad I could do that for you." He confesses truthfully, his thin fingers tracing shapes onto your skin while the both of you just kinda sway together for a moment; starting off your peaceful and sweet night with your lover.

A/n; Thank you guys so much for always enjoying the stuff I put out, it makes me so happy! I hit 5k likes the other day and wanted to cry because of how happy I was lol, so thank you!!! 💜

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sstormyskyess · 5 months

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Medical Evac

author's note: i'm not sure i'm the best at writing whumps [i love hurt/comfort so i may write a part two to this but we'll just have to see]

cw: whump, mentions of blood, injury

word count: 1600+

Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!Reader "Nails"

If only every operation could just go smoothly. Unfortunately, in the world of TF-141, the dirtiest work was the norm. With the dirtiest work comes the nastiest repercussions when things go horribly wrong, after all. "Ghost, I need you to open your eyes for me. Please,” You plead with the hulking man laying in your arms. Your voice is muted as you choke back a sob, your eyes shut tight. The sound of Ghost’s pained groans is both disheartening and promising at the same time; at the very least, he's still breathing.

The corner you had dragged the both of you into was dark, dusty, and dicey, similar to the situation you found yourselves in. The room you're in was surrounded by enemy forces: the ones who reduced the almighty Ghost to a half-dead heap on the filthy concrete floor smeared with layers of blood, old and new. Your eyes moved frantically between Ghost, to the door of the hovel you’d created, and to the barred window on the other side of the room. Evac was supposed to be only a few minutes out and it had been almost fifteen minutes since you called for it. What could possibly be delaying them?

Ghost had stopped squirming in pain at this point. His breathing is slow, labored. It's almost impossible to tell if his eyes are open or not, and the pitch black eye paint certainly doesn’t help. “Ghost?” You shake him a bit. No response. “Ghost?” Your voice begs him for a sound, a twitch, anything to show you that he was still alive. “Please, you can’t leave me— I can’t lose you now.” You whimper quietly as you hunch over to press your forehead against the hard plastic plate of Ghost’s mask. All you can hear was the crackling flames and heavy boot steps just outside the room.

A heavy hand meets the back of your head, causing you to flinch up and look at Ghost. His eyes were finally open again. It was only just a fraction and it seems so forced that it hurt, but they were open. The hand holding your head so gently was tense. His grip tightens and loosens in time with his strained breathing. The tears in your eyes finally fall and drop down onto Ghost’s mask, prompting him to squeeze the back of your head just a bit harder. “It’ll—” Your voice breaks as you speak, feeling choked by the smoke and your own tears. “It’ll only be a little longer, Ghost, just— please, please,” You nuzzle deeper into his hold. “Just stay alive…”

Your shaky hand shot up to your transceiver and your desperate voice blurts out quickly, “What’s the status on evac?! We need to go— now!” Ghost’s hand grips even tighter, trying his best to ground you. Smoke had started to seep under the door. The footfalls outside had seemingly begun to grow louder, louder…

Until, finally, you see the heli approaching your location. You look down at Ghost for a second. Reluctantly, you set him down, carefully, as though he was made of porcelain. You scramble over to the barred window and scan for the best vantage point to… there.

Your foot comes up and slams into a rusted part of the bars and breaks them open, along with some of the bones in your foot. But that wasn’t important right now. A sudden burst of adrenaline courses through your veins from the mind-numbing pain you just inflicted upon yourself and you suddenly find yourself dragging Ghost along the floor and over your shoulder and jumping through the window to the grassy ground around the building. You wince when you felt him take a couple impacts on the way out. You adjust him the best you could, not wanting to make things worse. The last thing you needed was for things to be even worse than they already are.

You haven’t been able to breathe properly for the past six hours. Your mind has been entirely preoccupied with thoughts of Ghost. He hadn’t stirred once since you made it back to the small temporary base TF-141 had settled into for the past few weeks. Even though pain has been radiating up your ankle to the rest of your leg, you haven’t let anyone near to assess the damage. You haven’t even let Price, Soap or Gaz approach you. Whenever anyone would close in on you, your chest tightened. It was as if a boa constrictor has wrapped itself around your chest, squeezing as tight as it could. You just couldn’t stop yourself from snapping at the medics and your colleagues. You knew deep down you’d regret it later, but that was far from the front of your mind.

Really, this whole situation was your fault. It was the most simple mistake, one that even a rookie wouldn’t make. You caught your foot on one piece of debris and Ghost had to help you up. Then, next thing you knew, he had been riddled with bullet holes and he was bleeding everywhere, and he was dying, he was dying—

“Nails…” Ghost’s voice was rough, the sound of it grating on your mind. You can’t bear to keep hearing it playing over and over in your head. It's painful. It hurt to hear him like that. “Nails.” You silently beg for it to stop. His voice was like sandpaper, digging into your skin down to your heart, into your lungs. You couldn’t breathe—

“Nails!” Ghost’s insistent voice finally breaches past your spiraling mind and you jump to attention. You hadn’t realized you were crying again, hunched over and sobbing into your lap, the tears falling down upon your still dirtied cargo pants. You meet eyes with Ghost. You stare at each other for a couple more seconds until he coughs and winces in pain. Apparently, shouting like that really did a number on the back of his throat, parched after the many hours of not drinking.

Words continue to go unexchanged for a few more seconds that seem to drag on for hours. Before you choke out, “I’m sorry,” over and over again. You hunch back over, unable to look Ghost in the eyes. All you could keep seeing was the pain in his gaze under his mask and eye paint. Ghost’s firm hand lands on your head, caressing you with his now ungloved hand. You lean into him quietly. “I almost got you killed…” Your body trembles, your voice broken and breathless.

Ghost’s hand tenses. “Stop that.” He grumbles through gritted teeth. He hates this self-flagellation you were subjecting yourself to. You didn’t deserve that pain, that sole responsibility you tended to leverage upon yourself. You're too good for that. “Look at me.” His voice is gruff and gravelly as he vies for your attention, watching you despair in front of him. Your eyes are finally pulled up to Ghost’s; they're red and saturated with tears, your eyelashes catching the droplets.

“I’m alright.” Ghost’s voice is hoarse as he did his best to comfort you. He grabs your hand and squeezes it tight, bringing you closer to the present and further out of your mind. “Ghost, I— You almost died. I don’t want to lose you…” Your voice is weak. You look at Ghost almost as though he isn’t real. You feel as though maybe this is all just a dream: a hopeful dream where Ghost was still alive, a dream where you’d actually succeeded in keeping him alive. Maybe he's dead and gone, and you’ll wake up just to see that you failed. “I can’t lose you.” The tears start to return. “Are you… are you gone?” You whisper.

Ghost’s cold, icy heart has been cracking ever since he met you. It's been getting harder and harder for him to tell himself he doesn’t care, and that you're just a coworker, maybe even a nuisance with how persistent you are in trying to make friends with him. No matter what he did, you're always there for him, ready to help and ready to care for him if ever he needs it. Even if you knew that the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. Ghost sighs. “I’m here. I’m not dead.” He moves his hand up your arm and squeezes your shoulder. “You’re not gonna lose me, Nails.”

You sit there quietly for a few minutes, only the sounds of Ghost’s heart monitor and your labored breathing occupying the room. You sigh and look up from your lap. “I should get the nurse.” You force out, still trying to choke down the tears welling up. You grip the armrest of the bed and stand carefully, but you don’t get far before your knees buckle and you fall to the floor with a cry of pain.

Ghost is up and at attention immediately, grabbing hold of your arm. “What’s the issue, Nails?” You whimper and try to force yourself up again. “My—” You clench your teeth, your brow scrunching up. “My foot. It’s broken, I think…” You mutter, waiting for his admonishment. Ghost squints at you. “Why haven’t you gotten it treated, sergeant?” His voice is firm, masking the genuine worry hiding beneath it. He watches as fresh tears start rolling down your cheeks. “I didn’t— I-I was worried about you…” You whimper.

“Bloody git…” Ghost groans both in pain and in frustration. You sniffle and get yourself sat in the chair again. “I-I have to get the nurse. I’m sorry.” You wipe your face with your sleeve. Forcing yourself up again, you keep your eyes off Ghost and squeezed shut. With shaky legs, you limp and stumble on your way to the door. Ghost sighs and settles back into his bed to shut his eyes after watching you leave.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon riley x gn!reader #ghost x gn!reader #ghost mw2 #ghost modern warfare #ghost cod #mwii #modern warfare ii #mw2 2022 #cod mw2 #mw2 #mw2 x reader #mw2 fanfic #storm's creations #sstormyskyess

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age-of-play-i-say · 1 year

Text

Mama catching me vigorously humping the kitchen counter through my diaper, up on my tiptoes and holding my little skirt up out of the way to get any pressure at all through the soft layers on onto my baby parts.

My eyes are closed and my mouth is hanging open against my pink cheeks, which have a light layer of sweat to them, indicating I've been working at this for a while.

I don't look that successful, humping wildly but only seeming to rarely catch a good angle through all the crinkly padding. I whine and my face twists in frustration as my feet slip and I lose the perfect angle to pleasure myself with, again.

Mama smiles, knowing how tough the whole taping-the-diaper-closed thing is for me, Mama's horniest Baby.

Mama knows I could easily get off five or six times a day without breaking a sweat, my little brain being wholly absorbed in my own pleasure, and my sensitive parts growing so reactive whenever I'm little. Mama eventually taped my diaper for my own good when I couldn't control myself and kept trying to do special touch time everywhere.

Mama wants to help out her baby and knows baby loves to hump and hold, and after a quick check, she confirms that Baby's diaper is still dry. She's equally impressed and alarmed.

"Little one, this diaper went on hours ago and it's still dry, I thought I told you to release when you needed!" Mama's scolding but still, her cock starts swelling in her jeans.

Her Baby is desperate. Very desperate.

I won't stop trying to make my humpies, frantic to keep the hours of wee wees out of this babyish diapee! I'm trying to work out how to get out of it and use the big potty when Mama materialized behind me for a sudden diaper check.

Mama is not happy to find me dry and squirmy, flipping me around and quickly lifting me to settle on her hip. She bounces me to settle me in more than is strictly necessary, enjoying my desperate little wiggles after each soft impact against her hip.

Mama carries her baby to their bathroom, settling their wiggly butt on the edge of the tub before running off to grab her hitachi wand, which she plugs in and brings to kneel at my feet. She grabs my knees and forces them apart, which makes me whine and grind forward helplessly.

She holds the palm of her hand flat against the front of my diaper and squeezes, teasing me and my brimming baby parts.

"Sweetie, this is not good for your bladder, holding this long when you're so little!" She firmly swats the front of the diaper before pressing it against my soaked and twitching stiffie again. "I don't like that you're being stubborn, but I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"I'm going to using the magic wand to get out all your stickies, but! I won't do it until your diapee is nice and wet, little baby, so what are you waiting for? I brought you to the potty room, and you're already wearing your potty!"

I whine and cant my hips forward, feeling shy about Mama's hand placement over my winkie where she'll be able to feel my tinkles when they come out but still bursting.

I whimper and try to let go but get startled by the rumble of the wand. I look down hopefully, only to find Mama placing the head of the wand against her hard cock with her left hand, squeezing her baby's excited parts with her right.

Seeing Mama's eyes flutter makes my winkie pulse and forces my bladder to contract.

I shiver as the first spray hits my padding, softening and dampening the layers as I continue to shake and soak my diapee.

Mama shivers with me, hearing the hissing of my tinkles finally begin in earnest

Mama sees her baby's face finally relax and feels real peace, coming hard on the wand moments after the tension leaves their precious little one's expression.

Afterwards they immediately press the wand into the soaked padding of their baby. I'm still piddling with some force, and the feeling of relief and wet heat combined with the deep vibrations of the wand make me scream and immediately arch off the bed into a long orgasm, peeing the whole time.

Mama squeezes at my diaper one last, this time the padding squishes against my spent baby parts.

"Uh-oh!" she says in a sing-song voice, "looks like someone needs a big change. Mama will take care of you, baby, always."

#maple speaks #omutsu #ab of dl

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stranded-ziggy · 7 months

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Ziggy's Beginner Oil Painting Tips (Part 1)

Despite being far from a master oil painter, I'd like to do what I can to try and make this amazing medium easier to access for all artists in the wake of AI, NFTs and the current culture of art being seen as "content" rather than something timeless.

I'm far from a spiritual person in any sense, but there is something completely unique about holding an oil painting you created in your own hands. I've yet to be lucky enough to see any of the old master's paintings in person so all I've seen are my own but despite my inexperience there's a depth to my oil paintings that my digital art can't begin to compare with.

Disclaimer: I take a very relaxed approach to oil painting and have never sold a painting before nor do I have any intention to start selling them any time soon so if you want to create museum quality pieces this is not the guide for you.

This is a guide to help people start experimenting with oil paints and putting paint to paper/canvas.

Contents:

Paints

Gesso

Mediums

Paints

I'm primarily a portrait painter so the palletes I recommend will mostly be useful for painting people.

My favourite pallete:

Titanium white

Yellow ochre

Dusty pink (optional, I just got it for quickly mixing skin tones but burnt sienna and white will do the same; provide a base which you can then cool down/darken/hue shift as you want

Vermillion hue

Burnt sienna

Burnt umber

ultramarine blue

Basically it's the Zorn pallete with a bit of customization, but that means if you want some tips for painting with this pallete you can just search "painting with the zorn pallete" and find a lot of helpful resources.

(Note: You may note there is no lamp black or Ivory black, that is because I prefer to mix burnt umber and ultramarine blue. This dries faster in my experience and also lets me cool it down or warm it up as I want.)

Budget pallete:

Titanium white

Yellow ochre

Vermillion hue

Alizarin crimson

Viridian hue

(Note: in this pallete alizarin crimson and viridian hue can be used to mix a grey/black)

Gesso

Despite my laziness in nearly all aspects of life I do like to gesso my painting surfaces even when they are pre-primed (if you are using a surface that hasn't been primed already such as paper priming is very important).

Usually I buy packs of cheap canvases for around $6 AUD so I feel as though the least I can do is add a few extra layers of gesso to them to help stop the paint from sinking right in and beginning to look dull and matte.

Honestly I don't have a brand to recommend, I have used the liquitex gesso and it's good but despite paying a lot for it I only had enough for a few canvases so for the most part I use the type you can get at craft stores for less than $10, so I say go for whatever is within your budget.

Mediums

I avoid solvents completely in my painting, sacrificing my health any more than I already do by leading the Sedentary Artist Life (tm) isn't worth it in my opinion.

I use Liquin primarily but I also enjoyed using Gamlin's solvent free fluid until I stopped being able to open the cap...

Linseed oil is probably the best medium but you will wait weeks for your painting to dry between layers verses the day, maybe 2 days you will wait using Liquin.

Brushes

There's really no reason to buy super expensive brushes, at least not for me, I paint in a way that's very loose so they don't have the longest life span. I still use brushes that have lost their shape for loose hairs and interesting textures though.

You'll note there's usually "oil painting" brushes in art supply stores, these are good for starting a painting and scrubbing paint onto the canvas when you are trying to work lean over fat (as in layers with more oil on top as they dry slower, this helps the painting to not end up looking cracked).

However, water colour paint brushes serve me well for details as well as acrylic painting brushes.

It's all up to experimentation on you, the artist's part.

As for washing your brushes, as long as you don't leave them lying around with paint on them for so long that it drys completely using a bar of soap will do, or if you can afford it buying some brush cleaner/ restorer is great, solvents like turpentine are not necessary at all.

#art #oil painting #artists resources #painting #tips #resources #painting on a budget #expert oil painters will probably disagree with all of this but this is advice from someone with adhd and not a lot of money haha #just trying to have fun here yo

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subbmissivesuccubus · 1 month

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Lumine's Harem (If Aether allows it) - Heizou

Summary: There is a case of serial robberies that has the detective stumped but luckily, he has the twins to help. But when they manage to find an important clue, how far will they go to help the man solve the mystery? Disclaimer: This chapter contains incest, exhibitionism, public sex, filming/photography (with and without consent), blackmailing.

The new chapter of the series is up on my P&treon! The link is in my bio if you'd like to read it (and many other stories) and support me and my writing <3 here's a sneak peek!

Misaki double checked that the cookies was secure in the box, a smile on her face as she was quite proud of her baking skills. Closing her front door, she quickly started to skip over to her destination: the neighbour’s house. All day she was watching furniture and luggage be brought into the newly bought house and from what she gathered, a married couple had moved in. There was finally a pause in the moving to break for lunch and so she thought it would be nice to go over and say hello with a fresh batch of cookies.

Definitely not for any other reasons. And definitely not for some juicy gossip.

She rang the bell once she was by the front door, having weaved through boxes and furniture that was yet to be placed into the house.

A handsome young man opened the door, his looks taking away Misaki’s breath. With short layered black hair, his eyes a deep blue and a piercing on his left eyebrow, he was easily one of the more handsome men to live in the neighbourhood. But what stunned her the most were his arm tattoos. The sleeves of his Yukata were bunched up a bit, his body a bit sweaty from moving, and it showed off his various tattoos. Misaki could barely make out what was on him but it looked like a mix of different things. From words to art- his arms stunned her, having never met somebody with so many tattoos.

“Hello.” he said, breaking her out of his trance, “May I help you?”

“Oh! Excuse me-” Misaki said cheerfully, a bit embarrassed by her silence, “My name is Misaki. I’m your next-door neighbour! I saw you moving in and thought I'd come by and introduce myself.”

“How thoughtful of you.” the man said with a kind smile, “Just one second.” he turned around towards the house before calling out:

“Sweetheart! Come here for a second.”

A woman’s voice immediately responded: “Coming!”

The two of them waited as the sound of footsteps got closer, the third party quickly joining them. Misaki once again felt her lungs stop working as she came face to face with a beautiful young woman. With chocolate brown hair decorated with small flowers, plump pink lips and wide, adorable green eyes, all complimented by the pink and flowery kimono she was wearing- she looked like a walking angel. Her appearance and demeanour were the complete opposite of the mans and yet, they looked even more attractive next to each other. “This is my wife, Eri and you can call me Nathaniel.” the man introduced as the woman bowed, his hand gently placed on the small of her back, “Sweetie, this is our neighbour, Mrs.Misaki.”

“Oh, hello!” Eri responded, “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for coming by.”

“Likewise.” Misaki responded, getting a hold of herself as she bowed as well. “Here, I've made you some sweets.” she said, handing over the box to Eri, “I’m quite good at baking if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you so much!” Eri said, gratefully accepting the box, “My husband and I have big sweet tooths. We’ll enjoy this a lot, I'm sure.”

“We don’t have many people in this neighbourhood who aren’t Inazuman locals. Are you perhaps from Mondstad?” Misaki asked, looking at Nathaniel.

“I am.” the man responded with a nod, “I moved to Inazuma once we got married.”

“Oh, how romantic! So, how long have you two been together?”

Eri giggled, gracefully covering her mouth with her sleeve, “I’m sorry, I'm afraid we’re still quite busy with setting up our home. But perhaps, once everything is finished, I can invite you over for some tea and we can get to know each other?”

“Oh? Oh! Yes, of course.” Misaki laughed, a bit embarrassed by her need for some gossip, “I’ll leave you two to it. If you need help with anything, I live right next to you so feel free to call me.”

“We’ll keep that in mind.” Eri smiled with a bow. With another goodbye, she gently closed the door, the sound of the lock latching audible to Misaki’s ears. She stood by their doorway for a second, blinking before she started to giggle.

She couldn’t wait to get to know them better and share all of the gossip!

On the other side of the door, the couple waited until they heard footsteps retreating from their front yard before they let out a sigh of relief, some of the stress leaving their body.

“...Do you think she bought it?” Eri- or rather- Lumine asked, looking over at her ‘husband’.

“I think that was good.” Nathaniel- or rather- Aether responded, giving his sister a nod.

Lumine let out a loud sigh, hand on her chest as she released her breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “It’s been a while since I’ve needed to act like this. I forgot how nerve wracking it is!”

“Don’t get cold feet now. We’re going to have to sell this for a while.” Aether reminded.

“I know, I know.” Lumine said, waving away his concern, “I’ll be alright. Just need to get used to it.”

Her brother gave her back a reassuring pat, “Come on. Let’s continue unpacking.”

“Sure.”

~~~~~

#subby writes #genshin impact lumine #genshin smut #genshin impact aether #genshin impact smut #aelumi #aether x lumine #heizou smut #shikanoin heizou #heizou x lumine

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leelei1980 · 6 months

Text

Housemates

Need to catch up! Parts 1-6 here!

Part Six- Date Night

A date with Amy was a sure thing, but what’s a guy to do when you come home and find your roommate crying on the couch….

taglist: @micheledawn1975

Steve

" I've got a date with Amy tonight." I leaned back against the kitchen counter, keeping Eddie company as he quickly chowed down his dinner before he left for work.

" Is she the stacked redhead or the tiny blonde that you have been talking about? I can't keep up."

" The Redhead."

" Doesn't she work with you?"

" Yeah, I have been trying to get her to go out with me for a month now, she said that I make her nervous because I am such a flirt. She finally gave in to my charm."

" Which is exactly why she was afraid to date you." Eddie squinted his eyes at me. " Going out with someone you work with though, man that's risky. That can get really messy. I vowed never to fuck anyone I work with ever again. Just makes shit awkward ."

I rolled my eyes."Not if I make it 100% crystal clear what my intentions are.Nothing serious, just casual."

" Still awkward working with someone you have seen naked, just saying."

I cocked my head." Who did you sleep with?"

" Lauren. This was before the Whiskey Barrel.Remember when I worked at that Pizza place for like a month when we first moved here?"

" Oh yeah! Was she the tattoo girl or the short haired blonde girl?"

" Blonde." He finished the last bite on his plate then got up to put it in the sink." She got really clingy. I couldn't stand it. That is why I bailed on Rocco's pizza."

We heard a door open then looked up to see Mackenzie walking into the living room looking like an absolute stunner. Her long chestnut hair was down, but pulled back from her face with a barrette and she was wearing a form fitting black dress with a scooped neck and long sleeves. The hem of the dress rested a few inches above her knees. Her legs looked amazing in her heels. I was floored. I had only seen the girl in baggy clothes and wearing layers upon layers of clothing. I had no idea that that body was hiding underneath all that clothing. I had to tell myself to blink. The makeup on her face was very subtle , I don't think she really needed any at all, she was a natural beauty, but whatever she did made her big hazel eyes pop, and her pouty lips with a shimmering gloss...."Wow, Kenzie, you look beautiful." I backhanded Eddie who was gawking too.

" Yeah Sweetheart . You look amazing."

Mackenzie blushed." Thanks guys! I ,uh, actually have a date tonight. One of the girls that I work with is setting me up with her nephew." She held her hand up and twisted her fingers together." Fingers crossed." I watched her as she paced nervously back and forth, her heels clicking across the floor.

" Mac, your making me dizzy walking around in circles like that."

" I can't help it, I'm nervous! I haven't been on a date in three years." She stopped and started nibbling at her nails.

I walked over to her and lightly removed her fingertips from her mouth. I smiled down at her as she looked up at me with big wide eyes. "You don't want to ruin your lip gloss or your nail polish by chewing on your nails." I watched her sigh. I put my hands on her shoulders and gave them a squeeze." Your going to be fine. You look amazing, your sweet and charming, he's going to love you."

" And if he doesn't he's a Dickhead that doesn't deserve you anyway." Eddie walked up beside us." You look fucking stunning." He smiled and she smiled back. " Go enjoy yourself. And don't do anything I wouldn't do."

I chuckled and looked over at him. " Is there anything you wouldn't do?"

" No." He winked at Mackenzie." Good luck, I hope you get some dick tonight."

My jaw dropped and Mackenzie burst out laughing." I can't believe you just said that to her."

" It made her laugh didn't it, that was the point.Loosen her up, make her forget how nervous she is." Eddie smirked." Do you feel a little better now Sweetheart?"

She smiled and shook her head." Yes, Thank you Eddie."

He bowed dramatically and I rolled my eyes." Have a good night at work. Don't get into any trouble."

" I get more tips when I do." He grabbed his keys off the counter and headed for the door." Have fun on your dates."

" Bye Eddie." We said in unison and we watched him walk out the door.

" Your going on a date tonight too? "

" Yeah, going out to dinner then we will see where the evening takes us."

Mac smirked at me." I have a feeling you know how this evening is going to go. So is there some kind of like bat signal that I should be looking out for so I know I won't be walking into and freaky shit when I get home?"

I laughed." No Bat signal, we try to be respectful and keep all the freaky shit in the bedroom, unspoken rule, don't have sex in the common areas, I mean we are all sharing space here."

" Sounds like an excellent rule. Oh!" She took off running into her bedroom than returned a few moments later with something in her hand." Steve? Do you think you could help me with this?" She dangled a small gold pendant from her finger." I always have the hardest time with these clasps."

I smiled." Absolutely." I took the chain from her and brushed her hair aside, she smelled amazing and her hair was like silk. I draped it over her chest then brought it around the back to clasp it, lightly brushing her neck as I did so. She had such nice soft skin, I bet it was this soft everywhere - Jesus Christ Steven pull yourself together, this is your roommate. Strictly friends." There you go." I turned her back around to face me." Perfect."

She smiled." Thanks Steve." She fiddled with the pendant than looked at the clock." Shit! I had better get going. I don't want to be late, got to make a good first impression!"

" Have a great time. You'll have to tell me about it in the morning in case I don't see you tonight..." I raised my eyebrows and smirked.

" Enjoy your date, I hope it works out exactly the way you want it to." She grabbed her purse from the chair she had set it on and gave me a little wave before leaving. I clapped my hands together, I had the house to myself so I could take as much time to get ready as I wanted. Watch out Amy, here I come.

Dinner had gone flawlessly, we chatted and joked, I had turned on the ole Harrington charm and put her completely at ease. We saw each other at work every day so it is not like we were strangers. I learned that she had originally grown up in Indianapolis so she had been fairly local, and that she had wanted to finally branch out on her own, be independent. She worked as a Barista during the week, like me, and had a side job waitressing on the weekends to help pay rent. She was a nice girl, a little bit ditzy, and now that she was comfortable with me she was very horny. She kept playing footsy with me under the table at the restaurant, and by that I mean she ran her foot up my leg then would brush my junk, thank god we were at a booth and not at a table. After dinner I asked her if she would like to go to a movie and she said that she would rather have me entertain her at my place, then she rubbed my thigh and kissed my neck all the whole drive home. I certainly wasn't going to complain about that.

And now here we are kissing in the hallway out infront of my apartment door, I'm struggling to get my keys out of my pocket, because I have a raging boner the fabric is pulled so tight I can't barely get my hand inside . I press her up against the door and hear her whimper.

" Hurry up Stevie, I want you so bad."

" I want you too baby, Jesus Christ-" I finally work my keys free and unlock the door. We stumble inside, I'm groping her she is groping me, her tongue is practically shoved down my throat and to be honest, it's a little aggressive but I'm going with it, I kick the door shut and we practically run into the kitchen table. It's then that I hear a noise. Crying? Is that crying?

I pull away and for the first time I notice a figure curled up in the chair in the corner of the room."Mac?"

Amy nibbled on my ear."Stevie, come on, I thought we were going to have sex?"

" Amy, baby, can you give me a minute?"

She pouted and sighed and took a seat at the table.

I turned my attention back to my roommate." Mackenzie? Are you ok?" I walked over and turned the lamp on the lowest setting. My heart broke. "What happened babe?"

Mackenzie was curled up into a ball, tear stained cheeks with trails of mascara, tissue in one hand, open bottle of wine in the other. She sniffed then took a sip right out of the bottle. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine, I don't want to ruin your date."

" Your clearly not fine though." I looked into her sad eyes, then over to Amy who was twirling her hair around her finger. I sighed." I'll be right back." I made my way over to my date. " Hey baby."

" Soooo, what's going on? " Amy stood up, hand on her hip. " Are we going to do this?"

I ran my hands over my face." Baby, I'm so sorry, I don't think this is going to work out tonight. I'm so, so sorry. My roommate is having some kind of crisis, I can't just leave her like that." I motioned to her sobbing the chair. I wrapped my arms around her waist." I promise I will make it up to you baby."

She sighed." You better." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me." It's sweet that you care about your roommate, you get bonus points for that."

" Let me call you a cab. It's on me." I kissed her forehead and called Amy a taxi to take her home. I slid some cash into her pocket and walked her to the lobby, giving her one hell of a kiss to show her my appreciation for her understanding. I waited just a few minutes for the cab to come, making sure she was tucked safely inside then I headed back to the apartment. I prepared myself for the next task at hand then walked in and back over to Mackenzie. I knelt down in front of her. It hurt my feelings seeing her like this. "Ok, what the hell happened?" I took a tissue out of the box and wiped the tears from her cheeks as she sniffled. "Was he an asshole?"

" He never showed up. I sat in that restaurant for an hour and he never showed up. I was so embarrassed." She took another swig, I carefully took the half empty bottle out of her hand and set it on the coffee table.

" He never showed?"

She dabbed at her eyes." He never showed up. Every time someone would walk in alone I would think there he is and then they would walk right by me." A big tear rolled down her cheek. "What if he walked in and took one look at me and took off?"

I shook my head." Impossible, no one would take a look at you and walk away, your gorgeous." I wiped the tear off her cheek with my thumb.

"What's wrong with me Steve? How come no one wants me? "

"Aww babe, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You are amazing. Darren was a stupid asshole for doing what he did to you and not realizing what a gem he had. There is someone out there for you, I know it, someone that will treat you and love you the way you deserve to be treated and loved. Don't settle for anything less."

Mac sighed." I am so thankful for you guys, you have been so wonderful. I couldn't ask for better roommates.I'm just lonely, ya know? I was with Darren so long that I forgot what it was like to be single.To sleep alone. I miss being held, being close to another human being."

" I'll hold you." I looked into her pretty eyes and saw them flash in surprise."I have always been told I give the best hugs."

" For real?" She searched my eyes.

" Absolutely. I promise it won't be creepy or weird."

She smiled warily." I know, I trust you Steve. "

I stood up in front of her and offered her my hands to help her up and I watched her as she unfolded herself from the ball she was curled into and put her small hands in mine. I gently pulled her to her feet then pulled her into my embrace, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her closer. She instantly melted into me, finally getting the closeness that she had been craving.

"Thank you Steve." I could tell that she was crying again.

" Your welcome. " I squeezed her tight. "Don't cry babe. Hey ,I am always here for cuddles'Kay?" I felt her nod. " Why don't we just sit and chill on the couch?" I unwrapped her and went to sit on the couch. She dabbed at her eyes again then sat beside me.

I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. She rested her head on my chest and let out a deep breath. I kissed the top of her head and covered her up with a throw from the back of the couch.

Mackenzie tilted her head up to look at me." Your wonderful at cuddling. Thank you so much for this, you have no idea how comforting this is. "

" I'm glad I could be of assistance. I would never turn down a cuddle with a pretty girl." I smiled down at her.

" I ruined your date. I'm sorry you don't get to have sex tonight."

" It's fine. You know maybe it was a blessing in disguise.Eddie told me not to date someone I work with, that it could get really messy if it didn't work out and as much as I like her I can see how that could happen.I mean we would literally be spending all our time together and what if we got sick of each other. I mean that could get awkward-"

" Hmmm." I looked down and saw her eyes slowly closing.I brushed her hair out of her face. Poor pretty girl. It wasn't long before I heard the sound of light snores. I couldn't help but smile. One glass of wine- fine, two glasses of wine apparently extreme giggles. Almost a whole bottle of wine, crying and snoring. I still wanted to see Margarita Mac, from what I heard she can get a little wild.

I felt her snuggle into my neck, her breath warm on my skin. It wasn't long before I was warm and cozy and I felt my own eyes slowly closing.

" Hey! Harrington!" I felt someone shake my shoulder and I slowly opened my eyes. Eddie was standing in front of me eyes wide." What the fuck did I miss?" He whispered." Why are you on the couch with Mack and not in your bed with a redhead? What the fuck happened?"

I motioned for him to lower his voice."Shhh, don't wake her up! I'll go put her in her bed then fill you in."

Eddie smirked as I carefully stood up with her in my arms. She slightly stirred then wrapped her arms around my neck. I did my best to get her down the hallway without bouncing her off the walls, Eddie ran ahead and opened the door and turned down her bed.

" Got it Harrington?"

" Got it, wanna go crack us a beer and I'll be right out?"

Eddie nodded and smiled as he left the room.

I slowly lowered her down onto her comfy bed, and she stirred again, pulling me closer and placing a gentle kiss on my lips. I froze not knowing what to do. Her lips were so soft, and as much as I didn't want to I slowly pulled away. It was a completely innocent, sleepy kiss and I was sure that she probably wouldn't remember it in the morning. I carefully removed her arms from my neck and covered her up. She snuggled into her blankets and I quietly left the room. I took a moment to collect myself then walked out to the kitchen.

" All tucked in?" Eddie smiled as he popped a couple pretzels into his mouth then took a swing of beer, his after work snack.

" Yeah." I leaned back against the counter and took a sip of beer.

" So enlighten me, what the fuck happened? I was not expecting to walk in and see you snuggled up on the couch with Mackenzie. Weren't you supposed to be banging some Amy chick tonight?"

I ran my hands over my face." Yeah, that was the plan. We went to dinner, it went great, this girl was fired up dude, like running her foot up my leg at dinner, asking me if she could come to my place after, kissing my neck and practically grabbing my dick as I drove home. So we get here, making out in the hall, get inside groping, grabbing, tongues down each other's throats, and I hear crying. Look over and there is O'Conner curled up in a ball in the chair, bawling her eyes out , drinking wine straight out the bottle. Her date stood her up, she waited an hour and the asshole never showed."

" What a Dick." He shook his head.

" She was pretty upset. I couldn't just leave her crying in the chair. I told Amy I would make it up to her, got her a cab and sent her home."

"I can't believe you turned down sex."

" Eddie, she was a mess, I'm sure the bottle of wine didn't help.She was convinced that no one wants her. I had to talk her down. Seeing her cry like that? There is no way I could have concentrated on fucking Amy knowing that Mack was that upset."

" What a blow, trying to get back into the dating scene and getting stood up."

" She's lonely. She was with Dickhead for so long, and now she's alone. She said she missed being held so I held her. It was nice. She's small and soft and she smells good. Tonight wasn't a total loss."

" She certainly looked mighty comfy. Not going to lie, I'm kind of jealous I wasn't here to rescue her tonight. She does smell good, doesn't she?"

" Yeah." I sighed. I wanted to tell Eddie about the kiss but decided against it, I didn't want to make a big deal about it."She's such a nice girl, and there are so many losers out there."

" She deserves better than what she had that's for sure. That's why I just keep it casual, you don't get your heart broken. We will just have to look out for her. If we spot an Assface we let her know."

" I don't want to see her get hurt. I feel like it's our duty to protect her. "

" Same." Eddie finished off his beer."I'm going to hit the sack. Nice job taking care of our girl tonight."

" Thanks. I'm heading to bed too. What a fucking strange night." We locked the doors and turned off the lights then went out separate ways. I fell asleep that night thinking of Mackenzie's soft kiss.

I heard a soft rustling in my room, and opened my eyes. Mackenzie was carefully setting down a plate on my nightstand with a muffin and some fruit on it. She looked bright eyed for someone that had almost polished off a bottle of wine on her own.

" Good morning."

She jumped." Shit, I didn't mean to wake you. I'm sorry."

" Don't worry about it." I sat up and rubbed my sleepy eyes." How are you feeling this morning?"

She sighed." I'm feeling like an asshole for how I acted last night. I ruined your date, cried and carried on-"

"Mackenzie please, " I put my hand on her arm and she sat on the edge of my bed." Don't apologize. Look, as I was saying last night before I realized you had so rudely fallen asleep, " I smiled at her ." I think you did me a favor. I think Eddie was right, don't sleep with someone you work with, it could get complicated."

" Its my fault you didn't get to have sex."

I shrugged." I still got to cuddle with a pretty girl so the night wasn't a total loss." I winked at her.

She smiled and blushed." You are wonderful at cuddling." She sighed." I slept amazing last night."

" That could have been the bottle of wine."

" It was you. You went over and above your roommate duties. I mean you carried me to my room."

" How do you know it was me?" I asked, desperately waiting for an answer. Did she remember that, did she remember the kiss?

" Because there is no way Eddie could carry my ass down the hallway." She laughed.

" You would be shocked , he is surprisingly strong for being so scrawny."

She smiled at me again. " Thank you again, Steve, you were so kind. I promise from now on I won't drink more then two glasses of wine."

" I have dealt with worse believe me." I picked up the muffin off the plate." It's warm."

" I made them fresh this morning, to thank you."

" What time did you get up?"

" Early."

I took a bite and moaned, " Chocolate chip? This is amazing.The chips are still melted." I closed my eyes and savored the bite.

"You guys having a party in here and forgot to invite me? "

My eyes popped open and Eddie strolled in, wearing his flannel robe and flannel pajama pants. Thank god he was awake enough to remember to put on some clothes, although he has been good about not walking around bare ass since Mac moved in. " What are you doing up so early?"

" I got a waft of something delicious coming from the kitchen earlier. Did you make this?" Eddie picked up my muffin and took a bite. He had no boundaries.

" Hey, that was mine!"

"Fuuck, this is good. Wow." He said mouth full." So, you can make these anytime."

She smiled." I'll barter, muffins for hugs."

"Sounds like a deal to me." Eddie smiled.

I rolled my eyes." I will hug you for free."

" Awww-"

" You haven't had an Eddie Munson hug yet." Eddie handed me back the half eaten muffin then opened his arms wide." Come here Sweetheart, you want a hug, I'll give you a fucking hug."

I groaned." Why are you so competitive about everything?"

Mackenzie laughed." I don't know, Steve is the best I have ever had."

I smiled widely." Put that in your pipe and smoke it Munson."

" I prefer weed in my pipe, thank you very much. " Eddie smiled." Come here Darlin, don't be afraid, I am the King of cuddles."

Mackenzie smirked and raised her eyebrow." Says the man with handcuffs hanging from his headboard? That doesn't scream warm and fuzzy to me."

I laughed and watched as Eddie was waved his hand. " Pff, that's behind closed doors Eddie you don't have to worry about him Cupcake. Come here."

I watched her get up from my bed and fall into his arms. He folded her in ,pulling her close. I watched as she buried her face in his chest.Why the fuck did my stomach clench at the sight of them. Eddie was my boy, Mac wasn't mine. He rocked her side to side.

Mackenzie sighed, pulling away." Who needs a boyfriend when I have you guys.”

As always thank you for reading❤️ Comments and Re-blogs warm my ❤️ !

Thank you!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington smut

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backtraf · 1 year

Note

you could say it's a prompt, but if not, know your writing keep smile on my face 😚 I strongly believe that Kelvin keeps oldschool vinyl record player at his place, but since his hearing got worse after the crash he forgot about it. at the same time I am also convinced that if somebody asked him for a dance to sinatra's "strangers in the night" he wouldn't say no. happy tears commence. please 🙏

With Kelvin's love for music, of course he would have an old-school vinyl record player!

Kelvin and Tim were busy for the last few weeks clearing out Kelvin's old apartment. Tim used his pickup to haul a lot of the things that weren't too big, but still big enough not to go in boxes. He came across an old vinyl player, and he grabbed a nearby cloth, wiping the dust off the top and the side knobs. He smiled lightly and lifted the lid.

A record was was still sitting in the player, forgotten. A layer of dust, lighter than the one on the outside had been, coated the record. Tim blew on it gently, watching the dust fly up and off of it. With great care, he lifted it from the table and examined it. It was a Frank Sinatra album, and Tim smiled.

Memories of Kelvin subjecting the unit to songs like New York or Fly Me to the Moon surfaced, and he couldn't help but feel bittersweet about it. He remembered one song in particular that he sometimes played. What had it been?

He looked at the songs on this particular record, and none of them rang a bell, so he found its sleeve and carefully put it away before looking at the shelf that housed all of Kelvin's records. He gently looked through the stack, marveling at how old some of them had to be before he came across another Frank Sinatra album.

He pulled it out and scanned the songs, finding the one he had been looking for. Strangers in the Night. He placed the record on top of the player and scooped it up into his arms. He'd come for the rest of the records later.

He passed through the kitchen and paused at the door, calling out, "Robby, I'm gonna head home and drop off what I've got in my truck!"

"I'll be here." Kelvin called back.

Tim quickly walked out and placed the player in his passenger seat before sliding the vinyl itself carefully next to his seat. When he got back home, he took them in first, placing the player in a corner of the room where Kelvin would not be able to see it if he walked in and gently placed the record onto the turntable.

Taking a moment, he tested it to make sure it still worked and smiled when it began to play the first song. He let the record play until the song before the one he wanted ended and stopped the player, closing it gently and running to unpack the rest of his truck. He headed back to Kelvin's apartment and finished up for the day, ready to relax at home.

Kelvin collapsed on the couch, the stress of packing up his apartment wearing him down mentally. Tim opened the player back up and got the record moving again, the song 'Strangers in the Night' beginning to play. Kelvin opened his eyes, confused, to see Tim standing above him with his hand extended to him.

"Care for a dance?"

Kelvin stared at his hand before taking it, being hauled up by Tim. He began to move Kelvin around slowly, swaying to the music.

"You found my vinyl player..?" The confusion was starting to wear off, and he suddenly recognized the song, feeling tears slowly fill his eyes. "You remembered this song? Out of all my records?"

"Hard to forget something when it involves you." Tim murmured in his ear, causing a shudder to go through Kelvin's spine.

He pressed his face into Tim's shoulder and let him lead the dance, sniffling every now and then. Tim was perfect, and he was all Kelvin's.

#sons of the forest #sotf #sotf kelvin #the forest #tim sotf #sotf fanfic #sotf fanfiction #sotf tim x kelvin

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caramel1mochi · 8 months

Text

Beau Idéal [Chamber x F! Reader] [4]

Heya! We're BACK!!

Trust me, this time I'm not rabbiting about nothing, I have something important to say!

Whenever the mirrors are referred to, their names are italicised, if that makes sense. For example, Neon is ours while Neon is theirs.

I can't explain anything well today since I'm pretty dizzy but you'll see when you read it, have a good one!

❤ฺ·。

Chamber x F! Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Genre: Fluff, but only if you squint really hard.

CW: Emotional manipulation, mental warfare, Geneva convention? Who's she?

Synopsis: Behind his poise façade lies an ocean of inhuman thoughts. This is the first time Chamber let his mask slip. And unfortunately, as the only witness; you happen to have a front-row seat.

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

Chamber followed on his promise and worked to turn the outer layer of your arms into clay. It took some time, and it still broke apart whenever you’d shoot any weapon with heavy recoil like the Vandal, Phantom, and… pretty much everything except for the few that he laid on a table for you. With a few options, you had to pick only two.

In the end, you settled for the Stinger and the Ghost. You never relied on your aim, anyway, as making walls or shaking up the land required both hands. And surprisingly, your arms never broke apart using those two weapons. Not at first, anyway.

And there you were, having boarded the VLT/R with a few other agents, including your friends, Jett and Raze, waiting excitedly for what the Frenchman had in store for you. But one thing tugged at the back of your mind; growing more and more prevalent the closer you were to your destination.

Eventually, once they stopped the conversation, you approached Chamber and quickly spoke up.

“So, you gonna tell me the plan yet?”

“Ah, I find that experience is the best teacher.”

“Awesome! What does that mean?”

As you talked, the exit slid open, your colleagues jumping off of the vehicle.

“It means that I will be giving you orders as we go.”

“Wait, what? But–”

“Tick tock, A/N. Time is running out.”

Chamber ushered you to jump off with the others with a friendly pat on your back, unintentionally adding more pressure onto your shoulders. So, without much choice, you complied. You both jumped off and went to your respective sites.

❤ฺ·。

Split.

Swell place. Friendly neighbourhood, good shops, pleasant view. One small issue; it was a warzone.

And today’s mission had been a merciless one; the mirrors' strong and coordinated push onto B site forcing your own colleagues back as the rest rushed to provide support.

Given that you and Chamber had separate sites, this was the first time in the entire mission that you two had seen each other. And his presence was a welcome one.

But now, you were all on one site, but he kept you from jumping down alongside your co-workers in favour of having a birds-eye view over on tower. There, you could see the struggle your friends had, only three of them spread out across one side of the site whilst five, grouped together, were able to triumph and have as much space as they wanted.

You met Chamber’s gaze, who looked down on them with his brows furrowed. It looked like he barely considered the urgency of the situation.

“Look at them. Close together, stuck on one side. Only with more numbers will they be packed like sardines.”

He referred to the mirrors. But by the tone of his voice, it sounded like he was talking to himself.

“So, should we help out?”

“Not yet.”

He pointed at the side the mirrors stood on. A doorway behind them, one that led to alley, completely in their favour.

“We need to consider this. Easy exit, guarded by nobody.”

“Awesome, I can block it!”

For a few seconds, Chamber said nothing, looking down at everyone as they fought for their lives. If it weren’t for his hopelessly empty expression, you could at least tell what was going on in that mind of his. But naught was said.

You flinched when he suddenly pointed to the wall Sage had put up, watching cracks in it form and it slowly began to break apart.

“Go around and keep them contained. On my command, you will swarm them with a mound of dirt.”

With a nod, you held your Stinger close and jumped off to help them out.

Just as you landed, you found your familiar Korean friend, a smile on her face, despite the situation.

“Yo, bestie, what’s the plan?”

“We gotta keep them trapped in the middle. The others have one side, we should take this one.”

She nodded, before pointing at back-site.

“What about that? I saw Breach there earlier. Want me to smoke it off for you?”

“Um… no, I’m good. I’ll– I have an idea, I’ll take care of it.”

You didn’t want to outright tell her you were taking orders from Chamber. If you were surprised at the contingency of him befriending Fade, then she’d definitely react as surprised as you did.

And with a nod, she thankfully got to work, shooting a few bullets which alerted them and successfully pushed a few of them back. But still, they were wary of Chamber’s line of sight.

Then, the radio cracked, his familiar voice taking over your ears.

‘A/N, gather your soil. Top right corner of back-site. Make it a good one.’

You unmuted.

‘Gotcha.’

Taking a safe position behind the massive pillar, you clasped your hands together and began summoning piles and piles of dirt. With the position being at a corner, you were easily able to form a massive mound before any one of them took notice. Jett covered your side during the process. And for a few seconds, she was unaware of what you were doing exactly, until she finally saw the forming hill. Once she was alerted of its presence, so were they. But you couldn’t hear her once Chamber called out,

‘Now, towards the alley!’

He commanded.

Like a tsunami, the swarm of dirt completely covered back-site, took over half of the site and rammed against a few of the mirrors. It pushed and disoriented the ones who were close to it, but the rest rushed out of its way. Unintentionally, they exposed their position to both those who covered your back and… The loud bang of Chamber’s weapon took over everyone’s ears, snapping you from your trance and allowing the dirt to fall flat against the ground, remaining debris floating in the air.

‘Did I get them?’

‘Quite so. Now, come back to me, let the rest take care of the site.’

Though you were incredibly proud of what you’d just done, something other than your repetitive walls, you couldn’t celebrate just yet.

You quickly glanced at Jett who stood right in front of you in the pillar as she reloaded her weapon; then the rest who covered the other side. They seemed to be holding their own well enough, right? With no time to waste, you quickly rushed to tower, meeting Chamber.

“Wonderful. Come, we have to get to A before they do.”

And just as he said that, he hid his Tour de Force, both of you running towards said site.

“Wait, wait, why’re we switching?”

“You managed to bury one of them, and two escaped through alley like I suspected. We need to catch up before they plant.”

Bury?! You paused, before shaking your head.

“Uh– shouldn’t we be, shouldn’t we tell Brim? He’s right behind us!”

“Non, non. I have a better idea.” <No, no.>

And just like that, he fell into silence, not sharing what he had in his mind. It left you uneasy, but you turned your eyes back on your path.

Not only did his sudden silence leave you feeling dreadful, but also what he said. You buried one of them. Alive. Whoever it was, they definitely suffocated by now, and just imagining what they felt during the process– it… it didn’t bode well for you.

Seconds must’ve felt like minutes as the only thing that entered their nostrils were solid particles. And you were the cause for their slow death.

#valorant #x reader #fanfiction #chamber x reader #valorant fanfiction #valorant oneshots #chamber #female reader #chamber x f reader #chamber x female reader #valorant chamber #valorant x reader #valorant imagines #vincent fabron #valorant chamber x reader #valorant chamber x f reader

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malevolantkitcheen · 29 days

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hai!! I saw you're JJK match works and they are really good so if they're still open I thought i could make a request? she/they (female) | Leo | ENFP bisexual so men or women is fine I don't really have preference Looks wise, I'm pretty tall around 165 cm, tan, dark brown eyes and short dark brown hair (I think the best way to explain my hair cut is like a wolf cut but not that many layers?), I'd say I'm thin and kinda flat, my hands are kinda veiny and my nails are uneven since I tend to cut them when I'm nervous Personality wise, I'm very extroverted so much so that I get energy from being around people I like, especially people I consider close friends (I'm an only child so sometimes I wish I had a sibling). I'm also very friendly I love making friends and I'd say I'm very loyal too I just like talking to people in general. I can also get a bit overwhelming for some people which I totally understand I'm the type of girl who flirts with her girl friends and teases them constantly but I also get really flustered when someone teases me. I don't like some people though and If I don't like someone I can get really rude and moody but I'm also really moody if I'm just not in the mood sometimes I tend to lash out at people but I feel really bad after. I also end up crushing on the worst people I've never been in an actual real relationship so I just crush on people for some drama in my life. Hobby wise, I'm a music girl I play guitar, piano, kalimba, ukulele, and I sing (I'm also currently learning how to play bass) I'm actually a lead singer in a band. I'm also interested in art, video editing, coding and gaming. Subject wise I like math physics chemistry and computer but they can get kind of stressful at times. I also love dressing up and buying random merch and cute things I've always wanted to cosplay and my clothing style changes every day I'm also a really big jewellery person and i love collecting fun earrings and stationary. Thank you I'm sorry if it's a bit too much hope you have a good day!! <3

For Jujutsu-Kaisen, i match you with

Yuji Itadori

(male match, send in a nother request if you would like a female match too! I am more than happy to do both! <3)

- At first, Yuji came across as relatively awkward, especially around you. He would mainly stick to following Megumi and Nobara around, but the two of you would share occasionally glances from time to time. He was hesitant to come and talk to you but you made it clear very quickly that you were far from intimidating. It took little to no time for you two to find things in common because as soon as you would find a topic of conversation, Yuji would let his words run away with him. At times he wasn’t a great listener due to the fact he was a little bit of a motor mouth when he got comfortable with his friends, but he would always realise eventually and be extremely apologetic, which you found adorable. Despite his very vocal opinions, he loved listening to you talking about almost anything and everything; he found you fascinating.

- At times you would worry that you were getting on his nerves because you were getting carried away with the conversation, but Yuji would always reassure you that it was more than okay and that you were simply just really interested in whatever you were talking about. You loved this about him because most people would get frustrated and just stop listening all together. He just truly understood you. Of course there were still some occasions where you would be a little off, especially if you hadn’t had the greatest of days. At first, Yuji didn’t really know what to do because he hadn’t been in these kinds of situations, more so because he didn’t want to upset you any further. However, it didn’t take him very long to figure out what the best ways to help you were, even it just meant sitting in comfortable silence with you, so you knew that he was there if you needed anything.

- Sometimes, Yuji would feel as though you weren’t interested in him as you would bring up other people on occasions, of course you weren’t doing this maliciously, but it still made him a little bit doubtful at times. Despite this, he was determined to stay by your side no matter what because you truly meant everything to him. He hadn’t really made any advancements towards you romantically but he didn’t really hide his feelings very well because much like you, he got flustered extremely easily and even just being around you would often make him smile and blush.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #fanfic #jjk matchups #matchups #commission #yuji itadori #jjk yuji #anime and manga #cute

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denimbex1986 · 2 months

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'In order for you not to feel anything from All of Us Strangers, you almost have to suffer from chronic apathy - or a coma. It's rarely classy to casually praise a film unless it actually deserves it, but All of Us Strangers demands praise. The director behind the film is Andrew Haigh (Weekend) who probably reached his creative peak with this film. If not, a bright future awaits.

The plot follows the reclusive TV scriptwriter Adam , played by the brilliant Andrew Scott , who lives a reclusive and rather lonely existence in London. After meeting their drunken neighbor Harry, portrayed by Paul Mescal , they begin a passionate relationship. Adam also encounters visions of his dead parents, played by Jamie Bell and Claire Foy , and relives moments from his past in his old childhood home.

The visions of his parents make Adam question whether several events or happenings in his life are merely a product of his imagination or actual reality.

The moment of redemption – the relief of reconciliation

The film deals with so many layers of the human nature that it almost feels overwhelming to untangle. Adam's loneliness and the raw questions surrounding his sexuality, along with the childhood trauma he experienced following the tragic death of his parents, result in many pieces of his emotional puzzle still missing. He seems to live in a constant limbo between his past and the ability to move on.

The scenes where Adam tentatively seeks absolution and comfort from his parents in his childhood home are both heartfelt and fragile. Everything that Adam experienced during his upbringing and in his adult life, the absence of his parents, he now seeks their understanding and blessing for.

The redemptive moments when Adam reunites with both his parents in understanding and forgiveness are a cinematic primordial force. The parents' inadequacy and misunderstanding of Adam's person at a young age is gradually sorted out, and as an audience you desperately hope that it will result in a satisfying climax.

At one point, Adam apologizes for constantly waking his mother every night to sleep in his parents' bed, to which his mother says – I'm sorry I didn't enjoy you driving me crazy.

In another strong scene, the family celebrates Christmas together. When the song "Always on my mind" plays, the mother and father spontaneously start singing along and quickly realize that the lyrics reflect their feelings and flaws towards Adam - a scene as beautiful as it is thought-provoking.

Two lonely souls – each other's medicine

The love story with Harry feels completely uncontrived, genuinely passionate and clinically pure. The line "I'll protect you from the hooded claw, keep the vampires from your door" from the song "Power of Love" by Frankie Goes to Hollywood is played when Adam and Harry first meet, and reappears later in the film. Harry symbolizes the piece that Adam is missing in his happiness puzzle and the power that protects him from that which saps him of joy and happiness.

Both Harry and Adam are two lonely individuals who are in equal need of each other's company and love in order to find belonging.

The film touches on many aspects of life that ordinary people reflect on all the time. The ability to dare to let someone into your life and let this person help you, love you and challenge you. No one wants to go through life and only be a stranger to their surroundings. Interactions with strangers can be paths to self-realization and personal growth if we only learn to open our hearts and minds to the unknown.

The acting performances, script work, music score – yes the whole movie overall, leaves me with a feeling of gratitude as I leave the theater. A few times in my life, this feeling has appeared after a visit to the cinema. To be able to experience this from time to time is a blessing - so a standing ovation from me, thank you.

#Andrew Scott #Andrew Haigh #All of Us Strangers #Weekend #Paul Mescal #Claire Foy #Jamie Bell #Always on My Mind #Pet Shop Boys #Frankie Goes to Hollywood #The Power of Love

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myreia · 10 months

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wip whenever except it's not a line

I got a little too invested in writing Thancred and Urianger banter and now I have +3000 words of it. 😔 I don't know when I will be able to finish this chapter (it's the second in a 5-parter that isn't posted yet), but I want to share what I have been working on so, I'm dropping half of it here and running.

Unedited and spoilers for Shadowbringers base game.

untitled chapter two

Thancred exhales a long sigh and folds his arms, shifting idly from foot to foot. Despite the thick layers of his overcoat, he can feel the brick wall pressing uncomfortably into his back. The price to pay for his position. He didn’t arrive at the Wandering Stairs with the intention to lurk in the shadows—if anything, he wanted to ask Glynard for a pint of his finest—but old habits die hard. Even in the midst of what could easily be described as a world-wide celebration, an event the likes of which the Crystarium has never seen, he still found himself seeking out an advantageous spot. From here, he has a full view of the tavern and the markets beyond and can easily pick his friends out in the crowd.

Not that he thinks the others can’t look after themselves. But he has seen festivities go awry before and even here, even now, with the enemy defeated and the night sky returned, he cannot shake the need to stay on guard.

Ryne has already gently chastised him for it. Gods know what Aureia will say when she finds him. Or Urianger—

“I see thou hast returned to thy usual proclivities. Not unlike a moth drawn unto flame.”

Thancred closes his eyes. Well, that didn’t last long.

He opens his eyes and spots Urianger cutting a clear path across the tavern, a head and shoulders above most of the patrons. His pace is even and relaxed, as though a great weight has been lifted from him, and he carries a glass of wine and a tankard in his hands.

“And here I thought tonight’s events would be reason enough to lay off on the undeserved commentary,” Thancred shoots back, eyeing him as he draws up beside him. “I don’t see why it’s necessary to insult my character like this.”

“Insult? Nay, my friend. Tis simple observation. But if thou dost crave stringent lectures from an e’er sharp tongue, Y’shtola’s company will suffice.”

“Oh, daring to bring Y’shtola into this now, are we? Very brave of you. Tell me, have you had much to drink this fine evening? I seem to recall you being something of a lightweight. Perhaps that explains it.”

Urianger chortles. They exchange grins, far too entertained by this simple back-and-forth that has become a permanent part of their camaraderie. Without a word, he thrusts the tankard into Thancred’s hands and tips him his own in a silent salute.

Thancred murmurs his thanks, absently wrapping his fingers around the handle as he searches the tavern for Y’shtola. From the prickle on the back of his neck, he would prefer if she didn’t overhear that last bit of their conversation lest they never hear the end of it. Thankfully, last he saw her, she was deep in a spirited argument with Moren—and he wasn’t entirely sure who was winning.

Urianger sips at his drink, a blissfully content expression on his face. “Ryne hast outdone herself,” he says, nodding to the garlands decorating the windows and wrapped around the wrought-iron railings. “Truthfully, her enthusiasm hath struck me with some surprise. Ne’er did I anticipate such an ardent desire to participate in such things, but mayhap I underestimated the breadth of her interests.”

Thancred smiles. “I daresay she has a talent for it. And for worming her way into others’ hearts.”

The truth of the matter is that neither of them expected Ryne to throw herself so whole-heartedly into the planning stages of the festivities. They had scarcely returned from the Tempest triumphant and she was already tracking down Lyna, demanding to know how she could help. Considering how little time they have spent in the Crystarium on the whole, it took him by surprise at how quickly she found her footing here.

And it’s hard not to wonder whether it would have happened sooner if not for him. The Exarch had given them accommodations, yes, but just as Urianger flocked to Il Mheg and Y’shtola ingratiated herself in Slitherbough, he did not see much reason to remain. His hunt for sin eaters took him clear across Norvrandt, a duty that did not cease even after he spirited Ryne away from Eulmore. He dragged her everywhere. Training her. Protecting her.

And all but suffocating her spirit.

He grimaces at the memory. That Ryne saw fit to forgive him when he can scarcely forgive himself… It speaks volumes about the kind of person she is. The one she will grow to be.

“We really should have known better,” he adds after a moment. “Once she sets her sights on a matter, there’s no stopping her.”

Urianger raises an eyebrow. “Indeed,” he says soberly, lowering his wine. “And thy pride in her is more than palpable.”

“Am I proud…?” He chuckles, shaking his head at himself. “Yes. I suppose I am.”

“Then why dost though linger, Thancred? If I may—and no, I must insist thou resist the temptation to interrupt and heed mine words for the duration of this moment—when I didst speak with Ryne earlier this eve, I sensed some disappointment that thou hast withdrawn unto the outskirts. I am uncertain what she envisioned for tonight, but to remain uninvolved and standing on the fringes mayhap communicates to her that thou dost not share in her excitement.”

“It is not that, let me assure you! And you’re one to talk. I haven’t seen you partaking in the festivities either. Have you considered that Ryne may be just as disappointed in you as she is in me—”

“I have been contending with Feo Ul’s most gracious of ambassadors—”

“Of course you have—”

“—who are—it is paramount to note—little scoundrels.”

“Urianger, you do realize that the day will come when you will not have pixies to use as an excuse?”

“Aye. But the day when our massy souls depart the First to return to their vessels upon the Source is not yet upon us. There is much to be done beforehand to ensure safe passage from one world to the next.”

Ugh. Thancred’s shoulders slump. “Please, I am begging you, never use the word massy like that again. Or refer to our bodies as vessels, for that matter.”

Urianger smiles serenely and tips his wine glass to him.

He sighs and scratches the back of his neck, shaking his head. “Perhaps I should clarify. It is not that I have no desire to partake, but rather that my head still spins from all we’ve accomplished. What we bore witness to. As detestable Emet-Selch and his whole rotten ilk are… I cannot so easily forget what we saw in Amaurot. And—gods damn it, I cannot believe I am saying this about an Ascian—perhaps I do understand something of him after all. That desperation to cling to what you loved… to what was lost…”

“The horrors of that bygone era hath given us much to ponder, ‘tis true,” Urianger says gently. “Thou art not alone in thine preoccupation. There are many questions whose answers may be forever beyond our knowing. Mayhap they will haunt us for the remainder of our days—or perchance we will expose their anagogic secrets. For now, that fate remains unknown. But it does not behoove us to indulge in such preoccupations on an eve such as this one, and so it is my turn to beg something of thee. Set aside the temptation to linger on it for the duration of tonight. There will be sufficient time for that anon.”

“I know.”

“Look to thy loved ones. This time is for them and them alone.”

“I am. I do. And you do know you’re included in that, Urianger—”

“I do not speak of myself and thou knowest that plainly.”

Thancred pauses, a lump forming in his throat. Much like Y’shtola, Urianger has a way of striking through to the heart of the matter—even when it takes him twelve sentences to get there when one would suffice.

Beyond the Wandering Stairs, Ryne dashes across the Quadrivium’s lawns, immersing herself in the festivities. Whether it’s youth or enthusiasm or a combination of both, her boundless energy cannot be contained. A remarkable change from the quiet, shy girl she had been when called Minfilia. Thinking back now, perhaps the seeds had always been there—she had merely needed the opportunity to let them grow. There was a time when she would never have dared to go anywhere without him, though it occurs to him now that it may have been out of fear of his reaction rather than any hesitation on her part.

The guilt strikes without warning, a restless, twisting knot at the core of his heart. Some days it’s difficult not to wonder whether he really is all that better than Ran’jit. Aureia had once raked him over the coals for his behaviour, which, thinking back, was wholly deserved. She has never been afraid to speak her mind where he is concerned, something which he is grateful for. Somehow, she is always the one who can knock sense into him when he needs it the most.

He turns, instinctively searching for her. She winds her way through the tavern with her usual quiet intensity. Her unnaturally pale hair shines in the soft lights, making it easy to pick her out of the crowd. She stops here and there, greeting friends and acquaintances, wishing them well. Even from a distance he can see the way her eyes light up, the content smile on her face, the sheer exuberant joy she embodies. She has been through so much these past few months—more than he can even begin to understand—but every trial she has faced has only served to make her stronger.

They still haven’t spoken of what happened that day on the blistering hot sands of Amh Araeng. He remembers all too well the look she gave him when he ordered her to take Ryne and leave him behind. She isn’t a fool; she must have felt the parallels, that sense of déjà vu, as clearly as he did—back to a day long ago in the waterways beneath Ul’dah.

He had stubbornly insisted on remaining behind, standing his ground, placing his trust in her to protect Minfilia while they made their escape. It was a situation that left them with too little time and far too much was left unspoken. He should have said something then—gods know he should have—but he did not, and that regret has been a constant companion. She changed in those intervening years, moving on and discovering love in places far from him. What could have been, if he had only swallowed his pride and his hesitation?

The irony isn’t lost on him that, years later, they would find themselves in similar circumstances. On another world, in a reflection of Thanalan, protecting another Minfilia. But Ran’jit gave them no time—no time for confessions, no time for final words. He was prepared to die for them. He very nearly did. Had Urianger and Alphinaud not arrived sooner, he would have passed from this world, happy knowing that they made it in the end, that Minfilia—that Ryne—was safe in Aureia’s hands, that he did all he could to protect them both.

And she would never know.

She would never…

You must tell her. No more doubt. No more hesitation.

Aureia laughs, the warmth of her voice carrying over the buzz of a hundred voices. Her head turns, and, for the briefest of moments, her ruby eyes connect with his. She smiles—a tiny, private smile—and his heart melts. He can’t take his eyes off her.

If you don’t tell her tonight, I will throttle you.

“Thou hast been swept away on the tides of idle contemplation for nary a minute.”

Thancred blinks, dragging himself out of his thoughts, and finds Urianger watching him with an amused expression on his face. “Am I not allowed a moment to think?” he says sarcastically.

Urianger gives him an uncharacteristic shrug and nurses his wine. “Nay. ‘Tis an observation of mine that thou dost think too much.”

He sighs and passes his tankard to his other hand. By some miracle he hasn’t indulged in it yet. “I must be getting old. I certainly feel the years these days.”

“Aye. Perchance I have spotted a grey hair or two. Or more.”

“Is that so? And here I was hoping you would tell me otherwise. I suppose it was too much to count on you for emotional support.”

Urianger regards him, a serious look in his eye. “Thou knowest the truth of that, my friend.”

He smiles. “Indeed. I do.”

The conversation stills. He pauses, shifting as he adjusts his position against the wall, and allows his gaze to wander. He lingers on Aureia, captivated by the way she lights up the room, and finally raises the tankard to his lips.

The fresh—and noticeably non-alcoholic—taste of water takes him by surprise. He coughs, startled, and nearly spits it out. Urianger watches him, an amused smile on his face, and raises an eyebrow, daring him to say something.

“You really have no faith in me, do you?” Thancred grumbles.

“Just as our souls have transcended time and space, so too has thine reputation for drink and revelry.”

“But I—”

“Does thou require a list to refresh the annals of thine memory? I am happy to oblige. Shalt I commence with an illustrious history from the halcyon days of our youth in Sharlayan? Or mayhap I shouldst direct our collective remembrance to thine era of self-proclaimed bardship. I recall thine attempts to woo many a fair maiden through poetry and song, and remain impressed that thine talents ensnared a number greater than one.”

He splutters. “See, now—”

“Quiet though I may have been in both the Waking Sands and the Rising Stones, reclusive I was not. I remember an assortment of drunken conquests with the likes of Ibrella and Ysera, Joyse and Sigberta, Q’thena, R’zhocri—”

“All right, all right! I see your point. You don’t need to badger on. Gods, Ibrella was years ago. I barely remember her, so how do you?”

“Thou shouldst know better than to underestimate that my mind is of a most eidetic nature.”

“Fine. I don’t deny that I may have indulged in certain… habits in the past. I won’t excuse myself for ignoring my troubles by distracting myself with… Well. Let’s not linger on it. But you are wrong on one account. It wasn’t only fair maidens.”

Urianger catches his eye and chuckles, a knowing smile on his lips. He raises his glass, leaving Thancred to stew in his mortification while he savours his drink.

Thancred sets his water aside and folds his arms. Aureia has worked her way across the tavern, edging ever closer to his position. But for every step she takes, two or more celebrators catch her attention and draw her aside, eager to personally congratulate her. She has never enjoyed attention like this, thinking little of the fame her deeds as the Warrior of Light accrued. But Norvrandt is not the Source. There are no adoring devotees begging for an interaction, no hordes of aggressive reporters seeking the latest gossip, no military officers or government leaders making unwanted demands of her.

It is simpler here. More personal. Perhaps because she recognizes the faces in the crowd, she speaks to them as herself—as Aureia—rather than as a legendary Warrior of Darkness.

“I see you have taken it upon yourself as a personal challenge to embarrass me,” he says finally, his gaze still lingering on her. Her smile brightens as she takes the young adventurer boy—Taynor, was his name?—aside, offering quiet words of guidance. She has always had a connection to young mages. Perhaps it’s because she sees something of herself in them; or perhaps it is out of a need to offer them the guidance and support she so sorely lacked in her own childhood. “Is this what wine does to you now?”

“Nay.”

“Nay? That’s it? Nay?”

“Nay.”

Thancred’s eyes narrow. “Who are you and what have you done with Urianger?”

Urianger chuckles. Tilting his head back, he finishes off his glass and sets it on a nearby table. “I simply intended to remind thee that thy priorities lie in a place far different than they once did,” he says gently. “Thou hast grappled with many a dark turn in the past, soothing numbing despair with empty pleasures. I do not envy the journey thou hast partaken since Louisoix’s passing—”

He exhales a faint breath and closes his eyes. It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?

“—and I am proud of thee. For all thou hast accomplished. And for what thou wilt in the future.”

There’s a raw lump in his throat and it’s getting harder to ignore. “If you’re concerned about me backsliding, there is little risk of that now,” he says. “Or… I hope there isn’t. As you said yourself, my priorities have changed. For the better. And if you wouldn’t mind, I would prefer if we dropped this train of thought. I would rather not have Aureia—or Ryne, for that matter—overhear this conversation. They certainly don’t need to be exposed to a list of my… er… conquests, as you so delicately put it.”

Urianger raises an eyebrow.

He flushes. “Oh, don’t look at me that way. Aureia knows my history all too well.”

Gods know she does. Though it has been some nine years—for him, at least, the misaligned time between the Source and the First makes his headache when he thinks about it too much—he can still feel the sharp twist of remorse when he thinks about those months in Ishgard. How easy it was to indulge in drink and sex to hide from truths he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge. He knew what he was doing when he ended up with Hilda, her closest friend, that night—and many nights afterwards. He knew how it would hurt her.

And, in that moment, he didn’t care.

By rights she should never have forgiven him.

“So, yes. I am certain she remembers how much of a fool I’ve been. How much of one I still am.”

Across the way, Aureia bids goodbye to Taynor and catches his eye. He shifts his weight as he watches her approach, struck by sudden uncertainty as she moves closer with every step. When he considers what to say to her, somehow there are both a thousand things and absolutely nothing.

Desperately searching for some point of conversation, he latches onto something Urianger said earlier. “What did you mean by self-proclaimed bardship earlier?” he says. “You make it sound like I’m some amateur.”

“And thou art not?”

“I—”

“I have yet to see thee touch an instrument or pen and perform a song. Thine aptitude for stealth and espionage is not conducive to such merriment.”

“That doesn’t mean anything! Many people have conflicting aspects to their character. Simply because you have framed yourself as a master of prophecy and not much else doesn’t mean we all should subscribe to a singular facet.”

“I did not say as much. I merely implied that thine current capacity for poetry and song dost not harken to the title of bard.”

“You make me sound like the most amateur of amateurs—”

“What’s going on here?”

Aureia draws up before them, dark red eyes passing from Thancred to Urianger and back again. A muscle twitches in her cheek, as if she is holding back a laugh.

“Urianger is of the opinion that I am not a bard,” Thancred says quickly, eyeing his friend.

She blinks and folds her arms, a perplexed expression on her face. “Thancred, I know plenty of bards—”

He raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

“You are not one of them.”

#ffxiv #ffxiv fic #wip #aureia malathar #release me from my work schedule so i can get back to this #writing tag

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guitars-and-kaleidoscope-eyes · 4 months

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Here Today

Chapter Eleven: Roll Over Beethoven