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theladyofbloodshed · 11 months

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Fake Dating AU - Part 2/3

This was nice. Nesta could manage this – a pool in the blistering heat with a book in her hand. It was the beach she did not like. The sand got everywhere. Sea salt made her hair dry and brittle. And she did not want to think about how many fish brushed past her legs.

Rather than rushing in at the last second, Nesta had opted for an earlier flight to the others since she was coming from further afield on a job. She’d finished her work up on the plane, so had a few hours of blissful silence. The others were coming much later. She knew because Feyre had asked if they wanted to travel to the airport together. That was code for Feyre needing backup managing Nyx on the lengthy flight. Whilst Nesta loved her nephew dearly, the idea of a squealing child soiling their diaper for hours beside her in a contained space did not spark any joy. Mom and dad could handle that one.

Nesta lay on a sun lounger beneath a tree that shaded everything except her legs. It was dangerous territory to get a tan two days before Elain’s wedding. She didn’t want tan lines or sun burn spoiling the photos as an everlasting memory of her pale skin being subjected to sunlight for once.

Deep into her book, a child splashed her foot. She ignored it until it happened again and again and again.

Forcing out a breath, Nesta forcibly pressed her book down beside her.

‘Do you mind?’

It wasn’t a child at all. Stood against the wall of the pool, with his forearms resting on the edge, a familiar face grinned at her. ‘I thought you were deliberately ignoring me.’

‘I was,’ Nesta sniped back.

Eris, Lucien’s eldest brother, gave her a crooked smile. ‘I thought you wanted a date for the wedding.’

‘No splashing and I’ll consider it.’

He hauled himself out of the pool and Nesta could admit that her eyes tracked the bare expanse of his chest and stomach. His body was lean, the shoulders beginning to freckle from the sun. There was something about hairy legs, slick with water, that also always drew Nesta’s attention too.

Eris pointed to the spare lounger beside her. ‘Do you mind if I move my things beside you?’

‘Sure.’

For a while, they caught up on the last few months. Eris remained a workaholic, just as she did, and his phone beeped constantly with pictures of his dogs who a generous friend was taking care of while he was at the wedding. She filled him in on her life which lasted all of two minutes. She hadn’t seen Feyre or Elain since the engagement party. Work remained hectic, taking her to every corner of the country, usually in quick succession. And that was about it.

‘Why didn’t you fly in with Lucien?’

‘He’s coming with Elain,’ explained Eris. A slight blush stole across his cheeks. ‘And my father wouldn’t be caught dead flying with the commoners so he chartered a private jet – and let’s just say I’m a little spoilt.’

'A private jet? Ugh. So spoilt. Where are your parents?’

Nesta craned her neck to sweep the various loungers for a number of red heads, but came up short.

‘He will probably burst into flame if he steps into sunlight,’ Eris said with a snort at his own joke. ‘My mother has taken him to a museum which he will also loathe. He’s already complained about the temperature. I almost think Lucien wanted it here in the hope that our father wouldn’t attend.’

For a while, Eris left Nesta to her book while he read his own. She opted for a grizzly horror whilst Eris read a philosophy book that was better suited for swatting mosquitoes. When the heat became too much, Eris leapt back into the pool and did a couple of lengths.

‘You are beginning to resemble a lobster,’ called Nesta.

His feet gave a splash as he dived under and swam back towards her. In another feat of muscle, he launched himself out of the water. Not surprising her, he shook his auburn hair like a dog.

‘Better not ruin the photos.’ A generous amount of sun cream was tipped into his hand then Eris went to work on slathering it over his body.

‘Lean forwards,’ murmured Nesta. She scooted to the edge of her lounger and rubbed the excess cream into his back where his arms couldn’t reach. ‘Turn.’

Eris did an exemplary job of keeping his amber eyes solely on her face – and no lower to her bikini top – while she gently smeared sun cream on his face. The skin on his nose was already pink.

‘Stay in the shade.’

‘Is that an order?’

‘Yes, unless you want to be glowing in the photos.’ She tapped the end of his nose.

Later on, when their stomachs began rumbling, they headed off together in pursuit of food. In the heat, Nesta wanted little more than a salad. When Eris wasn’t acting as her shield against man-child ex-boyfriends, he really was good company. Their conversation flowed easily around work and lack-of-hobbies.

‘I could do with another drink,’ she lamented, back by the pool.

She had drank what felt like gallons of water already that day since the first blast of heat when she stepped off the plane.

‘Ooh. That looks good.’ Nesta pointed to another table where a woman drank something colourful and icy from a tall, wiggly glass.

‘I’ll get it,’ said Eris.

‘No. Allow me. You paid for lunch.’

Eris swept his hand through the air as he made a short bow from his sun lounger.

After many terrible hand gestures, lots of pointing and awful attempts at a foreign language, Nesta trotted back towards him, a glass in each hand. The colours were layered like a rainbow – and she was delighted to sit beside a man who could drink something that wasn’t beer.

‘You’re sure they’re not alcoholic?’

Nesta sniffed her drink. ‘Yeah. Definitely.’

‘You speak Spanish?’

‘No, I took the mocktail menu with me to the bar and pointed and made the shape of the glass. Nobody needs to hear me try and pronounce another language.’

The expression Eris wore suggested he didn’t wholly believe her.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Do you want me to get the bartender?’

‘Then I can use my terrible Spanish to ask? I trust you.’

Eris leaned forwards from his sun lounger to knock their glasses together. Nesta did the same.

‘To the happy couple,’ she said.

Oh, it was delicious. She sucked on the straw until she gave herself brain freeze from the ice which received no sympathy from Eris.

‘Can I ask a personal question, Nesta?’

‘I can’t promise I’ll answer it.’

‘Why don’t you drink?’

Her brows raised and her vision skimmed over the shimmering waves of the pool. ‘I guess when I first moved and got involved with Cassian, drink became the every day activity. I stopped doing things I enjoyed. Spent all my time with them. Wine went down easier and easier and sleep became harder and harder.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m not against ever drinking again, but once I quit drinking with them, it quickly became apparent we had nothing in common. I don’t have any friends so the option is drinking alone or not.’

Eris nodded in understanding. ‘Same here. I’ll probably have a glass of champagne tomorrow, but I was a bit of a tearaway when I was younger. Drank too much and did a lot of silly things. There needs to be a good occasion for it and I’m better at knowing when I’ve had too much now.’

As the afternoon wore on, their conversation became freer and punctuated with giggles.

‘This definitely has alcohol in.’

'It's on the mocktail menu.'

Eris leaned over her to snatch up the menu. 'And on the cocktail menu. With tequila.'

Nesta sucked the last dregs from the bottom of her glass up the straw. ‘Oops. Sorry. Sincerely.’

‘I’m drinking with a friend. It’s a celebration,’ said Eris, giving an easy shrug of his shoulders.

She pressed a hand to her chest. ‘I’m your friend? What an honour!’

Despite the realisation that their fruity, rainbow drinks were not mocktails, they continued to drink. The heat made it worse. The conversation shifted from playful to the realms of discussion that Nesta would never engage in sober. They spoke of ex-lovers, positions they enjoyed in the bedroom, fantasies – inhibitions well and truly out the window as they slurped down more.

Eris closed one eye as he squinted down at the display of his watch. ‘Our dearly beloved siblings should land soon.’

Fantastic, she thought. She’d face a grilling from Cassian about why she chose to drink with Eris, but not him. Morrigan would have something to say – and Rhys too because he couldn’t help himself but pass a comment on Nesta’s life.

‘Then I am going to bed,’ she declared. Nesta pushed off from the sunbed with legs like jelly then staggered a few steps.

Eris let out a soft laugh. ‘Any more staggering and you’d have ended up in the pool. Let’s get you some food.’

He was equally unsteady, but they managed to negotiate for food and make it into the lift. They crashed into each other in the corridor. Their hips and arms bumped as they walked in unsteady lines towards Eris’ room. They collapsed onto the bed to dig into whatever had been deep fried for their meal. She licked the grease off her fingers in between shovelling in mouthfuls; Eris ate with an equal lack of grace like one starved.

When they had finished their food, the television blared out and they remained sprawled together on the bed. A cool wind swept through the open balcony doors as the sun descended for the night. Nesta’s phone flashed a couple of times with messages from Elain then Feyre quizzing on her whereabouts. She replied that an early night was needed and she’d meet them in the morning.

With food in her stomach, Nesta felt a little more sober, but whilst Eris went to shower, she raided the minibar for anything salty that she could find. Eris returned when she had a mouthful of peanuts.

‘Share.’

Nesta covered her mouth so she didn’t spray nuts across the room. ‘There’s chips too.’

‘Daddy dearest is paying the bill. Indulge.’

Nesta had never let herself loose like this, as though she had no manners. Eris didn’t seem to mind either. He was grinning from ear to ear as they sat on the bed, devouring any snack they could get their hands on. She fished in the cup of her bikini for a dropped peanut.

‘What a woman,’ purred Eris from the top of the bed where he languished with a towel around his waist.

She arched a brow. ‘Still want to be my date for this wedding?’

‘All other women are shadows compared to you, Nesta Archeron.’

Eris extended a hand to her which Nesta crawled towards. She collapsed beside him on the bed so their noses brushed. His hand cupped against her hip, drawing her another inch closer. Her fluttering heart made her giddy.

‘Kiss me, Nesta.’

Her chin raised until their lips met. There was nothing hesitant about it. The moment their lips slid over each other, Eris rolled Nesta on top of him. She felt his hardening length through the towel. Her tongue met his as their hands roved over each other’s bodies, hungry for every bare stretch of skin they could gain purchase on.

The string of her bikini was tugged loose so she peeled open the towel from his waist.

They moved down the bed, Nesta turning onto her back as Eris pulled away the last of her clothing.

‘That conversation earlier,’ he grinned. ‘I know every little thing you like.’

Her fingers wound through his auburn hair. ‘Then don’t you dare disappoint me.’

***

At the first slivers of amber light leaking through at dawn, Nesta unpeeled her limbs from Eris, gathered her clothing – a bikini, a sarong, and flip flops – then scurried out of his room.

Nobody was in the corridors, but she still had a strong sense of paranoia that somebody might catch her mid-scandal. It shouldn’t have been a scandal. Both were single and willing – and she certainly had a night like no other. Eris had definitely paid attention to what she had said over their cocktails. But this was not what Nesta Archeron did. She didn’t have one-night stands.

She threw herself into the shower, as if to wash away Eris’ scent from her body then stuck her phone into the charger and flopped onto the bed, hoping to catch a couple of hours sleep in the safety of her own room.

The knock from her sister came too sudden for Nesta, but wedding duties took priority. She tried her best to suppress the exhaustion from a long night being bent over by Elain’s future brother-in-law as she followed her sister down the corridor into her rooms. Not long later, Feyre arrived too in anticipation of a day spent together exploring before the wedding the next day.

Feyre let out a long yawn as she slumped in a chair.

‘Nyx?’ Elain asked over her shoulder at the vanity while she curled her hair.

‘I wish. For once, he slept. I don’t know how. Lucien said his oldest brother has the room next to us. I was ready to kill him last night. He was going at it all night with some floozy. The walls are so thin.’

At her spot by the window, Nesta froze. Heat crept into her cheeks. Oh no.

Elain giggled at Feyre’s admission. ‘The season of love.’

Feyre snorted. ‘It wasn’t love. It was like a pair of wild animals were banging against a wall. All night. At least do it in the bed so I don’t have to hear it.’

‘I forgot something in my room. Back in a moment.’

Nesta excused herself without waiting to hear their replies. Her face was scorching. Oh, this was awful. She really had to pick that man – and this wedding – to have her first ever one-night stand.

‘Hey, Ness.’

‘Oh, not you,’ she sighed in the hallway.

‘Miss you too.’

Cassian wore lurid pink shorts paired with a black vest. His unruly hair had been scraped back into a bun at the nape of his neck. She had forgotten how intimidating he could seem by the way he could loom over everybody.

‘Excuse me.’

Nesta tried to side-step him, but he blocked her pathway.

‘Listen, I thought we could talk. We don’t have to date but we can be friends.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’

He wrung his hands together. ‘I miss you. I miss the old times.’

‘Old times? We were together six months. Look, Cassian, move. I don’t have time for this.’ She pinched her brow then barrelled past him.

This time, he let her go.

***

‘My goodness, how did you ever get your license?’

Nesta clung onto the door handle while Feyre braced herself in the back. Elain ignored her words because she was busy gritting her teeth as they rounded another sharp corner.

They had gone for a breakfast in a small town by the sea that had been recommended to them for its beauty. What the lady on the desk had neglected to tell them was that the idyllic little beachfront restaurant was at the end of one of the most difficult drives they had ever been on. The narrow, winding road was made up of sheer cliffs and dusty stones rolling into their path.

‘At least I have it,’ Elain finally said as the car rolled onto a fairly straight stretch of road.

Feyre made a disgruntled noise. ‘I’ll learn when Nyx is bigger.’

‘Nesta’s driving on the way back. You always say you are the best driver.’

She was, but not when her head was pounding from the amount of alcohol she’d downed yesterday. In response, Nesta grimaced. The car juddered along the rocky path uneasily.

‘I hope we all make it to the wedding,’ quipped Elain as another large stone slipped down from the cliff and into their path that only a harsh stamp on the brake could protect them from.

The restaurant was utterly beautiful, though perhaps not worth nearly dying for. Elain had chosen a table directly in the blazing sunlight so Nesta was powerless to agree. What the bride wanted, she got. Even if Nesta was dying inside the longer she spent in the sun.

‘You look so pale, Nesta.’

‘I’m emotional my little sister is getting married,’ she lied. ‘Oo, chilled water. Hallelujah.’

Food was a challenge. For every nibble she took, Nesta glugged down an entire glass of lemon water to stop her stomach from lurching. Neither sister seemed to notice her struggling, or at least attributed it to the heat when Elain took the floppy sunhat off her own head and plonked into Nesta’s. Feyre prattled on about her son as if he was the first child in existence while Elain babbled about how many children she wanted to have. I’d quite like a nap, she thought.

Excitement came in the form of dolphins breaching the crystalline blue waters near the restaurant. Even Nesta rose from her seat to get a better look and snap a few pictures.

‘That was amazing!’

‘Oh, I wish Nyx had seen,’ lamented Feyre as she scrolled through her photos.

Nesta did the same to see if she had managed any half-decent shots. She swiped through, zooming occasionally. The images of the sea shifted to a bare body. Her bare body. Eris' knees and something else was in the shot. When the video started playing automatically, she locked her phone quicker than she had ever managed before.

‘What was that?’

Nesta blinked. ‘I must have taken a video in my pocket on the plane.’

Her heart was hammering in her chest.

Not only did she decide to have a one-night stand with Eris – but they had filmed it too? The image of herself sprawled out on the bed, a big grin on her face, with Eris kneeling between her legs flashed back into her mind. A sex tape. This was bad. Very bad. Bad with a capital B.

‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,’ murmured Elain, brown eyes catching her own.

No, just myself about to get ploughed, she thought.

Fanning herself for good measure, Nesta said, ‘I’m not used to this heat.’

Their day was busy with exploring local shops and visiting tourist hotspots. She had never sweated so much in her life which couldn’t solely be blamed on the heat. Each time they stopped so that Elain could try on clothes, Nesta bought another bottle of water to hydrate herself which hadn’t gone unnoticed by Feyre.

‘How long until you belong to the sea witch?’

She choked on a mouthful of water. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You’re acting like a mermaid out of water. I didn’t know a person could drink so much water,’ she added. A wicked smile curled Feyre’s lips. ‘If you’re looking for your true love, I’ll let Cass know.’

‘I’d rather drown than ever let him touch me again.’

Feyre pouted. ‘He’s not that bad. He really regrets what happened between you two. Cass was really sad that you’d already gone to bed yesterday.’

‘Feyre, let’s get this straight. I am sweating. My armpits are like a swamp. I am hungover as shit. I am here for Elain’s wedding – not to hook up with anybody. Furthermore, I literally do not give a crap about Cassian or his feelings.’

Her sister heard one part of that. ‘Who were you drinking with last night?’

She fought hard to give an air of carelessness as she shrugged. Elain chose that moment to emerge from the dressing room in a pretty, lavender sundress. They passed on their comments about how beautiful she looked then the curtains closed again.

In a whisper, Feyre said, ‘Were you drinking alone again?’

Again. Drinking alone was considered wrong, but drinking every single night with company was permissible.

‘Feyre, what I do is my business.’

‘That’s why you had an early night, isn’t it? Because you were drinking.’

Nesta sucked in a breath. Her temper never did do well when provoked – especially not in the sun. ‘Yes, I was drinking Feyre. I had a lovely time by the pool drinking cocktails. Don’t be too jealous.’

#neris #fake dating au

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flannelshirtandjeans · 1 year

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I've fulfilled some dreams I've had for a long time - got myself a hand-held console to play Pokémon on, and got a fashion doll to make clothes for! Picked Monster High's Draculaura, whom I'm naming Maladicta because she's My Creature now. xD I've given her freckles and some (a lil shoddy) shading on her nose and lips, red nail polish, and a little blush - to make her unique to me.

I've so far made her a little crochet shrug, a strapless top, leggings, and am working on a fancy dress! I have a LOT to learn but am having fun learning it so all is great!

I've never had such an articulated doll before, or felt anything like her hair! She's fantastic! I also love her lil face, and the accessories that came with her are super fun even if I won't necessarily use them much as is.

#monster high #Draculaura #fashion doll #doll clothes #gonna tag her posts as #Ida's doll closet

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tbmunson · 2 years

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Halloween Makeup - Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

Day 1 of 31

Summary: Robin lets you practice Halloween makeup, but it end in a makeout.

Warnings: Fluff. Mutual pining? slightly maybe. Steve walking in.

WC: 1.1K

October Masterlist

You knocked on Robins front door with your makeup case filled to the brim with brushes and wild colored eyeshadows. You were so excited when she agreed to let you practice Halloween makeup on her that you didn't bother changing out of your pajamas, a pair of running shorts and a too big t shirt, before rushing over.

The door swung open and Robin appeared in the doorway in a similar outfit, a smile settled on her face. "Hey, come in." She stepped to the side, holding the door for you.

You walked through the threshold and wrapped your free arm around her. "Thank you again for letting me do this."

"I- yeah, of course." She stuttered a bit as her arms wound around you.

You giggled as you pulled away. "Where are we doing it?" You asked, looking around her house.

"My room. I'd be crucified if we got makeup on the couch." She chuckled, finally closing the door before grabbing your hand and pulling you up the stairs as you laughed at her slightly exaggerated explanation.

You began to unpack the palettes, examining them for the shades you wanted to use as Robin settled onto her bed. "I'm gonna make you a fairy, so do you want green or blue?" You asked, comparing a few palettes.

"Green." She answered, resting her back on the headboard.

You nodded and grabbed what you needed before sitting in front of her, knees brushing hers. "Alright, so usually I start with foundation first, but, I don't want green fallout everywhere so we're gonna do eyeshadow first." You explained, attempting to scoot closer.

"Yeah, because I totally know what all of that means." She laughed, sending a small shock up your spine. Her extensive makeup skills ended with mascara and some chapstick from time to time.

You swallowed hard before joining in on the laughter. "That's okay. I have the knowledge, you just sit there and look pretty." You regretted it as soon as it left your mouth, not because you didn't think she was pretty, but because you didn't want her to know. You looked down into the eyeshadow, not catching the pink hue that took over her face.

"I'll try my best." She sounded a bit nervous now and you blame yourself for it.

Your eyes softened as you looked back up, taking in the light blush on her cheeks. "You're doing a great job." You tucked some of her hair away from her face.

"Oh." It was a faint, barely there response, but knowing how nervous she got, you were just glad she didn't fall into a ramble.

You hummed lightly as you worked the shades of green onto her eyes, getting closer and closer to her without realizing it. You were straddling her lap now, your legs enclosing hers as your fingers grabbed gently as her jaw to angle her how you needed her. You hadn't even noticed the way her hands rested comfortably on the bare skin of your thighs.

"You're even prettier up close, you know?" Robin said, breaking your trance.

Only then did you realize your position on her lap, inches from her face. It was your turn to blush, lighting up under her gaze. "You think so?"

"Oh yeah. Absolutely. You can really see your freckles, the really light ones that I've only ever seen in the summer when you're like out in the sun a lot and super tan, and the little mole on your jaw right by your ear. It's very pretty. And-"

"Robin." You cut her off, bringing her eyes back to you.

"Huh?" She asked, staring up at you, eyes wide like she thought she'd messed up.

You blushed, resting a hand on the side of her neck. "Can I, uh, can I kiss you?"

She sucked in a surprised breath and nodded. "Yeah. Yes. Please."

You giggled and leaned forward, closing your eyes and pressing your lips gently to hers.

It took her a moment to register what was happening before her own eyes, coated in an array of greens and glitters, fluttered closed and she kissed you back. Her hands subconsciously squeezed at your thighs as your hand tracked it way up into her hair.

Your tongue grazed her bottom lip, pushing in immediately when she opened her mouth. You couldn't help but to explore every part of her mouth with yours and then let her to the same.

You pulled back so you could both catch your breath. "I have been waiting to that since ninth grade, when I finally let myself like girls." You admitted, forehead resting on hers.

"You could have done it sooner, y'know? I've been crushing on you since elementary school." She leaned back in, kissing you quickly before laughing.

Your hand fell from her hair to the back of her neck as you chuckled. "Then I'd say we've got years to catch up on, huh?" You pulled her back into you, attaching your lips to hers again.

Her hands trailed up your thighs, over your shorts and under your shirt to rest on your sides. She gasped as you began kissing down her jaw and to her neck, attaching at her sensitive spots, making her let out small whimpers and moans.

"You make really pretty sounds, baby." You cooed, dropping a hand to her side.

She blushed bright red and ducked her head into the crook of your neck. "Shut up." She whined, shaking her head.

You laughed lightly, wrapping your arms around her body. "Don't be embarrassed. I like hearing you, okay? It's so pretty."

She took this opportunity to press kisses to your neck and take in the sounds you made. She layed you back gently, hovering over you as she kissed your skin. "You're right, it is pretty." She smirked. Her hand skated up your torso, getting closer to your boobs when her door flung open.

"Hey, I brought snacks and a mov- What the fuck?" Steve's voice broke the two of you aparts quickly.

"Steve! What are you doing here?" She asked, helping pull your shirt back down.

"I came over because you said Y/N was coming and I thought we could hang out and watch movies! I didn't know this was happening!" He covered his face with one hand, shaking the bag with the other for emphasis.

You couldn't help but laugh. "That's okay, Stevie. We can watch a movie, but you're not invited to the slumber party."

Robin and Steve both went red. "Yeah, no problem. I'll be downstairs." He mumbled, turning and walking out of the room.

"I am so sorry. I didn't think he would show up like that. He said it sounded fun and that he'd see me later but I thought he meant at work tomorrow and not later as in this afternoon and-"

"Robin." You pulled her to you, kissing her quiet. "It's okay. Slumber party, remember?" You chuckled, letting her go and getting off of the bed.

She nodded, following you closely. "Yeah."

The two of you joined Steve on the couch, laughing when he wouldn't look at either of you in the face.

#stranger things #flufftober #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley fluff

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medicus-mortem · 1 year

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@chatcambrioleur answered [+]

She'd been deeply engrossed in the book she'd been referencing, finding an issue between some of the data she'd collected, and translating it into the land mass she'd been detailing. Sex, truth be told, was the furthest thing from Nami's mind at the moment --- and Law, even further. His presence clearly surprised her, drawing away from any thoughts of land charts and graphs, as she lurched in her seat.

The low baritone of his voice was enough to drive her to shiver, and push away some of the hair that teased against her bare skin, with the heat of his breath. Light skin turned a shade of pink, especially noticeable on her chest and cheeks, thanks to the surprise of his visit. The way he handled her, so authoritatively and possessively didn't help. Was it Nami's imagination, the way he took control and command of the room whenever he walked in? Or was it just his Devil Fruit power playing tricks on her?

Goosebumps rose where his fingers trailed, and she writhed in pleasure, sinking her teeth into her lip. A hum sounded in her throat, a quiet attempt to regain some of her control, as she turned, standing and leaning against her desk. Reading glasses pulled from her up-tuned nose, the stem went to her mouth, between her teeth as she thought.

"Hmm... a few ideas come to mind..."

Her hands met his chest, trailing down the length of his torso, slowly, calculating.

"I bet you've got a real vivid imagination, though. I think you should share."

She shivers under his touch and Law relishes how quickly he can capture her attention. Nami had been so engrossed in her work when he stepped into the room but now all she can think about is his voice, his breath, and his touch. Eyes travel over the pink in her cheeks as finger explore the warm blush beneath the freckle galaxies on her skin. Her body succumbs to his touch, writhing as his fingers seek to go lower. Law’s eyes lock on her face, watching what he can as he lines closer with the intention of taking an earlobe into his mouth.

Then comes a hum, the only indication that she is about to slip from his grasp. Nami does just that, pulling away before his lips can touch her enticing skin. He straightens, unable to hide the slightly disappointed sigh that comes from him. Both hands settle onto the back of her chair and his eyes rise to where the navigator now stands. His head tilts as eyes focus on her lips, watching as she chews so innocently on the arms of her reading glasses.

Man, that’s some sexy librarian shit right there.

Law smirks, stepping out from behind the chair and into Nami’s personal space, trapping her between him and the desk. Teasing words, followed by a teasing hand. His own rest on her hips, the doctor pulling closer as her hand goes lower. His own skin tingles under her touch, the doctor enjoying when she brushes against the line of his tattoos.

“Should I? Hmm, where to start?” he hums, gaze on her face and his own brow furrowing in thought. “Since we got a desk right here. I’ve thought about bending you over one and making a complete mess of someone’s work. Or,” he continues, his tone shifting enough to denote he’s just come up with a great idea. “We could see how much work you get done while I’m here to distract you.”

#chatcambrioleur #Captain's Log // Threads #Captain of Hearts // Canon Verse #vivid #[Law deserves to be flirty as a treat #feel free to let this be if you think we've already got too much going]

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passivenovember · 2 years

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First chapter in Brush Fire, my shovel-talk fic wherein random adults and people in Billy’s life give Steve the shovel talk as the two fall, painfully, in love.

One: Carol

Thing is, Billy’s just Nancy Wheeler painted in contrasting shades of bullshit.

And Steve can’t pinpoint the day Hargrove turned into Billy, into a kaleidoscope that bleeds beyond asshole and dickwipe and evil step-brother, but really it’s all a side effect. A symptom of what’s coming, like a cough he doesn’t notice until it’s too late.

‘Cause at the end of the day Billy’s smart and Steve.

He’s got a thing for Brainiacs.

The kind of smarts that could win bar trivia. Pay for a vacation to Europe with the money from an episode of Pyramid. Even better if the guy’s got claws. Pretty eyes that narrow alongside cheeks that blush pink and red, like gumdrops.

“Help me write my essay,” Steve tells him, waiting outside Billy’s Advanced College Placement class with his collar popped.

Billy’s smiling before Steve speaks to him. He’s chatting, limbs soft and smile wide, dorky, and then he hears that voice. Goes shocked still. Looks like he’s gonna piss his pants.

“I’ll, uh, see ya later, Bills,” Says that girl. Barb Holland. She pokes at the bridge of her glasses and disappears around the corner, shooting these worried little glances at Billy like he can’t take care of himself. Like he isn’t Hawkins High’s resident bad boy, player, macho-nacho–-

“What do you want, Harrington?”

Billy’s teeth were pretty, Steve notes, when he was smiling. When he was happy. Now he's got this searing little twist to his lip, saddled with this sudden crash to reality. Steve shoves off the locker to make room for a pee-wee dork that says excuse me, calculating the way Billy’s baby blues have gone dry.

He’s exhausted and tired of it. Sick down to his fifteen-pack abs.

“I want you to write my essay,” Steve repeats, thinking if he’s more direct Billy will go for it.

Hargrove puffs out his chest. Squares his jaw. “Fuck no.” He says. Needing the fight.

“Wasn’t asking,” Steve says.

“I’m not writing your essay for you, dickweed.”

“Yeah? Why not?”

“'cause no one’s gonna believe you can spell multi-syllable words,” Billy spits, “And I’m not dumbing myself down to whatever kindergarten level class you’re taking–-”

“God, you’re a menace. You’re a forest fire.”

Billy’s cheeks flare at that. Bright red, freckles punching through like holes in notebook paper and Steve knows it.

He’s got him. Hook and line, just like Nancy, but then Billy’s walking off down the hallway. Leaning in a little hard with his boots, stomping holes into the cement.

Steve follows after him. Says, “I’ll pay you.”

And Billy says, “I don’t want your money.”

That makes Steve laugh. Loud and sudden. “Everyone wants my money.”

“Everyone wants you, right? King Steve. Whole place’d probably shut down if you graduated, right? Need the golden boy around. The gold eggs he lays in the shit-covered green just outside B-Hall,” Hargrove leads them round the corner, stopping to dial and yank his locker open. “God, you’re a fucker–”

“And you’ve got the highest marks in AP English,” Steve says. He leans against the metal closest to Billy, foot propped to pass the time.

He'll wait.

He’s already won. He’s got what he came here for, but Billy needs time to work it out for himself. All those brains behind pretty blonde princess curls and Billy devotes all his energy to the glare Steve's pinned with. Billy hisses and spits like a drowned kitten, thinking he’s tough.

“Not wasting my time on you, Harrington,” Billy says. Like it’s supposed to hurt. “You’re a lost cause. Might as well get Wheeler to suck your dick and write that shit for you-–”

“Watch your mouth," Steve says gently.

Gotta be patient. Give the boy room to think it over, run it back, mold his pretty pinks into an apology.

"Nancy and I broke up," Steve says, like it matters.

Like the way his voice still hitches a little, at the end, shaky and vulnerable, will make a difference.

It does and it doesn't. "What would you even write about," Billy demands, ignoring him. "Being rich? How it feels to be born with a silver fucking spoon in your mouth?"

Steve tenses all over, poised to take the heat of Billy's onslaught if it'll get him what he wants.

Billy lens in presses harder. "Oh, what about the way you're a washed-up beauty queen? You gonna cry about the hours and hours you put into impressing the cows around here only to have them run right over your perfect hair to get to the next freak on the list?"

Steve won't bite. "You think my hair's perfect?"

And maybe that's a step too far.

Billy grips the metal locker so tight the thing almost groans, baby blues laced with a challenge. That little lip twist has turned into a snarl and Steve.

Almost backs away.

Almost backs down.

But the flush is packed on like fresh snow, glittering and saturated with pinks and magentas. Steve really does need help with his essay, so he leans closer. Says, "What can I do to get your help on this?"

And waits for the walls to crumble around them.

“You’re not fooling anyone, Harrington,” Carol says. "You think you've got this whole school wrapped around your fingers but I see what you're doing."

And Steve knows it's Carol without having to look up from the pin-lanes scribbled in red across his essay. Knows it without swallowing the tucked-away mashed potatoes at the corner of his mouth. Knows her voice like he knew the chimes that signaled the end of nap time, all those years ago. The stick of a bandaid peeled from her skin and patted, harshly, onto his before another go on the tire swing.

He doesn’t look up at her to point out that, “If I were smart enough to fool anyone I wouldn’t need help editing this fuckin’ thing.”

But Carol doesn’t stop. Keeps rolling on. Says, in that special shade of periwinkle irritation that she used to save for Tommy, “You could’ve asked someone else.”

Steve glances at her. Notices her hair’s different. “What do you mean?”

“Billy,” Carol spits. Word travels fast. She looks over her shoulder. Scans the lunch room as if afraid that he’ll spring up from the linoleum. Knock the tray out of her fist, or something. She turns back, eyes narrowed. “You could’ve asked anyone else–-”

“He’s got the best marks in English.”

“So?”

“Like I’m gonna hinge my future on someone with anything less than a perfect grade,” Steve chuckles, trying to change its tune somewhere in the middle so Carol doesn’t take this as a notice of war. “Look, the guy’s my ticket outta this shithole.”

“Harrington, you’re stuck. Like the rest of us.” Carol says.

And the thing is? Carol was the first girl who proved chicks could be cool and dangerous and three-dimensional. They were flirts at one point and friends, way before that, giggles and weekend sleepovers stretching all the way back to a blue, cloud-covered room Steve can hardly remember, so.

He knows Carol.

Maybe not as well as he used to, but. He knows the girl. Feels like she’s got his neck in her fist, from how tight she’s gripping the lunch tray. Senses that if he makes one step out of line, she’ll dig her fangs into him.

“What’s your deal, Perkins?”

Carol’s eyes could melt through bone.

Steve takes the last bite of his mashed potatoes before shoving his tray to the other side of the table. “You got a crush on him or something?"

"What?" Carol says, incredulous.

"Look, I know you're sweet on him--"

"Harrington, you're such a skeez if you thought, for even a minute that I'd ever do that to Tommy--"

"Alright, you're friends will Billy, then," Steve says, exhausted from the theatrics. "You're like his scary big sister, protecting him from the wolf in GAP clothing."

"You're such a dumbass," Carol groans, like Steve's whole thing is getting old and she wishes he'd call it a day. "Why don't you beg Wheeler to tutor you?"

"This conversation is melting my brain."

"Seriously, it's not like she'd say no," Carol says, "She's still got a soft spot for you even if Byers is stuffing her full on a daily basis--"

"--Billy's got a better grade than Nance--"

"--I mean, seriously. Couldn't you pick on someone in your own academic caste?"

"Jesus, Carol, why do you care so much?" Steve drops the act, the good-natured small talk for old time's sake, and lets his words land like fists on the rickety table top.

All at once, Carol looks older. Wiser and mean and so, so worried.

"You know what your problem is, Harrington?"

"Enlighten me," Steve says, bored.

"You've never been told no a day in your life."

Billy walks through the lunchroom doors, then, a copy of Moby Dick under one arm and a spiral notebook snatched under the base of his lunch tray. His arms, stiff with forced swagger as he scans the crowd for Steve, jerk when they spot one another.

His cheeks are pink.

From a million miles away, swimming through a river of pissed-off Perkins, Steve can see it.

"That boy isn't any different from the rest of us," Carol says tightly. She grips her own lunch tray, and says, "He's sensitive."

Steve opens his mouth to shit all over the floor, and.

"He is," Carol tells him. "Think whatever you want to but I know him. Billy's rough around the edges but he's smart. Too smart for his own good--"

"Smart enough to deal with me?"

Carol's mouth snaps shut, frowning as Steve moves his lunch tray and Billy floats into view.

"Harrington," He says sharply. Then, to Carol, "Perch Perkins, looking frosty today."

"Fuck off, Malibu Barbie," Carol says, but there's a softness there that takes Steve back to kindergarten.

He swallows against a pang of jealousy, tracking the way her eyes go warm for this asshole.

Billy tacks a wet kiss to her forehead and then plops down onto the bench across from Steve, flipping to a blank page in his notebook, and Carol sulks away, looking every bit like she'd burn down the world to protect him.

Steve wishes he had been smart enough to recognize that conversation for what it was.

The first in a long line of people that, in the pit of themselves, for better or worse, whether they knew it or not: loved Billy Hargrove.

#harringrove #enemies to lovers #shovel talk #fic #chapter one #brush fire

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nelapanela94 · 2 years

Text

TW: Throat fucking, mild knife play, public sex, MDNI

Let's see what awaits you on your first day at work.

Light bulbs light up around the mirror, making your face pucker while your pupils shrink to the brightness. As your eyes dawdle over your scantily covered body, your cheeks slather with a deep shade of pink. You were right about the corset, your boobs threaten to pop out, your belly button full at display. The pleated skirt hardly shields your crotch, crisp air spanks your butt, and the thong is splitting you in halves.

It’s going to be a long shift, you sigh.

“Oh! Look at the new kitty Levi found.” A fake blond three mirrors to the left quips, a condescending smirk playing on her lips. “Bet she won’t last a night here.” The lipstick bar cracks from the shell, and she leans in, gliding on the cheap whore red on her poisonous mouth. You can hear the rattle of her tail. When Botox-filled lips stick out, she pecks her reflection and leaves the staff room.

“Don’t listen to her.” The girl from the right startles you, and you turn to her. A beautiful brunette with green cat’s eyes curling her wild hair. She must be a favorite here. “She’s just jealous because you’re Levi’s new toy.” You gulp. That doesn’t sound like a prize at all.

You open the drawer of your vanity and your hand travels to the crimson red lipstick and the black eyeliner. “Can you help me with a Smokey eye?” You timidly ask Micaela, her name flashing in the tag hanging from her collar.

“I think you should aim for a more innocent look.” She winks. “Light eyeshadows, blush on your nose and some freckles. You’ll have them at your feet.” Her eyes scoot to the red bracelet on your left wrist, and a playful smile curves on her lips. “It seems you’ll be on your knees all night.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“Red means your pussy and ass are safe.” She draws an ocher line in the inside of your lower lid and crisps your lashes. “You got the piercing, didn’t you?”

You gulp, again, and nod.

The nude lipstick feels like butter, and you purse your lips to even it. Then, you take a glance at your reflection. “Wow” You could pass for a high school girl.

“Let’s go. Levi loathes tardiness.”

Your stomach begins to churn, you feel the acids sloshing to your throat.

You don’t know what to expect down there.

Actually, you do know. You signed in for this, you read the bright red lines in the contract: open to stripping in public, gangbangs, milking, DP, anal, oral, and so on.

You witnessed it when you clocked in. Your coworkers bent down and rammed from behind, guys taking turns one after the other, not giving them respite.

You close the door behind you and pull out your best cajoling smile.

“I’ve never seen you here before.” The guy cast a winning grin, the coffee spoon coaxing whirlpools in his cup. Then, silver clanks against the saucer.

You place down the tray of biscuits, mentally cursing at your fumbling hand. “First day?”

“Am I that obvious?” You smile back. This one has his hair licked back in gel. He leans in and perches his chin on his steepled hands.

“I guess I’m your very first customer then.”

“You are.”

He curls a finger towards himself, and you reel to him, his mouth lingering on your ear. “Get on your knees and blow me.” He whispers in that deep voice that surges straight to your cunt and gets you all wet.

“Strip down too.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as your hands travel to the knot that keeps your corset in place. The uniform is designed easy on/easy off, though once off no one would ask you to put it back on again. Your eyes darted around the place, the baristas diligently filling trays on the counter, one girl on the furthest table rammed by two guys at the same time from behind while she wipes the tea spills from the table. All the girls are dressed, not fully though, some have already discarded their underwear, but they had something covering bits of skin.

Another ravenette ducks in the booth. “A cute one, isn’t it?”

“Yes. You can use her once she’s done with me.”

“Too bad we can’t use all her holes at the time. Maybe next time.” Your stomach flips upside down. Your shaky hands pull at the cord and the panels open, a rush of blood and air filling your chest. The two Levi’s slouch back on the seat, sipping tea in an odd way as their eyes take in your exposed breasts. The temperature suddenly drops five degrees.

“Pretty tits.”

“Agree.” They exchange glances and grin as if they could read each other thoughts.

“Come here, kitty.” The new Levi beckons. You push the table aside to make room and steer before them. The empty cups clatter on the wood, and at the same time, they take your nipples in their mouths. “Ah,” you gasp, and your shoulder blades tug back. One biting, the other rolling his tongue on your nipple and your brain tries to focus on the two different sensations, rippling waves of pleasure from your tits straight to your clit. Fuck, if it wasn’t for that piercing, you would have someone playing with your pussy right now.

You toss your head backward, letting out ribald mewls as those two devour your breasts. One unzips your skirt, and it pools at your feet, the other pulls away and mocks, glancing at the glistening spot on your crotch. “Look at how wet she is.” Cool air kisses your other nipple. That Levi leans in and dives his face between your legs, sucking in a long whiff. “Sweet.” He mumbles to himself, and the other Levi pushes him away to corroborate himself.

Two pair of dull gray eyes stare at your self-conscious gaze. “Have you ever been taken at the same time?” The one from the right asks, and you shake your head. The one with wavy hair falling like a mop grabs your hand and drives it to his mouth, pressing his lips on the red bracelet. “Let us be your firsts. You’ll love to have two dicks inside your pussy.”

“We’ll be nice.” Your eyes dart to the horse-licked Levi, and you catch the shiny red object with a tiny silver cross engraved. He flicks his thumb and the blade pops. Your legs are shaking and your arousal rising.

“Turn around,” he orders, and you comply.

“Relax,” one hand roams down between your thighs. “We won’t hurt you,” and then is when the icy blade slips under the thong, pulling it toward his face, the strain splitting your slit and pressing your pierced clit, the stinging pain flaring your insides.

You bite your lip to push away the pain between your legs, but he twists his wrist, and the tapered edge shears the lacy fabric. “Let’s take a look.” You swivel around again, the long thread hanging between your thighs. The blade nips your hipbones, one after the other, and the last sheared piece joins your skirt on the floor.

“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.”

It has only gone fifteen minutes since your shift started, and you’re the only person in the salon completely stripped down, prying eyes coming from every angle. You still can run out.

But you’re not a quitter.

And you fucking need the money.

This gig is better than losing a kidney.

Lips, hands prodding.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, and give in to the pleasure.

“Slow down, sweetheart. You’re going to choke.” The corners of his lips swerve up, causing the other Levi, the one with his jeans and red boxers piled next to him, chuckle lightly. His curls glued to the sweat on his forehead. The Levi, whose cock is buried down in your throat, had heedfully folded his khaki slacks and underwear. These two jerks better tip you well, you’ve been scraping your knees and sucking cock for an hour already.

Is come rich in proteins? Cause is the only thing you’re going to be fed tonight.

You glare at the man through beaded lashes, tears burning in your eyes and spilling down in rivulets on your cheeks, converging on your chin and dripping down between your bouncing boobs, meandering down your navel until they melt in your swollen folds. This is so humiliating, and yet your inner slutty side loves it. You love the way they gaze at you, eyes clouded with lust and hunger, the way they desire you, they way they use you. At the end of the night, they could bundle you into a dumpster and you’d thank them.

You crave those dicks splitting your pussy in halves, damn, what would it feel like to have two cocks jackhammering inside you?

You feel as if you would combust at anytime, this whole situation is too intense, and yet you know it’s a calm night. Your body is on fire, heat bursting from your belly and spreading in all directions.

“You’re such a beauty.” A fingertip strides along the crown of your head, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “So eager to please.”

“Yeah-Ah-Ah.” Those hips slam relentlessly into your face, his pubes lashing and pricking your cheeks again and again until, with a shuddering thrust, he explodes into your mouth, his bitterness crashing in strings, and you drink to the last drop. You hollow your cheeks, slurping around him as his cock, deliberately slips out of your mouth.

Panting, he flops and sags into the cushioned backrest and wipes his forehead. His baby blue button-up shirt is mid opened, drops of sweat glint, sliding down on his thick chest.

“My turn,” the other Levi chides, heaving on his feet, his fingers diving into your hair, and he clenches his hand, tossing your head to his already engorge length, marked down with your lipstick. “Open up big.” And between your O shaped lips, he disappears.

After two sessions of blowing them, you just couldn’t keep the lead, and now they’re using your mouth as a fuckhole, pounding into you and boasting in their unbridled levels of stamina.

“Isn’t she a pretty kitty, drooling on cock?” The light blue Levi coos as he comes back to his senses, hand resting on your cheek, patting gingerly. Then his hand makes its way to your breast, the pads of his fingers grazing on your pebbled nipple. The pleasure boosts, coursing though your body like lightning bolts. You’ve never been aroused this much in your life, the string of juices dribbles past your midthighs. You could get addicted to this feeling, strangle your fears and pudency and feel, feel, feel. Let the pleasure scorch every inch of your body.

Sweat trickles the sides of your face.

Levi’s tea shop seems like a depraved place where the kinky wealthy men, those who have nothing else to squander their money on, and girls like you in desperate situations, who would sell their souls for coins, coincide. Them eager, and you willing for perversion. A win-win game. But there are rules, Rules, and they have to abide by them. Levi the boss penalizes those who don’t play according to them, ad if they harm any of the girls, the customers get a lifetime ban.

That’s what Micaela explained. “Don’t worry about bottles in your pussy, they can only use the toys the shop provides.”

That eased your nerves just a bit.

The room becomes fuzzy, and stifling, the stench of alcohol is dank in the air. Moans, and whines and cries mingle, composing an obscene melody, porn movie worthy. Your eyes are leaden, your jaw cracked impossibly wide it might stick in that position forever.

“Hey, sweet pie,” red shirt Levi tousles your hair. “It’s not polite to be distracted,” he squints his eyes and clasps his hands on your face, shoving himself further in. You whine around his cock and bob your head obediently, squeezing your eyes, picturing the good tip this asshole would leave. He must. Your tongue swirls around, putting careful attention to the tip, wrenching out cute grunts from him. He tosses his head back, lurching his hips forward. You can’t blame him, though, he was right, you’ve been spacing out for the last thirty minutes, swimming in the sea of thoughts while they’ve taken turns to fuck your mouth. His fingers curl in your hair, tugging you closer to his crotch, filling your lungs with his scent of musk and soap.

It's your first night, and it will be a long one.

Your knees mar on the white marble floor. Your body is drained, it surely will ache tomorrow morning, and the thrill to discover what you’ll be up to next is consuming you.

You can feel his warm spurt rolling down your throat, and another hand threads in your hair.

One cock out, and the other one in.

Two Levi’s looking at you as if you were their most precious pearl.

#Levi ackerman #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman/reader #levi ackerman/you #Levi ackerman attack on titan #levi aot #levi attack on titan #aot #attack on titan #snk #snk levi #aot Levi

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icy-warden · 1 year

Text

@heniareth I’m answering your old ask for Saskia! Doing it in parts 😘 Original ask here

16. a conversation between your OC and their best friend

The freshly washed sheets flutter in the wind. Saskia’s enjoying sitting in their shade, sorting dried laundry into baskets. She finds comfort in the scent of soap surrounding her and a small smile appears on her lips when she finds a piece of fabric mixed into her basket.

She breaks into a grin when she flings the thing at Soris’ face and he first lets out a cute little squeak, then turns into a lovely shade of red when he recognizes what he holds in his hands. Saskia laughs at him when he doesn’t meet her eyes, flustered, mumbling something about Alarith while stuffing the skimpy, bright red smallclothes into his pocket.

He huffs at her, embarrassed but smiles at her nevertheless when he sees how amused she is by his misery.

“Fine, laugh all you want. Thank the Maker Shianni isn’t here, she’d never let me live it down.”

Saskia’s brow goes up. “And you’re sure I won’t tell her?”

“You won’t.” Soris says but his glance is a bit unsure and after a moment of stony silence she takes pity on him.

“I won’t.”

Soris’ shoulders drop with a heavy exhale, his freckles standing out on his still pink cheeks.

“I know.” It’s quiet between them again, both of them working on separating laundry for three households. Saskia feels Soris’ eyes on her and she tilts her head at him in silent question.

“Are you sure this is how you want to spend your time here?” She blinks at him and he clears his throat. “I mean, you could do something else. Relax. Talk with Cyrion. Not, you know, laundry.”

She shrugs. “There’s time to talk with my father later.”

After all, during her stay in Denerim it’s natural she’s sleeping in her family’s home.

She saw he bought a few pieces of second hand furniture and that he’s got enough wood for keeping fire going in the kitchen. Saskia’s glad he uses the coin she sends him but she’s sure he keeps most of it hidden for later. Or helps others in need.

They talked when she arrived yesterday and she enjoyed her father’s arms around her when he hugged her tight with misty eyes upon seeing her. He made her bread and they sat at the table, Saskia listening to his tales and answering his questions as best as she felt comfortable with. She saw he was happy to see her, but felt his eyes slipping onto her ring finger from time to time. She curled her hand into fist, then let it fall on her lap.

Saskia felt the question in the air, but breathed easier when he didn’t ask it out loud. She’s aware he knows that kind of grief that never leaves - he also is still wearing his own wedding ring.

And even if he didn’t ask, she saw sadness in his eyes. And she needed to go out, using the opportunity of visiting her cousins as an excuse.

“I like doing laundry.”

Soris snorts. “This your way of relaxing? Wardens must be really exciting. Or dull.”

“Can be both.”

“Really?” Soris shifts closer, bumping her knee with his. “Have any stories to tell?”

His eyes shine and Saskia knows he’s eager for any exciting story of her adventures. “Maybe I do.”

“Don’t keep me waiting then. Tell something. It’s really him? You know, your Commander.”

Saskia keeps looking at Soris until the tips of his ears start to blush. “You still having that crush? What will Alarith say?”

“Oh shush, it’s not like that.” Soris mumbles under his breath, squirming under her gaze and she smirks. “It’s just hard to believe it’s him. I thought he’s gone and now he’s Commander. And mage. Did you know he was one?”

Saskia hums, “When we were kids? Who knew.”

“It’s just. I don’t know… cool?” His fingers play with the hem of a shirt. “He’s from here and we played together. Does he remember us?”

“We never talked much about it.” Soris’ face falls a little. “But I think he does. I know he nudged right people to do something more for Alienage.”

He perks at that. “Yeah? Well, I mean, there are some things that changed, but I thought it’s Shianni’s doing. She’s loud. I worry about her sometimes.”

Saskia sighs. “I do too. Politics. It’s dangerous.” It gets people killed, she doesn’t add.

“Ah, well, but it’s Shianni! She never lets anything hold her down. She’ll first scold you then smack you if it’s not working.”

Saskia nods at Soris’ attempt at brightening up the mood.

“Sooo… where’s he now?”

“Who?” She asks innocently.

“Your Commander. He let you come to Denerim. Don’t you Wardens need, I don’t know, warden all time?”

She shakes her head at him, getting up with a basket hauled on her hip. “Kirkwall. And you can say his name, you know. It doesn't summon him, so don’t be shy.”

Soris stands up as well, his voice a bit higher. “I’m not shy.”

Saskia just smiles at him and turns to go down on rickety ladder.

[OC Codex Prompts]

#WardenTxt #Saskia Tabris #Soris #Saskia visits her family while Vergil's in Kirkwall #doing important wardens stuff (and zevran)#i hc it's 3 years after the blight soooo #saskia's in for surprise when vergil comes back to vk #a big big surprise 😭

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euthonia · 1 year

Text

stars ; episode ii

shoutout to @nixiebeeeee for dming me !! you're so sweet <3

DISCLAIMER: everything is this story and plot line is entirely fictional. everything here will be entirely plain fluff and sfw, and ranboo is not comfortable with nsfw writings. if ran decides he is uncomfortable with fanfics, this WILL be taken down.

ranboo pov

Ever since I met Lilia through the discord call accident with Dream, I feel like Liliahas been my friend for years now. I feel closer to her than I do with Tubbo, which I know is a strange thing to say. Whenever she talks, I feel safe. And her laugh, god, it's contagious. The feeling of her laugh just gives me butterflies. But, she's just a friend, Ranboo! Yup, nothing else...

- flashback to the discord vc accident -

"God, Clay, could your house like, stop growing? Maybe donate a room or two more to me." a female voice sighed, giggling in the background of Clay's mic.

"WOMAN?" Tommy yelled through the mic. I rolled my eyes. Average Tommy moment.

"Wait, what the fuck are you doing- shit. Do you have facecam on?" the voice spoke once again, stuttering through their words.

Dream responded. "No, I don't. No one is streaming right now either, do you want to say hi? It's Niki, Phil, Wilbur, and Ranboo on the call." Why did he say my name like that to them? Whatever, I'm probably just hearing things.

- present -

As I was thinking, I heard my discord ring. I looked over to my monitor to see y/n was calling me! I quickly answered.

"Hi boo!" Lilia greeted.

"Hey Lily! What's up?" I asked, spinning around in my chair.

"Okay, so I know we've been friends for a little while, soo..... I was wondering if you wanted to um, f-face reveal?" she stuttered.

"O-oh! Uh-" I started.

"I'm sorry for asking. If you're uncomfortable with it that's totally fine. I really shouldn't have asked-"

I could tell she was nervous. "Lily! It's okay. I'm comfortable."

"Really? I don't wanna make you feel forced, Ranboo."

I reassured her. "I'm fine with it."

"Okay, then. On the count of three, turn your webcam on." she replied.

"3."

"2."

"1."

Lilia turned her webcam on at the exact second I did, and oh my god. She was so pretty. Her brown straight hair was slightly covering her face, and she had small freckles covering her face like sprinkles. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of green, with long dark eyelashes. She had a sharp jawline that just perfected her face even more. Her cheeks were also a light shade a pink. Wait, was she blushing- no. No. Stop it Ranboo.

God. Do I like Lilia?

- time skip brought to you by wilbur soot blowing up a nation -

lily pov

Wednesday

I was hanging out in Dream's room scrolling through social media as he finished up editing a video.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you." I looked up from my phone. "A bunch of Dream SMP members are meeting up this Saturday, do you want to come?"

"Yeah! How long is the trip?" I asked.

"About three weeks. All of us will stay in an Air BNB in Brighton. Everything is paid for, so all you have to bring is a laptop, and the average things you would bring for a three week trip." Dream responded, spinning around in his chair to face me.

"Any other things need to bring? Like a mic or monitor?" I said.

"Nope! There's a setup with monitors and everything else there for everyone. It's a pretty big space too, so we're good."

I got up from Clay's bed, and rushed over to him to give a hug.

"Thank you!"

_________________________________________

short chapter moment.

im rly lazy and i totally didnt work on this chapter and info chapter for a couple months, whaatttt???

fr tho, i work hard on these stories so votes and comments are appreciated! the spotify playlist for this story is in the description if you want a peek at that. :)

stay safe, and please eat and/or drink if you have not already today. love you guys!!! <3

616 words

#LANA WRITES FOR ONCE IN HER LIFE WOOOO !!#send in asks pls LMAO #i love my moots #ily guys #moots #love u mwah

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mikaelsonwife4life · 11 months

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Reunion Part Three

"I believe you are who I am looking for, then," Scott told her and she frowned, turning to face him. Her dark shirt seemed to almost billow as she turned, a look of pain flashing in her eyes for a moment, the gun having hit her leg.

"How so?" she asked, eyes narrowed. He sighed, a flash of annoyance entering him at the suspicion of those residing in Transylvania. They were all, minus the newest generation, suspicious of everything. Strangers arrive, that's suspicious. Strangers don't arrive, also suspicious.

"You see, Mavis told me of a boy. He was trapped in a fire with his siblings. His parents escaped. But the children were never seen again. Then this came, accompanied by a vampire that had been missing for centuries. His name was Moonston Wolf. Your brother," his voice was soft and the werewolf's eyes filled with tears.

"You... You're lying," she whispered, denial in her eyes. You could hear it in her voice, in her words.

"Really? I am? So he's not a boy with pitch black hair and silver eyes? He's not Clawrk Wolf's eldest son?" Scott's voice was hardening, almost forcing the woman to accept it. Tears burned in her eyes.

"Sister, where-" a younger wolf asked though once his eyes landed on his sister, he let out a deep snarl, ready to lunge at the dragon, "What have you done?"

"Relax, I was just the bearer of good news," Scott's grinned, a relaxed look on his face as the wolf snarled at him.

"It- it's okay, Gibby. Gather the family. They found him," Luna said, a soft but watery smile tilting her lips.

"He's back?" Gibbous, Gibby, whispers, eyes wide in shock.

"According to this dragon, yes. I'm sorry, I never got your name," a gentle blush rose in her dark fur, something he'd never seen a werewolf do.

"Scott. Scott Fury," he grinned, ducking his head, showing the black dragon tattoo that resided on the back of his neck. Gibby paused, his eyes flicked over the dragon. His hair was red and spiky, pointing all over the place in a disorganized mess, his eyes were like blue fire, and his skin was a delicate, pale yellow. He was dressed in jeans, a dark blue shirt, a simple black jacket, and scuffed up sneakers... All in all, Gibby thought the dragon looked rather, well, ordinary. There didn't seem to be anything special about him, he was of normal height, weight, and build. There was nothing remarkable about his features, no birthmark, moles, or freckles. He looked like the boy next door.

"How do you know that he's telling the truth," Gibby frowned, suspicion flowing through his gold eyes that were watching both his sister and the stranger that had entered the town.

"He said that Moonston had silver eyes, Gib. Only two wolves have ever had silver eyes. Daddy and 'Ston," she told her, desperate for him to believe her and for Moonston to be real, "Come." She led him down the hall into a light room, the walls a soothing shade of blue. There were two recliners and three couches in front of a table, facing a TV and it struck Scott that this was her home as well as her work place. The furniture all seemed to contrast the walls and flooring, which was in white carpeting, being deep brown. Luna moved to the closet, opening it, hung the gun up, and turned back to Scott. She smiled, very different from the suspicious girl he'd met earlier. It made him wonder, had she been like this as a child, giving her siblings whiplash everytime she moved.

"Sit, please," Luna says as she tugged herself and her brother over to the couch and sat. The warm leather was obviously well used, conforming to the shape of the she-wolf's body.

"Thank you," Scott grinned graciously as he took a seat at the edge of the recliner facing the couch they sat in. He was uncomfortable in the room, despite the very soothing atmosphere.

"What do you need?" Gibby looked at the dragon, Scott, he reminded himself before shrugging it off. The boy would be gone soon enough, no need to remember his name or play host, really.

"Why didn't you return to your parents?" Scott asked, a sudden professional air surrounding him. Gibby growled, angered at the first question. However, the younger wolf was ignored as Scott focused on Luna, her being more hospitable.

"They're dead," Luna said, a confused look appearing in her eyes. Another growl rose within Gibby, causing Scott to clench his teeth, annoyance raising in the dragon.

"No, they live in the Hotel," Scott sighed, "What happened the night the fire started?"

"We were laying down, almost asleep. Moonston was watching over us. I- I was almost asleep when a howl pierced the air. I noticed that it was hotter, hotter than it was supposed to be. It- It was stuffy, the air gray with smoke. Moonston woke our siblings, helping them get out. We got out then I heard something. The rock was crumbling, his crescent necklace broke with the chain snapped... We assumed he was dead so I took charge of my siblings, being the second eldest and we began looking for somewhere to live after seeing papa and mama's limp bodies. We eventually made it here," Luna, it appeared, was the talker of the family.

"Do you know anything about a girl named Ambrosia?" he questioned.

"No," Luna responded, confused.

"Would Moonston have any reason to not return you or your parents," at Scott's final question, a sheepish and shamed look flashed across her face.

"How dare you?" Gibby snarled, tensing to leap at Scott before Luna laid her hand on his arm. His gaze flashed to hers and he sighs, sinking back down next to her. Luna returned her attention to Scott, who was taking deep breaths in an effort not to turn into his dragon form.

"He- he was supposed to take over a section of the Hotel, he would've been forced to work there no matter who he chose to come with. Oh, I hate the thought that my brother has been alone all these years!" she sobbed.

"He's not alone. He met a young vampiress named Ambrosia and has, it seems, been with her for many many years. Or so says Mavis," Scott informed the wolf.

"W- Wha do you know about her?" Luna's voice was shaky.

"Not much other than she disappeared about five to six hundred years ago," Scott shrugged, genuinely having no clue anything about the vampire princess.

"Probably some spoiled brat," Gibby muttered and Scott fought the urge to roll his eyes. He'd thought quite the opposite. He'd met Lilith Dracula, the Count's ex-wife, and knew she was a harsh woman who lashed out at everyone over everything.

"I want to see him. Gib, you'll come with me. Moon can watch over the village," a hardness had appeared in the werewolf's eyes that had Scott feeling a little skittish.

"Okay, Alpha."

***********************************************

"Clawdia!" The two wolves embraced as Scott made his way over to Mavis, Hank, and Pedro. The four turned and watched as the two girls were joined by Clawdeen and Howleen while Clawd and Gibby awkwardly met for the first time.

"What'd you find out?" Mavis whispered as the wolves left the room.

"Well, for one, They thought that their parents and Moonston were dead. Two, never met Rose. Three, he wouldn't have returned to his siblings even if he knew that they were alive," Scott sighed, running his hands through his already chaotic locks.

"Could they have stumbled upon each other," the quartet turned and directly behind Mavis stood Sibella.

"What?" Mavis asked.

"Well, they were both alone, right? So maybe they stumbled upon each other and took comfort in each other," Sibella suggested then glanced at their shocked look, "What? I'm not just a stupid kid!"

"No, no, that's not it," Mavis defended, "We just didn't think of that."

"Really, it seemed the most probable to me," Sibella shrugged. No one noticed the two wolves that were sitting in the shadows. Once the group of five walked out, they moved out of the shadow and with a flash of black and red, the bigger wolf had transformed back into Silver while the smaller one had become Rose.

"They're getting too close," Silver growled, his eyes glowing.

"Shh, we can leave," Rose whispered, a sadness appearing in her eyes. Silver shook his head, dismissing her words with a hard look in his eyes.

"No, we came here so you can see your family and we will do so."

#scooby doo #monster high #hotel transylvania

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littlewalken · 1 year

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Ap 16

Nothing says I haven't bought a resin doll since like 2010, guessing at Lily's age here, like realizing that not only do I have no idea where my eye putty is but it's probably dried out. The only pair they had in her size was green which will work just fine. No eye mech so I might get brown for the spare plate.

Britches the Volks MDD counts as a full set and I'm assuming she has eye tubes like Shi Shi, haven't opened her head to check because there's been no need to change her eyes.

And I don't have any 6-7 wigs and if I do it's Lily's spare wig and you try explaining to a Yo-SD it has to share. Also their colors won't work for the Unoa, she's a ginger, she's got freckles all over and very good subtle body blushing.

I did change the lip color on the open mouth head. Just painted over what was there. In real life it's a cold Barbie pink, if that makes sense, and I warmed it up to closer to the lighter color in the dress.

Someone else made her a couple of A line dresses, they have traits of a beginning sewer, but this dress is better put together.

No idea what she wants to be called or anything. Usually when I buy a doll, especially with the customs, it's character first then finding a doll to match. Britches I figure was meant to be a kludge Cardcaptor Sakura because she dates from the time Volks put one out and looks like her at first glance.

This little sweetie has freckles all over and that little bracelet. She's got all the time in the world to figure herself out. The only... and it's not even an issue... Is none of the doll clothes fabric I have at hand is the right color scheme for her and we'll have to go shopping.

Or in the case of the calicos they're all fat quarters and she'll need at least a yard. She's around 43cm tall.

PS: If any of my doll friends have 12mm eyes in shades of brown or a light purple-violet-lavender that would look good on a red head and size 6-7 wigs in shades of strawberry blonde to auburn that aren't too thick let me know.

Someone has to be a size completely different from everyone else I have :p

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obscure-reference-girl · 1 year

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Masks & Misunderstandings Chapter 3

Pairing: Pavel Chekov/Leonard McCoy

Warnings: Swearing (because it’s Bones),

Word Count: 2558

Summary: Leonard thought that a nightclub where you had to wear a mask was idiotic, but he humored Jim and accompanied him to the club during shore leave anyway. After Jim fucked off into the crowd of dancing bodies without so much as a ‘never you mind’, Leonard went looking for him and found something unexpected. Meet unexpected: sexy, young, blonde...and if he reminded him a bit too much of a certain Russian navigator he wasn't going to linger on that thought.

Chapter Summary: Leonard pines over Pavel, wonders why Sulu is pissed at him (golly gee I wonder), and gets an unexpected call from home.

Author’s note: Thank you so much to everyone joining me on this wild ride!

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45899593/chapters/115963387

The day before his two-week STI test Leonard woke in a cold-sweat with an erection. He had spent the previous two weeks resolutely trying NOT to think about the night at the club. He was managing fairly well if you didn’t include when he was sickbay worrying about his two-week STI test…and whenever Jim was around pestering him, trying to figure out who the mystery man could have been…or whenever he woke up with a raging erection. In other words, he was failing miserably. To make matters worse, the mystery man in his dreams now often bore the face of a certain navigator. This only added to the guilt he felt over the fact that he was masturbating more than he had since high school. Jim wasn’t helping either.

When Jim wasn’t bothering Leonard, he was teasing Chekov about his own shore leave escapade making the young man blush the most enticing shade of pink. A flush that only served to remind Leonard of the flush of pale skin beneath his hands as we worked them over the mystery man’s body. Christine was obviously trying to not say anything, but she kept giving Leonard meaningful glances that obviously meant she thought he needed to talk. To top it off, Spock kept shooting him knowing looks that left no doubt in his mind that Jim had told the hobgoblin everything. Jim just couldn’t resist spilling his guts to his first officer regardless of whether he was even asked.

Leonard had also noticed that Lieutenant Sulu seemed to be avoiding him. They weren’t particularly close, but they has always been friendly. He couldn’t remember doing anything to piss-off the pilot, but Sulu kept glaring at Leonard from across the rec room. A few days previously he had even gotten up and left the table he was sitting at in the mess when Leonard sat down to join him. He made some excuse about being done and needing to get back to the bridge, but he had hardly started on his chicken marsala. Len would ask Chekov what was going on with his best friend if it weren’t for the fact that Leonard couldn’t look at him without thinking about the mystery man and how amazing the sex had been.

It really had been amazing too, and yet it had still left Leonard wanting more. He wanted to know what the man’s mouth tasted like, if he had freckles on his nose and cheekbones to match the ones dusting his shoulders. And Fuck, it wasn’t just the physical side of things either. He wanted to know what the man’s laugh sounded like, what his expression would be when Leonard learned exactly where to touch and caress to draw out those delectable gasps. There was a reason that Leonard didn’t do casual sex, he was a god-damned romantic. Logically, he knew that there was no reason for him to be pining over someone he didn’t even know. For all he knew, he would hate the guy if he actually got to know him. He was a doctor. He knew that what felt like a genuine connection was just dopamine and oxytocin and his neurotransmitters being stupid. Yet, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if he had done things differently, if he hadn’t seemed to lose all sense. What could have happened? God damn it. He felt ridiculous.

***

Leonard had never quite realized just how much time he spent around Pavel Chekov. You wouldn’t think that a thirty-three year old doctor and a nineteen year old bridge officer would find themselves thrown together particularly often, but it seemed like he couldn’t get away from him. To be fair, Leonard imagined that he spent more time on the bridge than the average CMO. The alpha shift bridge crew was heinously accident prone. He was forever reminding Jim and Spock that they did, in fact, need to eat. And Jim liked to have Len deliver his daily briefings while he sat at command as an excuse to see his best friend. As chief navigator Chekov was included in all senior officer briefings and it seemed like in his off time Chekov was always in medbay doing some equipment update that he’d dreamed up with Scotty. It also didn’t help that they were friends, or at least shared a group of friends. Len always found himself sitting next to Chekov at meals with the other alpha shift crew or sitting across from him at the card table in the rec room - Chekov was shockingly good at Texas hold ‘em and damn if Leonard didn’t find that attractive.

Leonard found himself listening to Chekov babble on about warp cores, dwarf stars, and constellations, things that normally held no interest for Len, but he was suddenly fascinated by whenever it was Chekov explaining it. Similarly, Chekov obliged him by listening to Len carry on about the latest developments in vaccine design and organ regeneration. The kid may not have been a medical officer, but he was a genius. Of course, Jim was also a genius, but he didn’t care a whit about medicine.

The real problem wasn’t that Chekov’s presence had Leonard’s mind in a tail spin of flashbacks to the best sex of his life. Len was learning to live with that. The real problem was that Leonard found himself enjoying spending time with Chekov a little too much.

***

After work, Leonard tried to beg off socialization and escape to his room, but somehow found himself in the rec room playing cards with Scotty, Sulu, and Uhura while Jim and Chekov took turns playing chess with Spock. He was trying to focus on his hand and not the way Pavel’s thumb was pressed against his pillowy lower lip as he chewed on the edge of the nail. Len was about to see Sulu’s call when the communications panel on the wall behind him beeped. He pressed the button and was greeted by the voice of ensign Kelly. Kelly was Uhura’s communications protégé and apparently currently stationed at the comms.

“Hi Dr. McCoy, sorry to interrupt. The computer said you were in the rec room,” Kelly said.

“It’s fine Kelly. What is it?”

“Communication from earth for you sir. Origin Atlanta, Georgia.” Leonard felt his breath leave his lungs. That could only mean one thing, a communication from his parents and daughter. He wasn’t expecting a call which meant that his mind instantly started spinning with all of the injuries his daughter Joanna could have sustained at the farm or on the playground at school.

“Don’t worry sir, it says non-emergent,” Kelly added and Len felt his chest relax. Joanna was his entire world. When his ex-wife Jocelyn left him, she took every last damn thing Leonard had to his name, but she hadn’t gotten Joanna. That was the one thing he had fought tooth and nail over. Though to be honest, Jocelyn had never been the maternal type. She remained in Joanna’s life in a transient capacity, but mostly she was too busy traveling and making her weird-ass art out of interplanetary metals. She certainly had the money to do whatever she damn well pleased with what she had sold their house for. Len and Joanna had moved home to his parent’s farm, but he hadn’t handled being the divorced loser who had to move home very well. He had been drinking too much and decided that Joanna deserved better so he said fuck it and enlisted in Starfleet.

Joanna had lived with her grandparents since Leonard joined up. It had been easier when he was at the academy. He had been able to see her most weekends and didn’t have to miss any school plays or daddy-daughter dances. Things had been considerably more difficult since the Nerada incident and joining the crew of the Enterprise. He saved his leave for whenever they were close enough to earth to make it down to visit her. They also had a standing weekly call during which they ate dinner as a family and Joanna would update him on school, her horse, and any little thing that came to mind. He soaked up every detail, nothing too small or mundane.

“Should I put it through to the rec room view screen Sir?” Kelly asked. Obviously Leonard had hesitated a little too long, lost in thought.

“Sure thing.” He said. “Thanks Kelly.”

Leonard swung chair around fully so that he was seated right in front of the viewscreen and pressed a few buttons to accept the transmission. His parents swam into focus on the screen and he was greeted by his father’s crinkly eyes and his mother’s warm smile.

“Hey Len!” His dad greeted. “I know you and Jo have a call scheduled in a few days, but she just couldn’t wait to tell you-“ He was interrupted by Joanna bouncing onto the screen.

“Hi Daddy,” She exclaimed. Her infectious smile made Len forget about all of his troubles. “I won first place in the science fair!”

“Really, Jo? That’s amazing.” He could practically feel himself glowing with pride. “Your experiment on the effectiveness of dermal regeneration on different species must have been amazing! I knew it would be! You’re always amazing!” She blushed. “I’m glad that Pawpaw was able to get those synthetic skin polymers for you.” His father was a retired surgeon at Atlanta general and still had connections in the research department.

“Actually daddy-“ she began, biting her lip.

“Is that JoJo?” Jim asked brightly as he came to lean over Len’s shoulder.

“Uncle Jim!” She chirped. The captain had been Uncle Jim to Joanna ever since their first break at Starfleet academy when Jim had gone home to visit with Leonard. Joanna had been four years old and unbearably cute. She had ‘Uncah Jim’ wrapped around her finger in about five seconds flat. Leonard and Jocelyn had both been only children so it really was great for her to have more family.

“I was just telling Daddy that I won the science fair!” Joanna informed him.

“That’s great Jo! Hear that guys,” he asked, turning to the others, “Joanna won her science fair!”

Uhura and Sulu gave a cheer and Scotty gave an ‘O’course ya did Lassy!’ The senior crew of the enterprise had become like her extended family.

“It is Joanna?” Chekov asked brightly, sliding into the empty seat next to Leonard. Joanna’s eyes lit up.

“Guess what Pavel, guess what?” Suddenly everyone else in the room ceased to matter. Joanna adored Pavel Chekov. He was energetic and listened to her with genuine interest. She was also fascinated by his job guiding the ship.

“What,” Pavel asked eagerly.

“Our navigational chart of the Andromeda system won!”

“Your what,” Leonard asked in confusion. The last time he had spoken to Joanna he was sure she was planning on dermal regeneration.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you Daddy,” She explained, “After our last call when you had an emergency in sickbay, Pavel and I started talking about the constellations of the Andromeda system and how subspace variations affect their use in navigational charting. I really loved our idea about dermal regeneration, but I wanted to try something new so Pavel’s been helping me with my project!” Len had forgotten about that. The last time he had been talking to Joanna had also been in the rec room. She had wanted to talk with ‘Auntie ‘Hura’ for a school report on a woman she admired so Leonard had taken the call in the rec room where they could all have a chat. He had been called to sickbay for an emergency and hadn’t been able to make it back before Joanna had been dragged off to bed by his parents. He supposed Chekov must have been there. He knew that Joanna liked Pavel, but he hadn’t realized that she had started to think of him as a part of her little Starfleet family.

“Oh, I-I didn’t realize you knew Lieutenant Chekov quite so well,” He replied dumbly.

“I’m sorry Leonard, I didn’t think to tell you,” Chekov whispered to Len.

“No, no it’s fine,” He said, “I’m just surprised. But that’s great!”

Honestly he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about Chekov becoming more entwined with his family. Of course there was a large part of him that loved it, went all warm and gooey at the thought. But then there was the other part of him that could only think about how much more difficult it would be to ignore his feelings for the younger man.

“Pavel has been wonderful helping Joanna,” Leonard’s mom joined in. Of course he was. Pavel was wonderful with everything. The fact that he was so good with Joanna only made Len fall a little deeper.

“The judges were really impressed with the addition of the sub-space oscillations to the vector equation,” Joanna continued explaining. Leonard just smiled and shook his head in defeat. He was smart of course, but his girl had a mind for physics and space science that she certainly didn’t get from him. It was a good thing that she had Uncle Jim-and apparently Chekov-to help her in that regard.

“Of course they were Joanna,” Pavel exclaimed, “Your ideas were brilliant.” Joanna beamed in response. God Leonard hoped she wasn’t developing a crush on Chekov. That was the last thing he needed. ‘No honey I don’t think that Pavel should be your boyfriend. I was thinking more like your stepfather,’ was not a conversation he ever wanted to have. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that he should have a few years until he had worry about Johanna and boys before returning his attention to the conversation.

“I’m real proud of you JoJo.” Len said warmly.

“Thanks Daddy! I know that you don’t have much extra transmission time on the ship so I’ll let you go now. I just really, really wanted to tell you.”

“I’m glad you did JoJo,” He replied sincerely. “Thanks for the call Mom, Pops,” he added.

“Bye Daddy, I love you!” Joanna chirped.

“Bye sweet pea. I love you too!” He reached forward and ended the call. Jim returned to his chess game with Spock and the rest of them returned to their cards. Chekov hadn’t moved the chair next to Len so he turned to him and quirked an eyebrow.

“You trying to get my kid interested in space?” He asked with mock disdain.

“You know she already is, Len,” Chekov said with a laugh. “You can blame that one on Jim, not me.”

“Hey, don’t go throwing me under the bus!” Jim hollered from the nearby table.

“It’s true Jim,” Leonard said. “Until ‘Uncah Jim’ came along she wanted to be a ballerina, not a damn starship captain.”

“Your girl’s got drive Len,” Sulu pointed out. “She’ll probably outrank all of us someday.”

“Thanks for helping Jo with her project Pav,” Leonard said turning to the younger man with a warm smile. He knew he looked like a damn fool, but he couldn’t help the rush of affection he felt. He did his best to return his attention to the game at hand and continue riding the wave of happiness that had blocked out what was coming the next day.

#star trek alternate original series #mccoy/chekov #mcchekov #leonard mccoy #pavel chekov

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parchmentedpetrichor · 3 years

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➳it's good to see you again ♡ ☾

in which y/n l/n comes home from a 2 year long mission to subdue the rest of the escaped death eaters and meets her best friend, fred weasley, yet again.

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ±1.5k

tw: mentions of scars, nightmares, mentions of the war

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. angelina and george

it's been a long day without you, my friend

and i'll tell you all about it when i see you again

it's good to see you again

y/n was sitting comfortably in the backseat of george's fancy car, earphones plugged in and listening to a song to drown out the sound of angelina and george talking about something they had seen on the news. her head was leaning against the window, her eyes drinking in the familiar view of london in nostalgia. it hurt her that she wasn't the only person who would see the beautiful city she'd known from the very beginning. and she missed it. angelina and george had picked her up from the quarantine centre after she had made a trip to albania for a couple of years with the rest of her auror unit to imprison the remaining death eaters. albania had recently acquired many cases of dragonpox, and so all the unit members had to isolate in a little hotel by the edge of italy. it had been a few weeks since the start of the quarantine and now she was zooming along a british highway, ever so keen to see her friends and family again. and fred. fred was her best friend. they had been since 5th year. perhaps she was harbouring feelings for him, perhaps she wasn't. and here she sat, curled up and watching the views, trying to decipher whether or not he'd be different. he had survived the war just barely. it would be acceptable for him to change. did he still have the millions of freckles dotted along his face? her face flushed just thinking about it. bringing her hands up to her cheeks she shook her head. chile, y/n, he probably has a girlfriend. it's been two years, and he didn't like you two years ago, he won't like you now. the thought alone made her frown. "what's got you blushing and frowning like mad?" angelina looked at her through the mirror in the front of the car. george whispered something in her ear and she giggled. "y/n, is this possibly about a certain fred weasley?" her eyes widened. "nope, not at all." "really? so you were definitely not thinking about the amount of freckles my twin has on his face? hmm?" "no! george, seriously?" she stuck my tongue out at him. "or his ginger hair?" angelina added. "no! you guys are idiots!" she folded her arms. "and she's blushing again," angelina sniggered. "stop!" "it's okay, he blushes about you way more," george laughed, eyes on the road. "stop, stop, stop!!!!!" "it is true." "no it isn't, okay? erm, i don't like him, he doesn't like me. we're best friends. you guys are gross." she resumed looking out the window, shaking her head. they had reached a pretty big house with two levels, with large windows that y/n would absolutely die to have and cute little bricks sticking out. "what? i thought we were going back to my parent's house?" "you wish." "who are we visiting?" "oh just a person i know from work," angelina said with a twinkle in her eyes. "okay. did we bring anything?" "just you," she replied, "me and george are heading back to our place. your stuffs at your parents." george nodded. y/n frowned, "okay." she bounded up to the door and knocked a couple of times. the door opened and she immediately began babbling off a greeting and an introduction without looking at the person. "i'm y/n l/n, and i understand you're from angie's work! it's nice to meet yo-" her eyes were met by chocolate brown ones, framed by so many freckles. fred lived in this place? "it's good to see you again, miss y/n l/n," he grinned and oh my oh my, y/n felt her heart skipping beats all over again. fred was worried when there was silence, but he was pleasantly surprised when he felt arms wrap as much as they could around his waist. true to his nature, his cheeks turned as red as his hair. he breathed in the smell of her hair, the smell of her and oh he had missed her so much. "i missed you a lot," he mumbled, tightening his grip around her, "so so so so so much." "me too, freddie," there that nickname was, and it made him possibly weak at how pretty she was and how pretty her voice was. when she let go, he almost felt empty, and so he snaked an arm around her waist. "your place is so beautiful, freddie!" his secret was that he had bought it hoping that she would

live with him. he knew she loved beautiful windows and bay windows and balconies. "not as beautiful as you, lovely." and his eyes were graced by her flustered expression, her cheeks tinted the most delightful shade of pink. "but the windows! gosh they're pretty." "wanna live with me?" he dropped the question ever so casually. "are you sure? i've got an apartment set up and all so it's no big deal-" "no. i want you to live with me." "then your wish is my command, i guess. i don't have much stuff though." "that's fine! i knew you would say yes so i got a bedroom ready for you." she hesitated. fred looked at her. "is everything okay?" "i-i don't want you to think that i'm best friends with you because you're rich or whatever and i feel like i'm taking advantage of your richness and it's not right?" "you're not, okay?" she nodded, still hesitating a little bit. "if you really feel bad you can come visit me and george in the shop and do some type of customer service. you'll be paid." "am i paying rent if i live here?" she asked. "no, y/n, i own this place." "don't you pay land tax?" "yeah, but it's not that much." "nope, i'm paying rent or you're not paying me for the shifts i do. or both. take your pick." "i won't pay you for the shifts. is this really a big deal?" "yes it is! it's money and morals. that's a very big deal." "okay, fair." "gimme a list of all my shifts please." "nah, you pop in whenever you can." "okay, when's rush hour?" "hogsmeade weekends and thursdays." ☆ it was night. y/n couldn't sleep at all. she was lying in the insanely boujee king sized bed and the insanely comfortable sheets, and she still couldn't fathom why she couldn't sleep. maybe it was because she always slept with one eye open in albania. habit. so she was just sitting in her bed, looking around the room. she was tired, but she couldn't be untired. and it would be selfish to disturb fred. but he had said his door was always open. so she crept out and made her way through the corridors, finally stopping at a door which she hoped was fred's bedroom. it was half ajar, so she peeked her head around it. he was asleep, a very thin blanket draped carelessly around his body, his ginger hair messy and his chest rising with every peaceful breath he took. his room was big and simple, cluttered in the most fred way. she approached him, tapping him on the shoulder lightly. "freddie??" he opened his eyes drowsily, "mmm?" "i can't sleep." "'ave you tried countin' broomst'cks?" "i can't sleep." "'kay," he pulled her into his bed, wrapping his arms around y/n and tucking most of the gryffindor red blanket under her chin. it smelled like him, "this 'kay?" fred was shirtless. y/n was blushing. "yeah." "mm, have a good night, okay? i'm here, you're safe." y/n nodded, feeling the most comfortable she had in two whole years, cuddling up to his chest as she fell into sleep. sleep. she hadn't properly slept in two whole years. every night would be spent either patrolling or anxiously preparing for the next day. when she did get some shut-eye, it was broken and restless. but her dreams were stopped with visions of terrifying death eaters casting sectumsempra onto the auror unit. she felt the pain she had endured through a long time ago. it left a scar on her back and imprints in her mind. it was impossible to forget. she remembered yelling as she saw another auror drop dead. running, running out of the hellhole of the death eater's base. "y/n, y/n," fred was shaking her awake. she was shaking, tears were running down her face. she fervently apologised to him. "don't say sorry, lovely," he wiped the tears off of her face, "what was your dream about?" "t-the mission, the death eaters w-were cutting people up and they got me." "oh darling, why didn't you tell me this before?" he asked gently, cradling her head to his chest. "it, it comes out at the worst times." "well you're not in albania anymore, okay, love? you're here, in london, and you're safe. you're okay, you're fine." she nodded, "sorry." "don't you dare,

it isn't your fault. sleep, okay? i'll wait for you to go to sleep before i do, yeah?" she nodded. her head fell onto his chest and fred traced gentle patterns on her back, whispering small nothings in her ear. for the first time, it seemed like fred could watch her without repercussions. even with her tear-stained cheeks and wild hair, she was beautiful. and when he had stayed up for hours into the night and morning for this girl, this was when he realised. he would do anything for her. he loved her.

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

between lightning and thunder|harry styles.

summary: he’s your best friend’s boyfriend, you have feelings for him, you know the drill.

“In thunderstorms, you count the seconds in between the lightning and thunder, the more you counted the furthest the lightning had struck. 5 seconds equals 1 mile. In matters of the heart, and considering this situation. The more you counted, the closer you were.”

word count: 7k

pairing: Harry Styles x reader

warnings: alcohol mention, a bit sad, Little Prince, some songs.

PART TWO: thunderstorms and shooting stars PART THREE: stars and fate

So, here’s my first official Harry Styles one shot (kind of two-part one shot), thanks to @peachybloomss and @laurieteddy for helping me out with beta reading. Yes, there will be part two if you guys want it. I’ll see if you like it, please send feedback, reblog, be kind.

The rain pattered against the asphalt, now bright and dense, reflecting the tinkling lantern that barely gave an excuse of light to the street. There you were, in that corner, shading the sidewalk with those sneakers that used to be white. You were getting wet, that was an understatement, you knew you would have a cold the very next day. You clutched your dark blue umbrella as you waited for a miracle.

You saw the sky light up and counted the seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

The lightning struck with such a crash it made you shiver.

It seemed like it was the worst day of your life. It probably wasn't, but that's how it felt. It is difficult to understand why a relationship ends. It’s even more difficult to understand when you’re an outsider. You were not one, though, not really. You wished you were.

Your best friend’s boyfriend, now ex. Probably ex.

Harry.

You saw him, right outside of the building where you were supposed to be in, leaning to give a shoulder to your friend. You would, of course.

But you wondered what would happen if you didn’t. If you instead went to him. Of course the imagination can go as wild as we let it go but this was just not what you needed.

Harry.

It felt weird, and you didn’t know if she’d seen her. He was pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to breathe in. They’d probably had another fight. One of those loud arguments where both of them made absolutely no sense at all. The relationship both of them were fighting for but there was barely any relationship to be saved at all.

Harry.

There are secrets in life we all like to keep. This was one you’d kept for a long while right now.

But you didn't know how longer you could keep it. You were in love with your best friend’s boyfriend. Probably ex now. Who wouldn’t be?

It was the same old story, coming of age kind of story with no happy ending whatsoever and which led to this absolute mess, with every day your feelings growing deeper. It was your fault for becoming so close to him.

You saw him again, cursing at the rain as his hair was soaking, he only cursed between his teeth again as he was debating whether or not to go back into the building, he kicked the puddle forming in front of him and groaned. That’s when he saw you.

With your dark blue umbrella, and coat. Calmly watching him, not moving, not doing anything at all.

You wondered if he knew.

If he’d ever notice how your eyes brightened up when he was in the room. Maybe he had, all those years, with you in the shadows.

When you met him, him sitting down with some friends, they’d introduced you to one of his, and Sierra had insisted on pairing you up with that guy. Teenage years, when one escapes to parties and tries not to come back home drunk for your parents to notice. A Halloween party, you’d dressed up as Wednesday Addams, he’d dressed up as Elton John.

You had noticed him first, his green eyes had crossed with yours. It wasn’t really his zone, it had seemed. Sierra had caught his eyes, though.

You barely remembered anything from that party, it was like any other party from that time. Drunk teenagers, gathering around to smoke and play a bare excuse of beer pong.

It had been raining but it had stopped, that you could remember. You had gone outside, tired from the buzzing music that you could barely recognize, just loud strums and unnecessary words put together. Songs talking about material things and partying. Not feelings.

You remembered walking outside to the wet grass and you avoided some other people making out on the floor, Britney Spears making out with Frankenstein, that was something. Some other kids yelling through their phones as they assured their parents they weren’t drunk when they clearly stung like warm cheap beer.

You didn’t remember why you had walked out. But you did remember seeing him there, too.

“Got bored of the games?” He asked you, he was leaning against the wall.

There it was, the reason you went outside. He had intrigued you, why hadn’t he stayed with his friends? Why was he staring at the night sky? Was he that drunk?

You had crossed a few words with him throughout the party, nothing important or particular. Very… forgettable. You’d played beer pong against him and his friend, the one Sierra had insisted that he liked you.

But nothing too important.

However you’d seen him walk out. It had awakened something in you.

“I’m terrible at beer pong,” you admitted. “Not even risking playing.”

“That’s the fun of beer pong, though,” he commented. “Ge’ing your ass drunk enough.”

You chuckled. “Well why aren’t you playing anymore?”

“I’m too good,” he sassed. “Ain’t nothin’ fun in that,” he pointed out. “So, Wednesday Addams, huh?”

“Yes,” you smirked. “Be afraid, be very afraid.”

“You’re too smiley to be Wednesday, very pretty smile,” he grinned.

“Thanks, Elton,” you grinned. You didn’t know if the warmth in your body was from embarrassment or if it was the effect the alcohol was having on you.

He winked at you. “So, no beer pong for me.”

You rolled your eyes, and laughed a little. “I’m sure that’s not the reason why you’re here outside, your friends are having fun.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I just came here to see the sky—That sounds so pretentious.”

“It does,” you conceded. “But I’ll give it to you, it’s pretty, can’t judge you, I partly came outside for it, too.” Although you hadn’t. It was no secret his eyes had staggered in your mind for the whole night and that the constant smiling had caught your attention.

He had smiled, you still remembered it to this day. “Haven’t had a clear sky in days,” he commented.

You shrugged, “haven’t noticed.”

“You haven’t noticed,” he sounded incredibly offended, “didn’t you miss this?” He pointed at the sky, he was just slightly tipsy you could tell. “The stars?”

That had made you smile and even laugh. “Oh, yes. I missed it, I just hadn’t realized how much.”

“You hadn’t noticed how much you missed this beautiful night sky!” His movements were big, hands up in the air. He even caused some of the other teenagers to stop making out.

“Shh! You’ve interrupted them!” You pointed out as the couple walked away angrily.

“Tha’s great! Look at the sky fellas!” He reached out for them.

You laughed. “Oh my god.”

“Huh, they can be horny teens else here. Why ruin m’moment with the sky and a beautiful girl,” he grinned at you. “This only happens in the movies!” He yelled again.

You couldn’t help but blush and cling to the red cup in your hand. He was drunk.

“In the movies though, the guy isn’t as drunk,” you mocked.

“I’m not even that drunk love,” he said. “I’m just concerned how you haven’t noticed the stars.”

“I had noticed the moon was gone,” you admitted. “Bigger fan of the moon, alright?,” you said. “Right up there, see it?”

“She’s gorgeous,” he grinned. You stared at it, bright and round, and you turned to him shining bright enough in his nose. “She’s the love of my life,” he stated.

You had chuckled. “It’s a shame she disappears once every month.”

“She’s reborn,” he chuckled. “Maybe we should learn from ‘er, huh?”

“Really?”

“Each month she rises up again and she’s beautiful in each one of her stages,” he commented, “no matter if she’s on her way to the darkness, she’s stunning.”

You only scrunched your nose. “We’re getting a bit too poetic, are we?”

He laughed. “Maybe,” he admitted.

“I’m kidding, I like that,” you’d said. “We should all be like the moon.”

“Hm, but if we were, who’d be the stars,” he commented. “It’s funny, we take the stars for granted but y’know what?” He chuckled. “Each one of ‘em is very particular.”

“No one would notice if a star was gone,” you pointed out.

“I would, the sky would look sadder,” he said. “And even if I love the moon, everyone does really, the stars are what paint the night sky so beautifully.”

“Well the moon works hard to be seen,” you grinned. “I think we should compliment her effort.”

“What about the stars? They’re so far away yet they’re freckling the dark sky,” he smiled and then turned to you.“This does feel like a movie scene, innit?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“It’s not one,” he added. “Or else you would’ve kissed me.”

You coughed, blushing. You had felt butterflies. The kind of butterflies that hadn’t disappeared in all those years. “Yeah, it’s not—Not a movie scene.”

You should’ve kissed him, though. But he hadn’t kissed you either so maybe that was the answer you needed.

“Is it the Wednesday Addams in you?” He wondered with a chuckle.

“Maybe,” you shrugged, trying to get as serious as you could.

He blushed. “What would you do if a guy worshiped and adored you? Who'd do anything for you? Who'd be your devoted slave? Then what would you do?”

“I’d pity him,” you quoted Wednesday.

He laughed. “You do know her, great.” He kept staring at the sky. “It would be great if a shooting star passed by, would add to it.”

“Shooting stars, are they like the moon?” You asked.

He chuckled. “No, they’re one of a kind and shall be treasured. If you miss your shot then it’s gone, you should take the chance when you get it.”

“Never thought of it that way,” you admitted.”hm who would’ve thought a drunken teenager dressed as Elton John would teach me of this.”

“A wise drunk teenager dressed as Elton John,” he corrected. “You’re a lil’ bit tipsy yourself huh.”

You grinned. “Yeah, just a little.”

“Besides, you proved my point!” He chipped. “You hadn’t noticed the stars!”

You smiled. “Now I will, I guess, thanks Elton.”

“I love the stars,” he pointed out. “Shame they’re barely seen.

“The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart,” you said.

“The Little Prince,” he grinned. “You know that book?”

“Everyone knows it,” you chuckled. “But yes, it’s my favorite.”

“But everyone barely does,” he grinned. “It’s my favorite book, too, read it each year.”

“Me too,” you beamed. “Helps me out when I’m lost.”

“I always learn something,” he said.

You grinned.

“I’m Harry,” he had introduced himself to you. “Harry Styles.”

And it rolled on the top of your tongue every now and then, that named you crushed and cursed. It had lingered until now. Of course his stupid name was perfect, too.

You should’ve kissed him or ran along with his—had he attempted to flirt? Was he trying that? You knew you had liked him. One of those stupid connections, like he’d said. It had felt like one, one of those coming of age films. But it wasn’t.

Short conversation that you couldn’t quite put your head to it. Didn’t make any sense, if you were honest. You should’ve kissed him, and to this day you still wondered what would’ve happened if you had.

The story of how Harry and Sierra had officially met was his favorite to tell. He’d say it over and over, how a beautiful girl dressed like Puglsey Addams, because of course best friends always match, had accidentally ran to him and he’d spilled his drink on her moments after meeting you. How he had helped her in the bathroom to clean herself and they’d instantly laughed. How he had fallen in love with her the second he’d met her.

Funny.

They had walked out of that party, they’d probably gone for a walk. You remembered it. How since that day you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

How since that day you always stared at the night sky and watched the stars.

Funny thing, he was the one to call you out for being in love with the moon and never paying attention to the stars, yet he had never noticed you. Taken you for granted.

You couldn’t blame him, after all, the moon was the love of his life.

You’d grown fonder of him, and Sierra had made sure you both got along.

“My best friend and my boyfriend have to get along.”

You shouldn’t have, though. Because with time you both were hanging out a friendship was forming, from his side. And then a growing feeling in yours.

Had he ever noticed?

Each time Sierra dragged him so you wouldn’t feel left out, but it was counterproductive because you’d fall for him. Because it seemed that his jokes were just made for you, and you couldn’t help but think that you were meant to be.

Maybe he’d noticed that time near her birthday, years ago, when he’d call you to bake cookies together for your friend. He probably had noticed then. Maybe he had felt something, too.

Licking a spoonful of cookie dough, and laughing against each other, how he would hide his smile, and how he’d give you those shy green eyes before avoiding a laugh when you’d said a very bad joke.

How both of you were tiptoeing and dancing in the kitchen, music playing loud, as you were sitting on the counter and he leaned against it, scrolling on his phone as he played songs.

“Okay, so this,” Harry had said, “this is one of my favorites,” he said before a guitar started to play.

“The Zombies, She’s not there!” You guessed quickly. “A classic, please, you have to be kidding me, play something difficult.”

“How do you know it?” Harry frowned, jokingly turning to you. “I swear—“

“I love them, what do you mean?” You chuckled.

“But you’ve guessed every single song I’ve played,” he pointed out very dramatically. “Every single one, I swear Sierra wouldn’t have guessed one.”

“Sierra has bad taste in music,” you pointed out. “I love her, but really, but she’s got great taste in cookies so she’ll love this.”

Because you knew him. Sierra dated him but you knew him. And sometimes you wondered how Sierra couldn’t really see his magic.

You couldn’t stop thinking about it, back then, how you fit so well together. How your laugh would synchronize with his and how every single joke he’d make, no matter how stupid, was funny to you. The way you’d try to hide some smiles, and how the tension would be broken when she arrived. She whom he loved.

A usual friend. Should’ve remained as friends. You still were. You felt dirty each time they looked at each other, it hurt, so much. And they talked too cute, and they were always adorable.

You had to stop thinking about him.

Except you loved him, and you had realized it, that one time, around Christmas, one of those Christmas parties that you always had with your friends in which eventually Harry had joined in. You remembered how you got his name in Secret Santa.

Cozy night it was, they were cuddling each other.

You remembered how he had opened it, Love is a Dog From Hell by Charles Bukowski, a book he’d constantly mentioned, a book he loved. He had thanked you and hugged you and it had been the perfect Christmas present.

You knew that.

You saw them, kissing under that mistletoe that he’d jokingly placed on top of them. You wished you were her. Sierra being pretty and lovely. And Sierra having him.

But then he’d decided to give everyone presents, maybe for accepting him on your Christmas party, or whatever he meant. How he was the life in the party, and how he had made you smile.

And everyone got presents, and each of them proved how much he put thoughts into it, because he really wanted to make them. How he had given that one friend some brushes so they could paint, or a new camera to that other one.

You remembered how perfectly unevenly wrapped yours was, with that silly wrapping paper that had little Santas on it. He probably had wrapped it himself, you could see how it was cut, and the tape all over it, with a hand-made bow, so pretty. It felt warm, and it felt like him. You opened it, he told you you could rip it off, and you hadn't, you had so slowly opened it, you still kept that wrapping paper to this day. The Little Prince. As if he was joking with you.

He had only winked at you, probably unaware that he was digging a deeper way into your heart.

And you kept loving him, watching him from afar as they kissed over and over again.

How you’d help her with gifts for him, when his own birthdays came around, like when you told her to give him more rings for his fingers, because you knew him. And how he would share his news with you first because he knew you’d listen.

You wondered if Sierra ever noticed he was more than the guy who had nice clothes, and the guy with that pretty smile. Did she ever stop to listen to his thoughts? Those that came at 2 in the morning. Those you’d been able to listen to at a party, where both of you were away from the crowd as Sierra was partying with some other of your friends.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Harry had asked you, that New Years party. They had kissed at midnight, of course. He had brought his guitar, a new habit that he had earned over the time. You loved every time he sang, raspy and quiet. Over the years he’d sing more and more with you, and less and less with crowds. He thought nobody wanted to listen, you did, you always wanted to listen.

You only looked up to see her, she was. Dancing as the lights were jumping around with her, the music bouncing with her. Harry had his fingers brushing against the strings, barely stroking it, as he was so mesmerized watching Sierra. You always wanted to be seen that way, you never would.

You could never be Sierra, and of course, why would Harry ever turn to love someone like you? When Sierra was so perfect and lovely.

You’d never say anything, maybe Sierra did notice. But she trusted you.

“Yeah,” you had answered. You had been cold.

He could tell, you knew that.

“You’re cold,” he pointed out matter-of-factly.

“I am,” you admitted. “Tis cold, though.”

“You’re never cold, though,” he pointed out.

“I am today.”

“I’m not cold,” he had said. “Want my jacket?”

And he had given it to you, and Sierra had seen it. And she didn’t mind. Because Sierra trusted you, and she trusted him.

So she didn’t mind when Harry had taken your hand to shove you into the dancefloor with him. Sierra had said it once: ‘he sees you as a best friend, I think he’s claiming you’.

And you remembered being silly while dancing with him, how he put his hands in fists and shook them in front of his chest, giggling to himself, and gave you that damned smile. And by then by that time you aready had your own way with him, always singing to each other, being stupid really.

Heroes by Bowie was playing, a song he loved, and you did too.

“Just for one day.”

You still thought it was your song.

And though you were the one to wear the sweater, she’d be the one to go home with him. So in love. It didn’t matter.

But life goes on, the birds sing, the sun keeps rising.

It had been a long time since you thought of him that way, he was just one more, another broken heart. And you knew it, that life does not stop, she did not either. And crying for a love that never had a chance to be sounds foolish, insensitive and useless.

At some point you did move on. Because you had to, and you wanted it to pass but then it would always come, how he’d smile at you and you’d think of it, the start that one time when you should’ve done something.

And it was weird listening to Sierra talk about him, she was so desperately in love with him. That’s what mattered, they made each other happy. And so, so happy. And though it hurt, you knew it had to be that way.

You were the one to listen to both of them, whenever they had a small fight or whatever, both sides. You usually agreed with both, honestly, but always took Sierra’s side. She was your best friend, after all.

And you couldn’t tell the world that he made you oh so happy, and you new Sierra probably didn’t even think of it, because you weren’t obvious and you had dates of your own, you dated other people of course, but you always ended up wondering what would happen between you and Harry.

It probably didn’t ever occur to Sierra. Not to Harry either, probably. Because everything was so platonic. Like when he picked you up in the middle of the night just because he wanted to drive around the city, whenever him and Sierra had a fight and he needed to understand her and he knew that the way to understand her was through you. And you’d end up sitting on the trunk of his car, watching the stars, listening to him, making him laugh until the sun was rising.

You knew everything about him, meaning behind every single tattoo, favorite movie, favorite song. You always had to stop yourself, so patient, but sometimes you couldn’t help it, your hand would brush his hair and you’d think about it, if you could only kiss him. Would it feel the way you dreamed of it?

An indentation between you and him, always stepping back. But then he’d smile at you and you’d want to close it. Please, please, please, just once. How would it feel? To seal the notch, close the gap.

And once it had happened. Nothing serious, really. A few years ago, around spring, nothing serious. Not at all. It was an accident.

Really was, of course.

Harry had been excited about Spring, and Sierra always said that whenever spring came around love was in the air, and Harry wanted to plan out a picnic for Sierra so of course he asked for your help.

It had been so stupid, an accident. He had asked you to go to the supermarket with him, and you were prancing around, laughing and having fun. He was always so sweet when it came to be so domestic. He was singing in the hallways as he was choosing the pastries, picking out the wine.

“Something in the way she moves,” he sang along to the song, hand movements as he reached out for a feeling with his hand, exaggerated movements as he threw his head back.

“The Beatles,” you said, matter of factly. But you knew the Beatles weren’t singing that version. It didn’t feel like a usual supermarket song, but he was moving his head and singing.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “However, they’re not the-”

“Not the ones singing, I know, that’s a woman,” you answered before he could fight back.

He giggled, “Yea, this is Phyllis Dillon,” he pointed out. “Such a song. I’m impressed, y/n, you didn’t know her.”

“Didn’t, now I do,” you grinned. “Unusual song for the supermarket.”

He watched you, tiredly with that bright smile that could light up the entire world. Sunlight.

“This is going to sound rude,” he said.

You raised your brows at him.

“But like, if Sierra and I ever break up who’s gonna keep you?” He joked.

You had laughed. “Like a dog?”

He scrunched his nose. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Oh, I’m most certain you did,” you teased.

“Did not.”

“Well I don’t think you guys will break up,” you had said, and you had meant it, because you really didn’t want them to. He made your best friend happy and your best friend made him happy. All that matters.

He smiled, “you think?”

“Yeah, I’m making sure you don’t,” you winked at him. “Also, that wine, Harold?” You asked before putting it back and choosing a better one.

“Thanks for helping me,” he had said. “Y’er always such a good friend.”

“Just making sure everything is—“

“Perfect for Sierra, I kno’,” he smirked. “And you always make sure tis perfect for me too.”

You grinned. “I'm the mastermind behind the relationship.”

And the problem was he had leaned over to kiss your cheek, you guessed in an attempt to thank you for being a friend, but it had been an accident or maybe you had turned to him, subconsciously longing for your lips to meet his. Barely a peck. Yet it had felt… electric. As if a lightning had just struck you.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

And he had backed away.

Had he felt it? That buzzing and flickering spark? That thunder You’d kissed.

In a grocery store. Planking a picnic for his girlfriend. Your best friend. This was wrong.

“I’m—sorry,” both of you had said at the unison.

“I—was going to—“

“I didn’t know—“

But both of you knew it had been four seconds. It’s funny, someone had once taught you to count the seconds between thunders and lighting. In thunderstorms, you count the seconds in between the lightning and thunder, the more you counted the furthest the lightning had struck. 5 seconds equals 1 mile.

In matters of the heart, and considering this situation. The more you counted, the closer you were. 4 seconds had been until he had pulled away.

4 stupid seconds.

Could mean a lot of things, could mean nothing.

Harry and you had stopped talking for a while after it happened. Neither of you told Sierra, but she had noticed you were avoiding her boyfriend which brought her to doubt him. No she didn’t think you had kissed. She thought you had fought or whatever she had come up with.

“Don’t you like Harry anymore? Why are you not hanging out with us anymore?” She had asked you.

“Maybe I don’t want to third-wheel anymore,” you snapped. “Enjoy your boyfriend, Sierra. I don’t have to be around twenty four seven.”

That’s when the problems had started. Not between you and Sierra, but him and Sierra. It was no secret you had been the “mastermind” behind their relationship. But you had walked out of there. However it had been coincidental, or so you told yourself. It didn’t really have much to do with you walking out.

Or had it?

You had guessed you’d feel that way each night, with the light of your phone illuminating your face while the dark room paled your tears. You’d see his initial on the screen, and doubt if calling was a choice. He was never a talker, really. He barely liked to speak up. He was more of...actions. So whenever he didn’t do anything, you knew something was up. He wasn’t... really, he wasn’t like this.

At least a text but he didn’t like texting. Nothing. His silent treatments were like others. The ‘H’ is silent, you thought to yourself.

Funny.

Sierra had mentioned he had been distanced. It was around the time you started dating Daniel. Danny.

And you saw Sierra arguing over and over through the phone, and coming back crying to your shared apartment. Giving her your shoulder to cry on.

She said that Harry had told her he wasn’t sure about it.

Which led to the first breakup.

One that didn’t really last. But you remembered it perfectly, you were at a museum, date with Danny. Nice, romantic.

And then you’d received a call, Harry. He hadn’t called you in a while and you weren’t sure why he had called you.

You had looked down at the caller ID. He wasn’t a texter, you knew that, but—you answered the phone.

“Hello? Harry?” You answered, with fear.

Danny hadn’t questioned you.

“Sierra and I broke up,” he stated.

You felt cold. “Oh.” Your first instinct had been to call your friend. See if she was okay.

“I—“he sighed. “I… can I see you?”

“I—sure but—“

“Okay, I’ll pick you up in ten,” he said. “Please don’t—“

“Oh, Harry I’m on a date right now.”

“You—what?”

“Yes I’m here with Danny,” you had said. “On a date.”

He had gone quiet, dangerously quiet.

“But-I’ll call you when I get home, alright?”

“Yeah.”

When you got home, Sierra had her door locked and didn’t want to talk to you.

“I need some time alone.”

And you had called Harry but he hadn’t answered.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four calls until he answered. Before you knew it, you were with him, driving again, he liked to drive, you knew that. To watch a sunset. As they said in The Little Prince, you see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad.

And he was sad, and he was quiet. ‘Could it Be Another Chance’ by The Samples was playing in the background.

“I guess Sierra told you,” he had said, gulping.

“She didn’t,” you said.

He hadn’t dared to look at you. It felt weird, you hadn’t talked to him a while and seeing him standing there with tears wanting to come down.

He coughed. “Well.”

“What happened?” You didn’t know.

He hadn’t answered, and there was that usual frown upon his face, thoughtful, very thoughtful and dark if he wanted it to be. He was sad or disappointed. You didn’t blame him, of course, breakups are hard enough.

“Dunno,” he admitted. Endless nightmare when he didn’t actually say what he wanted to. He actually had that habit, but he usually showed it, with his eyes.

“Then?”

“Are you afraid of me, y/n?” He blurted out the question.

“Why would I?”

“Not in the--scary way,” he said quickly. “But in the way that we both know each other,” he said. “The way that it feels off.”

“I’ve never felt off with you,” you admitted.

“That’s the thing,” he sighed. “That’s the thing,” he repeated. “I don’t get it,” he said.

“Did you feel off with Sierra?” You asked.

He didn’t answer. Maybe he should’ve.

“We haven’t talked for a while so I have no inkling on where you were standing,” you admitted. “Not from Sierra’s perspective, either.”

He shook his head. “That’s the thing,” he said for the third time. “That’s the thing.”

He had only turned the music louder, and sang along to it.

“Danny, then?” He asked eventually. “Danny?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“And do you feel off with him?” He asked.

“I don’t.”

He had clenched his jaw. “Is it going anywhere?” He asked. “Or is it like any other guy you’ve dated?”

“No.”

“You like him, right?” He asked.

You smiled, slightly, feeling warm on your cheeks. “I-”

“When someone blushes, doesn't that mean 'yes’?” He asked.

You didn’t answer.

“I’m just, I’ve been wondering I’ve always wanted to feel with Sierra the same way I feel with you,” he had said. “Not in-”

“Harry that’s-”

“Sounds mental, doesn’t it?” He sighed. “To want a friend in someone you love.”

“Someone you love should be a friend,” you said. “But I…”

“Did you ever wonder about it?”

“About what?”

He shrugged. “If that night I had ran into Wednesday instead of Pugsley.”

“You did run into me,” you pointed out. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Yeah, could’ve been.”

But it had you thinking. Maybe it had been stupid, but you had broken up with Danny after a few weeks of thought. Or maybe led Danny to break up with you because you had been off. And it had felt off, and it hadn’t but with one simple question Harry had made, it had you thinking.

And maybe it was stupid to think that now that Harry and Sierra had broken up you could simply get your shot, but he had been the one to say it, hadn’t he?

Shooting stars are chances. And he was one and you hadn't taken it.

Just after you’d walk in to your apartment with Sierra, you’d seen them kissing again. They were back together.

So there was your chance, gone again but then again it was stupid to think that you could get a shot, besides it was Sierra’s boyfriend.

Yes, heartbroken you were.

And it continued, for a long while. They were fine again and you had to be quiet again. Halloween, Spring, New Years, Christmas, Birthdays, parties, every single season they were there. All the time. And they were fine. For most of the time, other times not so much, and the second, and third breakup came around. Yet, they always got back together, even with all the fighting and yelling which you never understood, not really. Why would anyone stay in a relationship like that?

You guessed that at the end of the day they still loved each other, and their fights were simply stupid and they always, always, always got over them. You didn’t, you remembered them yelling and fighting and just searching for an excuse to stay together, and then they’d kiss and forget it and they’d be calmed.

It still ached, to have him around nd think of the stupid ‘what if’ that would certainly never come because even if you were given the chance, you’d never take it because Sierra was and would always be your best friend.

Did she know? Had she seen it? The way your world stopped when Harry was around? How you’d make time for him or how whenever he was around you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Your bright and true smile, and how you’d listen to every song he told you to, or how you’d always be there to listen to him, no matter the time.

How you looked away each time they kissed and how you wished you could find someone like him and yet it wouldn’t be enough because it wouldn’t be him. Because his mind was the place where you wanted all your secrets to be hidden. His lips were the only one thing that could make you feel, or so you thought, that could make you get to paradise. His voice was supposed to tell your story, and his ears were meant to listen to you.

Yet, it was Sierra.

Not you.

Sierra.

And Harry would tell her. He loved her, he lived for her, spared his entire life and love for her. And though you knew they weren’t happy, you wondered if you were allowed to tell them. Maybe you were biased, and you did hear them say how they loved each other but then it… You could tell it was off.

The moment you had given up had been barely a few weeks ago, finally given up. You remembered how he had asked for your help.

“I’m picking out a ring, y/n.”

“Another one?” You had chuckled. “You’ll need more fingers, Harold.”

“For Sierra.”

“Oh, she’s not really a ring person-” you had started.

“No, I… y/n I’m asking her to marry me,” he had blurted.

You had paused.

“Seems like it’s time,” he said. “And she’s been hintin’ it. Doesn’t get any better than this.”

It hurt. But you had gone with him.

Walking through the store, seeing rings and rings, jewelry.

“I dunno anything ‘bout marriage,” he admitted. “It’s ironic, I love rings yet this one I can’t seem to know….”

“This one is pretty,” you had pointed out at one.

He had made a face, scrunching his nose. Always making faces.

“Why are you doing this?” You had questioned.

He had looked up at you. He knew why you were asking. Because things hadn’t been right but he probably thought this was the way to make things right, but he probably wanted you to question him. Harry couldn’t be tied, yet this seemed like he was tying himself.

It made you sad, how he had lost what made him oh so beautiful, oh so perfect. His freedom. He was willing to take away his freedom. Not because marriage per se was taking away someone’s freedom but for Harry this particular decision seemed like it was.

He didn’t smile anymore, not that much, he wasn’t as silly.

“She’s my moon,” he had said.

“Yet I remember you were a bigger fan of the stars,” you had called him out.

“The shooting star passed, y/n, this is what’s meant to happen, I lost a shooting star, but I love the moon,” he said. “The moon is meant to be loved.”

“Marriage won’t solve your problems.”

“I know, but it might make me get back to my senses, I’ve spent all these years with her, I love her, that’s it, no other explanation, and that’s--”

“Harry.”

“it is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important,” he quoted.

“Love doesn’t mean wasting time.”

And the conversation had continued and you kept playing it over and over your head, and tried to understand if this was your fault, which you were sure led to the fourth breakup, to the one you probably were witnessing now.

To this day, of you standing with your dirty sneakers, with two options. To offer a shoulder or to finally try and fight for something that probably would never work. To risk everything for once.

Standing with your umbrella, watching him staring at you. Wondering what could’ve happened if it had been Wednesday instead of Pugsley. Wondering what would’ve happened if you kissed him. Wondering what would’ve gone by had you made a wish to that shooting star.

You were willing to do it. Risk it all to count the seconds between the lightning and the thunder.

part two: thunderstorms & shooting stars

part three: stars and fate

I’ll tag some friends who might like this:

@saintlavrents @annathesillyfriend @tanyalooovesyou @harrysrightchelseaboot @harrysleftchelseaboot @wholesomestyles @whatevsholland @eerieharrie @pparkeramorr

#harry styles #golden #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles ff #bl&t

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Bonus Scene Two (Gwynriel)

Masterlist

a/n: this picks up right after nesta leaves gwyn’s apartment in Part 24. warning for discussions of sex, obviously.

***

As soon as the apartment door shuts after Nesta, Gwyn releases a breath and turns to Azriel with a wide gaze. “Do I really have to teach you guitar?” she says.

“Of course not.” He rolls his eyes. It was a throwaway line meant to get Nesta off his back, and even she didn’t entirely believe it. He moves toward the kitchen to get a glass of water, still shaken from Nesta storming into Gwyn’s bedroom like that. Not that she interrupted much. Gwyn still has a long way to go before she can handle anyone touching her between her legs, Azriel thinks.

He never asked Gwyn what a twenty-seven year old woman was so afraid of sex for when she first suggested her proposal to him. She looked so scared that he would question her that he couldn’t bring himself to poke even a little bit. Not that he needs to poke. He’s not a fucking idiot, and Gwyn’s thighs had been trembling in involuntary fear under his hands earlier. She’s been hurt.

For her sake, he pretends to remain ignorant and incurious, but right now his grip on the glass in his hand is so tight it might shatter. His face remains cool as he pours himself water.

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Gwyn hops up onto the kitchen counter and swings her freakishly long legs. “About what you get out of our deal?”

“I don’t expect you to teach me sex for free, obviously,” Gwyn blabbered the day after they got back from the ski lodge. “You can ask for something from me, too. Even money, if that’s your thing.”

Prostitution was not Azriel’s thing, though he wouldn’t knock it. The truth was that his brain had started turning as soon as Gwyn told him about her idea, and now it couldn’t stop. Oddly enough, this opportunity was perfect.

“Tell Nesta that I’m using you as a rebound?” Azriel nearly snorts on his water. “Did you miss the part where she almost cut my dick off and choked me with it?”

Gwyn hums noncommittally. “Being a distraction from your ex is better for me than it is for you. It’s insurance that you won’t get any funny ideas.” She narrows her teal eyes at him. “If you find yourself moving on from Nesta’s hot sister, you better tell me right away. I’ll end this whole thing quickly and cleanly.”

“Why?” He thought moving on from Elain was the goal, one he was unlikely to achieve.

“You know.” She crosses her arms in an X over her chest like she’s warding him off. “You might catch—feelings for me.”

This time Azriel really does snort on his water, hard. His laughter turns into coughing when it slips down the wrong pipe, and liquid dribbles onto his shirt. Gwyn just sits there and stares at him in vague disgust.

When he’s done choking, he wipes his mouth with the hem of his tee and gasps, “Even without Elain, you wouldn’t need to worry about that. Trust me.”

Gwyn wrinkles her freckled nose in distaste. “I would be offended if I wasn’t so relieved.”

He’s still chuckling when Gwyn says cautiously, “By the way…” She chews on the inside of her cheek. “Did you really ghost Elain?”

Azriel is no longer amused.

“When you said you broke up with her, I thought you actually broke up with her,” Gwyn continues. “I didn’t know you were one of those guys.”

Shame tinged with embarrassment floods Azriel, and he doesn’t have the slightest idea why. Why does it matter what Gwyn of all people thinks of him, especially when she doesn’t have all the details?

He thought he was making things easier for Elain by leaving without a word. He thought she would let him slip out of her mind after a couple of weeks just like he slipped out of her life, and that it would be better than having to hear him dump his insecurities on her.

He knows now that he was only making things easier for himself. Knows that if he had stayed and talked things out with Elain, she would have convinced him to stay. If he had called her at all in the past two months, he would have gone running back to Velaris like a sailor answering a siren’s song.

She’s always been a siren—which is why he can’t regret doing what would have happened eventually anyway. Even without that Vanserra bastard or some other man, Elain could never have been a permanent fixture in Azriel’s life. Little details sprinkled throughout their time together confirm that for him now.

That doesn’t mean Elain deserved it, or deserves it now. Azriel knows that.

But all he can think of to say to Gwyn is, “Yeah, maybe I am one of those guys.” He puts his glass in the sink. “You still want me as your teacher?”

Gwyn shrugs, looking away. “It’s not like I’ve got any other choice.”

Azriel would disagree. He says what he’s been thinking since they got back from Cassian’s birthday trip. “Wouldn’t you rather do this with someone you love and trust?”

“God no,” Gwyn snorts, providing no further explanation.

Azriel can understand being hesitant to admit sexual inexperience to a crush, but it doesn’t stop him from judging Gwyn’s new man. If this coworker of hers is so great, wouldn’t she be able to trust him unabashedly with her insecurities? Wouldn’t he readily accept her for all that she is?

Ugh, he’s been dipping into Nesta’s reading collection too much lately. “Alright, then.” He leans against the counter opposite Gwyn. “Let’s talk about learning. You clammed up in bed back there after ignoring my suggestions and shoving my head between your legs.”

“I clammed up because of my best friend barging into my room and catching us together,” Gwyn defends.

“Your pussy was dry as bread before that,” he retorts. Ooh, now he wants toast.

Gwyn turns a furious shade of red while Azriel starts looking around for bread. He finds it sitting by the toaster. “Can you not say that?” she hisses at him.

“What?” He looks up from dropping bread into the toaster.

“You know…” She glances around cautiously as if someone might overhear. “Pussy.”

“Pussy,” he says again, just to be annoying. Gwyn’s shoulders turn inward in embarrassment, and he has to hold back a grin. Yeah, she’s definitely not ready for oral.

He finds a butter knife and some peanut butter. “I told you to start easy and you ignored me. You tried jumping into the deep end without learning how to tread water.”

Gwyn scoffs. “And what does ‘treading water’ entail again?”

Azriel shrugs, plucking up his finished toast. “Making out, heavy petting, freshman-year-of-high-school kind of stuff.”

“I’ve done that before,” she mutters indignantly. “Maybe not in my freshman year, but I’ve done it.”

He wonders how long ago that was, or if it was before she was—hurt.

“Besides,” Gwyn goes on before he can push the matter further, “I’m not budging on kissing. I want to save that for the man I actually like.”

“You don’t like me?” Azriel raises a brow, slathering peanut butter over his toast. “You definitely don’t act the same with me as you do with other men.” Or at least that’s what he assumes. Up until a short while ago, he never would’ve been able to imagine timid Gwyn having the guts to ask anyone for sex ed. That’s got to make him special, right?

But then Gwyn waves him off and says, “That’s ‘cause you’re not a real man. I knew you before puberty.”

Azriel nearly drops his toast. “Wow, the nerve of this woman,” he mutters with wide eyes. If she keeps this up, he’s going to start regretting ever going to the same school as her. “That’s not what you said when you were going on about how attracted you are to me.”

“I said you were attractive, not that I was attracted.” Gwyn’s blush is more from irritation than shyness now. “You do the job, but you’re no Max.” She giggles at saying his name. Actually giggles. “I’ll only kiss Max.”

“What kind of stupid ass name is Max?” Azriel grumbles through a mouthful of peanut butter.

“It’s short for Maximillian.”

He chokes. “Jesus, that’s even worse.” He’s doing all this work for some guy named Maximillian. Maybe he should just go home and let Nesta give him the beating he deserves.

Except thinking about Nesta only reminds Azriel of what a coward he is, because he fears facing her again almost as much as he fears facing Elain. “By the way, could I…” he starts hesitantly.

Gwyn gives him a judgmental sneer. “You don’t want to go back to the cabin, do you?”

He shakes his head.

“You can’t stay here,” she responds, crushing his hopes. “I have plans tonight, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t let you be such a wimp.” She hops off the counter and comes over to him, surprising him by grabbing both of his shoulders. “Azriel,” she says somberly.

He swallows his toast roughly.

“You have to grow some balls,” she continues. “Not just for your sake, but for the sake of every poor woman in your life. Also, all this drama is personally a turn-off for me, which is detrimental to my sex education.” She wrinkles her nose. “Do better and all that, you know?”

Damn, okay.

Instead of standing there like an idiot, Azriel manages to say, “Fine, I’ll go.” He shoves the rest of his toast into his mouth and dusts off his hands, heading for the living room.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave right now—” Gwyn follows after him. Azriel is already on the couch, pulling a stray notepad and pen on the coffee table closer to himself.

He clicks the pen. “When’s that library guy planning to take you out?” he asks, starting to write.

Gwyn hovers near him, watching the notepad over his shoulder in confusion. “Um, this Saturday. Just a casual coffee shop thing.”

“Then I’ll see you on Friday.” He scribbles down some bullet points and labels the page LESSON PLAN. “Until then, think about a way to enjoy foreplay without kissing. Here are some suggestions so you can practice.” He tears the lined paper out of the notepad and hands it to Gwyn.

Her eyes skim over the page, brows rising with each point she reads. “Is all this really necessary?”

Azriel remembers how he barely brushed his lips against Gwyn’s core before having to pull away and kiss her quivering thigh instead. He can’t have sex with an unaroused woman, and he definitely can’t do it with a terrified woman. “Foreplay is absolutely necessary,” he says, getting up from the couch and stretching to his full height. Where Elain used to only reach his chest, Gwyn’s head almost reaches his nose. It amuses him for some reason.

“Do you like movies?” he adds. “I’ll take you to the movies on Friday.” Preferably something boring and played out, so the theater will be empty and she won’t be paying attention.

Gwyn’s eyes widen. “Is going on dates also part of foreplay?”

“It can be,” Azriel shrugs. It will be when he does it. He drops a hand onto Gwyn’s head and ruffles her hair. “I’d love to stay and help you study, but I have to go and grow some balls.” He mock-frowns at her as he heads for his shoes and keys. “See you later, Gwyneth.”

***

a/n: wait why do i wanna write the movie theater scene now… pls help me im just trying to finish this damn fic im getting too old for this

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99

#ncssianwrites #gwynriel #a favor #bonus scene

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floor-tiles · 2 years

Text

legend hurt/comfort ahahahagaceheveg

When he first woke up on Koholint, he thought he had died. That he was in Heaven. He was worried for a split second when he first saw the island girl and thought she was the princess. However, he realized that her hair was vermillion and not golden, and her eyes were a warm caramel colour, not azure. She wasn't wearing a crown, but she may as well have been from the halo of golden light around the back of her head.

When Link first looked up at her, he asked if she was an angel. Her face flushed slightly when she laughed, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She called him silly, and that he was safe there. The last thing he thought before he lolled off was that he would vow to make her laugh each day.

The second time he woke up on Koholint, the angel rushed to his bedside. She placed a gentle hand over his forehead. It was this moment that Link finally got a good look at her. She wore a bright red hibiscus flower in her titian hair that flowed down her back. She had ginger freckles placed intricately across her face, and her fluffy eyelashes were stunning. The fingers that clutched a bottle of medicine at her chest were long and nimble with pale pink painted nails. Her skin was tanned and smooth. Her lips were plump and looked soft, but her eyes were what finally took him in completely. They were the most gorgeous shade of hazel he had ever seen, and they sparkled in the sunlight that filtered through the windows.

She asked if he felt any better, and he tried to reply but all that came out was a jumbled mess of sounds. Her gaze softened, and she patted his cheek gently. She explained that he washed up on the shore of Koholint Island, and that she brought his shield up with him, but he needed to go get his sword on his own. She wished him luck, and he got up to go out and grab his-

"Legend! Leeeeegeeeeeend! Wake UP!" cried Wind, "You never take this long to wake, good goddesses!"

Legend squinted and blinked a few times, "I'm up, I'm up!" he replied, annoyed. He placed his hands behind his back to push himself up, his back cracking with each small shove. His mind went to his awfully wonderful dream, and the island girl with ginger hair. He stopped thinking about her immediately.

He got up, enjoyed Wild's fresh cooking, bickered with Warriors, and teased Hyrule and Wind. He did all he could to act like nothing happened, and nobody could tell that he had such an awfully wonderful dream once again. Plan: Success.

He didn't even think about the dream again until he went to sleep, and she was there again.

She told him that he had to go get his sword, that she couldn't come with and had to look after BowWow for a little while.

So, Link set off to find his sword. He avoided monsters on the way and slayed them on his short journey back from the beach. He got back to the angel's house, and she was laid back in her chair awaiting his return. She gasped and ran over to him. She loudly exclaimed that she had forgotten to introduce herself before. She said her name was Marin, and that she was a resident in Mabe Village. She also joked that she wasn't an angel, just a human. Link's face flushed at his mistake before saying that in that case she must've fallen from Heaven. He introduced himself as Link, Hero of Hyrule, Labrynna and Holodrum. She seemed taken aback by the large title before grinning. She exclaimed that Link must be her knight in shining armor if he's the hero of so many countries. Link grew a bashful smile and blushed.

Throughout his adventure on Koholint, an annoying owl told him what to do all the time. When he wasn't listening to the owl's instructions, he was spending time with Marin. Her singing was beautiful, and his ocarina playing wasn't the best, but they made due for when they played together. Link grew to love Marin, and Marin grew to love Link. They were practically joined at the hip, and when one wasn't with the other they appeared sad and lonely. One could say they were soulmates, two halves of a whole.

One time, Marin and Link were comparing beliefs. Marin explained how the residents of Koholint Island would leave offerings of the Wind Fish each Wednesday. Link explained how he went to the sanctuary each Sunday, and since he washed up on the shore he'd been dedicating a certain time each Sunday for prayers since there was no sanctuary or church here. They talked through the day and part way through the night about each other, themselves, and their deities. They were completely enamored with one another, and although they had only known each other for a year, it was clear they knew each other more than themselves. They could pick out every detail on the other's face from the countless hours of just talking together. Marin could point out the freckles that Link didn't even know he had and Link could point out when the hibiscus is Marin's hair changed. They loved each other, plain and simple. So when the owl told him to go to the Southern Face Shrine, he told Marin that he would be right back. So, he went, and-

"Legend! Are you alright?" Time shook him awake. Legend's body was drenched in sweat and tears began to gather at his eyes. He looked up at Time and wiped his tears.

"I'm fine. Just. Just a stupid dream."

Legend turned back over, but he never went back to sleep.

The next day, they were ambushed on their walk to Kakariko in Wild's era. Moblins and Bokoblins were everywhere, and there were a few Lizalfos near the sides of the battle. Legend was doing alright, but soon fell from the dull thwack of a Moblin's club. He cried in pain as he hit the ground before he blacked out.

It was a dream. It was all a dream. Koholint was never real, Tarin wasn't real, Grandma Yahoo wasn't real, Old Man Ulrira wasn't real, Marin wasn't-

Marin wasn't real.

It hit him like a ton of bricks. Marin wasn't real. His soulmate, the love of his life, wasn't real. She was just a part of the dream made by the Wind Fish. Link wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. How could God grant him access to such a paradise only for it to be fake? To be a dream? Link pushed away those thoughts. He couldn't put the blame on God, he didn't do anything wrong. It was the Wind Fish's fault. He dreamt up Marin. He dreamt up Mabe Village, Animal Village, Ukuku Prairie and the entirety of Koholint Island. This was his fault.

Link needed to say goodbye to Marin. He knew it was his duty as a hero to save Koholint, and he just wouldn't wake the Wind Fish. He would just get rid of the nightmares and call it a day. He would let the Wind Fish sleep, and he would rid him of nightmares so he could live in Mabe Village with Marin until they grew old. Link left to go find Marin.

Link cried out Marin's name. She turned around, and ran over to him, wrapping her arms around the short boy in a tight hug. She cried into his hair, before saying he was gone for days. Link apologized, wrapped his arms around her waist, and buried his face in her neck. If Marin could feel his tears on her shoulder, she didn't mention it. Link whispered many 'I love you's into her shoulder at that moment. They stayed tangled together, swaying in place before Link pulled away. He explained that it was time for him to wake the Wind Fish, and that he would be right back. He placed a hand on her cheek and wiped away her tears with his thumb. He placed his lips over hers in a loving kiss, and only pulled away for his lack of air. He held her hands with his, and said that he would see her once he woke up the Wind Fish. They kissed once more as a farewell, and Link went off to Tal Tal Heights.

He played the ocarina. He played the Ballad of the Wind Fish and all the instruments he collected played with him. He played the ballad, and it led him to the nightmares. He destroyed the nightmares, and he woke up the Wind Fish.

He woke up the Wind Fish.

Link fell to his knees and wailed. He failed. He was going to keep the Wind Fish sleeping so he could stay with Marin. He was going to stay with her, get married, grow old together and protect their new home. He could've started a family with her. They would've had a beautiful child, he could picture a baby with Marin's hair and his eyes. It would've been wonderful. It would've been perfect. But no. He woke the stupid Fish, and now all those possibilities were gone.

Link opened his eyes. He was hanging onto an old piece of his raft. He saw Koholint, and although he was as far from the island as he had been since he washed ashore, he thought that maybe he could swim over to the island again. All his dreams could come true, he and Marin would live happi-

The island disappeared. The stupid Wind Fish gave him a false sense of hope then made the island dissappear before his eyes. Link wept. He wept until he had cried his eyes dry, and it wasn't even until long after the ferry spotted him and brought him back to Hyrule when he stopped crying again.

"Legend? Are you alright?" Link- no, Legend felt a gentle yet rough hand on his shoulder. He winced, and opened his eyes slightly. He saw a woman with red hair looking over him, tending to his wounds. He was laid down on a… was that a bed?

"Marin?" he muttered.

The woman sighed sadly, "No, sweetheart. I'm not Marin. I'm Malon."

"Malon," he repeated her name back to her. He thought back to what happened.

"Moblin. Club hit me. Passed out. Hyrule?"

Malon looked over her shoulder and beckoned someone over. Hyrule, sweet, kindhearted and dense Hyrule peeked over her shoulder.

"Legend? Are you alright?"

Legend patted the side of the bed he was resting on. Hyrule walked over tentatively to Legend's side before he pulled Hyrule to his chest in a tight hug. He buried his head in Hyrule's neck and cried gently. Hyrule brought his arms around Legend's shoulders and placed a caring hand in his hair. He brought him tight into his chest. Legend gasped and went back to sobbing.

Malon rubbed Legends back gently, and Hyrule whispered into Legend's hair, "It's alright, Legend. You're safe here."

Legend knew he was safe, but that sentence from Hyrule just made him break down even more.

#linked universe #linked universe legend #linked universe headcanons #lu memes #linked universe warriors #linked universe wild #lu sky #lu wild

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