#Paris Bedroom Range | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sluts4matt · 8 months ago

Text

FIRST HIT

pairing: soft!chris x reader

summary: chris comes over to smoke, deciding he wanted his first time to be with you. although things take a slight turn.

warnings: SMUT, suggestive comments, use of weed, fingering, pet names, dirty talk, breeding kink (if you squint), praising

word count: 2440

author's note: i thought about this when i was getting ready to go to sleep ngl

you smiled down at your phone, excited and filled with joy that chris wanted you to be the person he smoked with for the first time.

him and his brothers were completely sober, had been since you met them basically when they first moved to LA. they didn't drink, didn't smoke, and didn't do drugs, so this was a huge step for him.

you slipped on your slides, pulling a 'fresh love' hoodie over your head and down your torso. you grabbed your car keys from the top of your vanity, leaving your bedroom and going out your front door.

you got in the car, setting your bluetooth up to play music. the beat of paris by $suicideboy$ rang through your car speakers.

you turned your head, looking out your back mirror before backing out of your spot.

you turned the wheel, beginning the drive to your destination.

it was a quick one, luckily, so you didn't have to deal with the traffic that the city was always experiencing.

you pulled up in the driveway of the house, putting your car in park and looking at your phone sending chris a 'here' message.

thirty seconds go by before he's coming out of the house, his hair falling in front of his eyes. he looked hot, you'd never deny it, but he was your best friend and you had to control yourself.

he walked up to the passenger side opening the door and sliding in, "always the passenger princess aren't you," you chirped mockingly, starting your car.

"suck my dick," chris mumbled playfully rolling his eyes. "mhm," you hummed, "what's this about you wanting to smoke?" you ask, glancing at him before your eyes go back to the road.

"oh uh," he says, rubbing his thumb and index finger together. "i don't know, just felt like it," he says. "so," he continues, "i was hoping you'd be the person who showed me."

you nodded, "i'd be honored christopher," you beam. chris adjusts himself in the seat as you drive, the faint sound of music playing in the background.

"what strain is it?" you ask, "something called peanut butter crunch," he stated, grabbing his bag. he started digging around, "homie said it was a hybrid," he added.

"ooh," you purred, "i've been dying to try that," you smiled. he chuckled, "yeah, well, looks like i'm gonna pop your cherry," he joked. you let out a fake laugh, shaking your head.

"tha- okay chris," you said, rolling your eyes. he snickered, pulling a few buds out of his bag. he looked down at them, turning his head and looking out the window.

he had a look of regret on his face, like he was questioning himself if he was making the right decision. "don't force yourself," you mumble, glancing at him.

"what?" he asks, looking back at you. "to smoke, you don't have to if you really don't want to," you say. he lets out a sigh, "no i wanna do this," he said, "just a little nervous," he continued.

"understandable i suppose," you shrug, pulling into your driveway. you park the car, taking the keys out of the ignition and getting out.

chris follows behind, following you inside and up to your room.

you shut the door, going to your desk and pulling out your grinder, as well as a few papers. you sat them down on your desk, then turning to the drawers.

you open one, looking for the lighter that you knew was in there. you found it, picking it up and turning around.

"give," you say, holding your hand out. chris' eyes looked at your hands, more specifically the fresh manicure that sat neatly on your fingernails.

he had always liked your hands, the way you painted your nails and the way the rings you'd wear would sit perfectly.

chris' lips parted slightly, his tongue running across the bottom one. his eyes fluttered back up to yours, giving you the bud.

you looked down, placing the paper down. you started grinding the weed up, watching the way it would fall out of the grinder and onto the paper.

you set the grinder down, looking up and noticing chris' eyes were trained on your hands, watching every movement carefully.

you decided to test something, though you had to do it anyway. you brought the joint up to your lips, your tongue darting out to lick at the paper.

you watched as chris' eyes fell to your tongue, watching it glide across the paper and wetting it. his tongue poked out slightly, mimicking your own actions.

you rolled it back up, placing it down. "all done," you chirped, turning around to grab the lighter.

you went over to your bed, sitting down and crossing your legs. chris followed, sitting down across from you.

you lit the joint, inhaling and feeling the smoke fill your lungs. you looked at him as you blew it out, a cloud forming around you.

"try," you say, holding the joint out to him. he took it hesitantly, bringing it up to his mouth and sucking in. his body shook a bit as he began coughing.

"woah," he choked out, handing the joint back. you laughed, bringing the joint back to your mouth and taking another hit.

he stopped coughing, his eyes meeting yours.

you blew the smoke out, your eyes not moving from his. the air felt thick, like it was filled with something.

he was staring, the only sound in the room was his breathing. "can we try something?" he mumbled, "i saw cj and his girl do it at his party the other night," he continued.

"uh," you started, unsure of what to say. "sure," you replied, taking the joint back from his hands.

"what is it?" you ask. he scooted closer to you, his thighs brushing against yours. his hands wrapped around your thighs, pulling you to his lap. you hovered over his clothed crotch area as he held onto your hips.

"said it was called shot gunning or somethin'" he said. you nodded, bringing the joint up to your lips and inhaling. you lowered your lips down to his, opening them and blowing the smoke into his mouth.

his lips latched onto yours, a hand going up to your face and the other resting on your hip. his fingers brushed the skin on your stomach, sending goosebumps up your back.

he kissed you softly, his tongue poking out and sliding along your bottom lip. you parted them, giving him access to explore your mouth.

his tongue darted inside, his fingers pushing the hem of your shirt up slightly, guiding your hips down. you ground your hips down on his clothed bulge, his lips parting and letting a small moan leave his throat.

his lips parted from yours, a string of saliva connecting your lips. he licked his lips, looking at you with big eyes.

"you okay?" you ask, running your hand through his hair. he nodded, leaning his head down and resting it on your chest.

you rubbed his back, his fingers tracing shapes into the skin of your stomach. "i-i wanna try something else," he mumbled, his voice muffled from the fact that his head was still pressed into your chest.

"alright," you say, a soft smile on your lips. he pulled away, his cheeks red and his pupils blown. he leaned forward, his lips latching onto yours again.

you kissed him back, your eyes fluttering closed. you could feel his hand tanging in your hair, a gasp leaving your lips when he tugged your head back to expose your neck.

he started kissing along the sensitive skin, his tongue darting out and running across the warm flesh. you grinded down on him again, his hand still on your hips.

you could feel his erection, a smirk pulling on your lips. he pulled away from your neck, his hands going to the hem of your sweater and tugging it over your head.

you threw it somewhere in the room, not bothering to pay attention. his hands went to your waist, his fingers trailing up and down the soft flesh.

"c-can i?" he mumbled, his voice a whisper. "of course," you breathed out, watching as his hands trailed up your back and reached to undo the clasp of your bra.

he unclipped it, sliding the straps down your shoulders and pulling the garment off. you tossed it, his eyes trailing down to your breasts.

you were average, not too big or small, but enough to fill his hands. his lips attached to your collarbone, leaving dark marks.

"chris," you whined, his mouth moving down and attaching itself to your nipple. his tongue swirled around the bud, his hand coming up and pinching the other one.

his free hand trailed down, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your sweats.

"can i?" he asked again, looking up at you with puppy eyes. "please," you whined, feeling his fingers slip under the waistband and into your underwear.

"fuck," he whispered, his fingers touching your soaked pussy. "all this for me?" he asked, looking at you with lustful eyes.

you nodded, bucking your hips into his touch. he took that as a signal, his fingers sliding along your wetness.

you whimpered, feeling his middle finger dip into your hole. his palm was rubbing against your clit, the sensation causing you to shake.

"god you're so tight," he moaned, his finger curling up and brushing against the spongy spot inside you. his lips latched onto your nipple again, his fingers working on getting you off.

"chris, oh my god," you whined, a knot starting to form in your stomach. he inserted another finger, the digits pumping in and out of your tight hole.

"please, please, please," you whimpered, rocking your hips and fucking yourself on his fingers. "that's it," he encouraged, his lips kissing along your neck.

"wanna see you come, wanna see you squirt all over my fingers," he cooed, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

"yes, yes, yes," you chanted, throwing your head back as his fingers picked up the pace. the knot in your stomach tightened, a loud moan leaving your mouth as his fingers curled up.

your orgasm hit you hard, a rush of liquid spurting out of your hole and drenching his fingers.

"good girl," he cooed, pulling his fingers out and sucking them into his mouth.

"fuck," you whispered, watching as he cleaned his fingers. he leaned forward, capturing your lips and letting you taste yourself.

"do you want me to-"

"no," chris interrupted, "just let me take care of you," he said, sliding your sweats and underwear down to the bend of your knees, his fingers reaching down and undoing the tie on his sweats.

you helped him, his hand slipping down into his underwear and pulling his dick out.

you licked your lips, staring down at the member in front of you. it was thick, not as long as you expected, but it was perfect.

a bead of precum dripped down the tip, chris' hand wrapping around it and jerking it slowly.

"can i," he started, looking up at you. you nodded, letting him guide you down so his cock was lined up with your pussy.

"tell me if i hurt you," he says, pressing the tip up against your entrance. you nodded, watching him slowly lower you down.

you winced at the slight sting, his hands rubbing the skin of your thighs. he pushed you down, sheathing his entire length inside you.

"fuck, fuck," you gasped, the pain subsiding and pleasure taking over. chris' lips were parted, a moan falling from his lips.

"so tight," he moaned, "fuck, gonna break my dick off," he joked, a giggle leaving his lips.

you let out a small laugh, the noise turning into a moan when he thrust up into you.

"shit, chris," you whimpered, his dick brushing up against that sweet spot almost immediately.

his hands slid down to your ass gripping the flesh, his nails digging into the skin as he lifted you up and pulled you back down.

you let out a string of moans, your hips bucking up into him as he bounced you up and down on his cock.

"god you look so pretty," he groaned, his thumb reaching up and brushing the bundle of nerves above where you were connected.

your head fell back, your eyes shutting and your mouth open in a silent moan.

chris was groaning, his hips meeting yours as you slammed down onto him.

"gonna cum," you moaned, "inside, please, cum inside," you pleaded. "fuck, you want me to breed you? you want me to make a mess inside you?" he grunted, his nails digging further into the flesh of your ass.

"yeah, yeah, want it, want it so bad," you cried, the knot in your stomach tightening.

"c'mon baby, cum for me," chris encouraged, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit.

your orgasm washed over you, a rush of warmth flooding the lower part of your stomach.

chris moaned, his grip on your hips getting tighter as he pounded up into you.

"yes, yes, fuck," you whimpered, your body going limp. chris flipped you over, pounding his hips into yours.

your head fell back onto the mattress, a series of gasps and whines leaving your mouth.

"so fucking tight," chris moaned, watching your eyes roll back. it gave him a complex knowing he was the one making you feel like this.

"c'mon chrissy, wanna feel you," you encouraged, your nails digging into his shoulder blades.

his eyes rolled back, a string of curse words falling from his lips. his hips stuttered, a groan leaving his mouth as he spilled his seed inside you.

he thrusted a few more times, making sure he was empty.

"shit," he whispered, his hand cupping your face.

"hey," he says, looking into your eyes. "hi," you giggle, reaching up and grabbing his face.

"can i kiss you?" he asks, his lips just barely ghosting yours. you nodded, letting him capture your lips in a soft, yet passionate, kiss.

"i like you," he mumbles, pulling away and looking at you. "well, no shit sherlock," you joked, laughing.

"no," chris sighed, his hand running through his hair. "i mean, like, i want you," he said, his words not making sense.

"like, i want to be your boyfriend," he clarified, "want you to be my girl," he continued.

you smiled, reaching up and running your thumb over his cheekbone. "christopher," you start, his eyes widening, "i want you to be my boyfriend," you finish.

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @lily-strnlo @etvar12 @iloveurgf @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolho @mayhem-72 @nicksmainbitch @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @catalina-island @stars4chratt @gbaabyyyy @monkeyscientist22 @skyslondon

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realprissygirl · 21 hours ago

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The 2010s Black Barbie Look

a deep dive on one of my fav sub styles ever. this aesthetic takes from the 2010s baddie, swag movement, and a lingering hyperfemininity from the 2000s that soon was obliterated by most brands a few years later. i’ve always been into this look as i was the intended audience. a teenage black girl in high school when this look took off.

the vibe ❤︎︎

“everyone was a barb. victoria’s secret was the go to place to shop on fridays after school. you were the cool girl if you had more than four beauty rush glosses. the scent of love spell filled your bedroom.”

biggest influencers

aaliyah jay

ella bandz

asian doll

cuban doll

nicki minaj

blac chyna

india love

kash doll

molly brazy

dream doll

shannade and shannon clermont

rico nasty

pattyeffinmayo

bali baby

color palette ❤︎︎

+ neon yellow/green, pinky purple

pink of course! very girly and femme. but a much wider range of shades vs today. there was a huge boom in neons too. (this tracks back to the return of the 80s/90s fashion elements) (i remember having this lime green PINK quarter zip that i loved so so much). also gray was a super popular accent color for fashion and interior. zebra print decor was a staple (seen in aaliyahjay’s and ellabandz’ bedrooms) because vs pink was so big, the white on hot pink polka dot pattern was seen everywhere from clothing to needing to girls decorating their rooms with VS PINK bags.

the staples ❤︎︎

fashion

aurora borealis swarovski crystal details

PINK

crop tops

fuzzy tops

heather gray

neon leopard print

white on pink polka dots

sequins

bamboo earrings

pink mcm bags

MICHAEL KORS EVERYTHING

ugg and bearpaw fur boots

juicy couture backpacks

pink timberland boots

beauty

mac cosmetics

anastasia beverly hills eyeshadow

eye glitter

cut creases

glued on rhinestones

colourpop ultra matte lippies

pale pink lippies

anastasia beverly hills dip brow

glitter gloss

mega volume bundles

too faced chocolate bar eyeshadow palette collection

deep side part sew ins

artist couture loose highlight

blinding highlighter

gigantic messy buns

sleek ponytails with swoop details

nyx soft matte lip cream

victoria’s secret beauty rush lip gloss

blonde blow outs

“coffin” nails

pink nails

blonde hair and dark roots

tartelette palette

poppin hoez lip gloss

essentials

hello kitty accessories like phone cases

3d phone cases

phone cases with sassy phrases

luxe addiction cases

fur keychains

pink beats

kendra’s boutique hair barb tools

iphone glitter skins

rose gold iphone

perfume bottle phone cases

fragrance

nicki minaj fragrances

victoria’s secret pink mists

paris hilton fragrances

ariana grande fragrances

versace bright crystal

core elements ❤︎︎

2010s black baddie aesthetic but hyper pink and girly, like the 24 year old baddie’s teenage sister

the omg girlz

harajuku barbie culture

bad girls club

the rise of the rapper gf archetype

nicki minaj’s transition from harajuku barbie to onika

the influx of “doll” female rappers

stripper influencers

#luvs it #certified princess! ❤︎ ྀི #❤︎ ྀི˖𓍢ִ໋

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avaf00rd · 8 months ago

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Little Shits 4

Arsenal wfc x teen!reader

Auswnt x Teen!reader

summary: you cherish some special and cheeky moments with you club team during your birthday week, and the end of Camp with you national team.

warnings: none, maybe that its edited shit - someone teach me to feel confident with my writing again so i can actually write something good

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“You can’t make up your mind, mind, mind, mind, mind!” You and Alanna screeched into the microphones on the team bus back from Marvel stadium.

“Make it stop!” Kyra screamed over the extremely loud music, covering her ears, causing other girls to laugh and yell in agreement

“Shawty is a eenie meenie miney mo lover!” You sung into Caitlin’s face in her seat, she recorded you as she laughed, you would later find that video on her insta story.

Alanna threw you over her shoulder as you walked back to your bus seats once you were both finished your karaoke song. Voices gone.

You and your national team had just won against Uzbekistan with a wicked 10-0 and were officially going to Paris. Something you had been losing sleep on for weeks.

“You have ruined Justin Bieber for me you two!” Mimi yelled over the rows

“Oh get over it!” You yelled back laughing

You had some of the sprite bottle that was in your backpack to cool down after the performance before Alanna laid on your shoulder from next to you. “Tell me I’m dreaming and we don’t have to get on a 3am flight”

You pinched her

“Ow don’t pinch me” she exclaimed as she rubbed the now red skin

“Dreaming?” You laughed “we are going to be awake the whole night before that it’s fine”

“I’m already tired” she said before muzzling herself back into your shoulder.

“You’re boring” you said already bored at her energy level, getting up out of your seat while the rest of the bus was still singing and going nuts in excitement.

When the bus reached the Hotel you all took the lift to your respected rooms. You all had roommates this camp, and you were with Caitlin as she would usually room with Sam.

When you reached your room you both plopped onto your bed's before you reached over to the phone next to you as Caitlin got up to use the bathroom.

“Room service?” You asked as she had left the room to shower, before she quickly popped around the corner again and pursed her lips at you grinning. Implying a cheeky ‘yes’.

You dialed in the number as the phone rang to the kitchen and greeeting the staff on the line. “Yes just two of your cheese burgers, two fries, one side salad, two chicken nugget meals please and your umm…chocolate Sundae as well as your strawberry one” you said, ordering a lot for you and the hungry brunette

Caitlin came into the bedroom once again, giggling at your requests on the phone.

“20 minutes is fine. Thank you!” Before hanging up the phone and putting it back on the bedside table.

“I’m not gonna have any room for my airplane food!” Caitlin said

“I don’t understand how you like that stuff”

“Airplane food is great” she shrugged

You both had 1 hour before you had to leave for the airport. It wasn’t long at all, considering you both had stuff scattered around the apartment. Caitlin’s face cringed in confusion at your choices but left it before she got on the phone with her girlfriend and your Arsenal Teammates Katie.

—————————

“No fucking about alright? Everyone is tired” Mackenzie warns you and Kyra as you are lined up for boarding, large carry ons in hand and an all too eager duo consisting of you and your best friend.

“Hm” Kyra shrugs at the tall brunette

“We won’t, I’m tired too you’ll be fine” you reassured Mackenzie

As you slowly made your way down the boarding bridge you yawned more than twice on your way you were sure. Greeting the flight attendants you and Kyra made it to your respected seats.

You had fallen asleep after an hour, which is what you were specifically not meant to do due to all of the London Aussies trying to align themselves back with European time. But you slept for five hours and now you were up. Bored as nothing else as basically the rest of the plane slept.

Peeking over the small separator of a wall between you and Kyra, you found her dead asleep. Mouth hung open like drool was about to drip out any moment. You sent a photo of the girl in her state to your Matilda’s group chat, attaching ‘I hope all you who didn’t have to leave at 3 are having fun🥰’.

Quickly deciding to get up and go to the bathroom, you found Mini waiting at the bathroom door for someone to come out so she could go. She found you walking down the aisle and smiled at you before opening her arms slowly to hug you.

You lazily accepted her arms and slumped into her embrace. “I fell asleep just before” you said leaning into her side, keeping your feet grounded as the plane slightly felt wobbly.

“Naughty” Mini chuckled

When the older woman came out of the bathroom, Mini offered for you to go first but you insisted she go. Then noticing a very tired toddler in her seat a few rows down from the bathroom as you waited, Harper yawned bringing her smaller arms up to stretch which made your heart melt. Her tired and slow eyes found yours as she smiled before opening her arms for a hug.

Even though you were quite a fair bit away for her, you made your way back down the aisle to sit next to her in her overly large seat. She crawled into your lap, resting her body there. You, Carefully stroking her arm and looking around the plane at some of the girls asleep, you had completely forgotten about needing to use the toilet before Mini came down the aisle once again.

———————————————

“And to all those returning home, welcome home” the captain said sweetly over the overhead speakers, Kyra rolling her eyes. You had slung your carry on over your shoulder and prepared to get straight out of your seat once Kyra had gotten her over-head carry on out.

“Hello London” you said once you finally made it to baggage claim and stopped to stand and stretch for a moment, before resting on your suitcase waiting for the other girls to grab their’s. Katie would be picking both you and Caitlin up and would drop you home. Teyah picking Kyra up.

“Oh my gosh can I please get a photo y/n!” You heard an excited voice behind you. Your tired expression immediately vanished as you turned around on your heel to meet with the voice.

A girl and a boy that looked about 10 years old stood there cutely with their phones out asking for a photo. “Me?” You asked smiling

“Yes! Only if that’s okay” the short boy said

“Of course” you smiled before putting your handbag on top of your suitcase so you could take the photo.

“We are Australian too! We are on holidays” the girl explained once you handed her phone back to her after you all took the photo

“Oh I thought I heard some Australian accents” you laughed “what do you think of London?”

“It’s very cold” the girl said

“Yeah” they both laughed

“Oh I agree. Bit different from Australia. What are your names?” You asked them

“I am Emma”

“And I’m Luke I play soccer like you!” The small boy said after his sister

“That’s awesome wow!” You said excitedly.

“Hey y/l/n, Katie’s here” Caitlin said from behind you. Not seeing the two young fans that you were talking to just yet.

“Caitlin Foord!” The little girl said excitedly before they both ran off to her. The small boy waving to you as he ran.

You looked a little to the left to find the Irish girl standing there smiling at the interaction, you walked towards her before she started to do the same to you when she noticed you. You hugged, a hug that felt long because it felt soothing to be in her arms like always. Every time Katie hugged someone, it was liked she always framed them in her arms perfectly.

“How you going tiny?” She asked looking down at you with that wide and comforting smile.

“Good”

“Good” Katie mimicked you

“Very tired but I’m happy” you shrugged before pulling her back in. Before feeling a slight tug at the hood of your jumper. Caitlin pulling you away from Katie, so she could greet her. You grabbed your suitcase quickly while they kissed and did whatever else you chose not to look at for too long.

“Let’s go” Katie said grabbing your suitcase off of you so she could hold it before you all walked to her car and out of the airport.

————————————————————————

“Vivvy I don’t need your help” you groaned as Viv came over to where you sat at the dining table, attempting to help you with your homework for the 10th time tonight.

“We aren’t starting this movie until it’s done and unless you want to be hated from us collectively I suggest you pick up that pen” Viv stated trying to keep her words firm and clear.

“Kyra I’ll have one” you pointed to Kyra who was at the fridge getting herself a coke. Completely ignoring Viv who attempted to help you hurry up.

“I give up we are starting the movie” Viv said before walking back to the living room where most of the girls were already.

It was a team bonding night with some of the girls who lived super close to you, Kyra and Alessia’s building. Everyone forced the idea on you that you would host. As no one else was bothered to host and cook for everyone.

You were quite a good cook as the 16 year old yourself. So you gave in, but had deadlines for your online school due tomorrow that you were nowhere near done. The girls found out about your deadlines and made sure you finished them.

“I’ll just ask for an extension” you shrugged getting up and heading to your kitchen to grab the coke off the island that Kyra left for you.

“You can’t just ask for an extension every time” Caitlin, your Australian teammate, said from her position leaning against your kitchen counter, digging her grimey fingers into the leftover salad on the counter.

“out” you flicked her fingers out from the bowl and pulled her arm with you into the living room. “Yeah well I don’t know my teachers so I don’t care” you shrugged before you both sat down on the couch. Caitlin having to take the floor, sitting in between her girlfriend’s legs, due to there being no more space left in the couch nor the beanbags.

“Excited to be 17 tiny?” Laura said from her position on the couch next to you

“Very” you smiled sweetly. It was your birthday in two days.

“That reminds me. Game day in two days, so we can’t watch this full movie” Kim said from the other end of your couch

“Oh come on” Leah groaned like a child to her club Captain

The movie had been playing for around 45 minutes now. When Kyra’s intrusive ideas quickly sprung up and she was sharing them with you. “If we snuck out no one would notice” she whispered

You quietly chuckled at the comment that came completely out of no where, before some of the girls turned to look at you, as the movie scene playing was definitely not that funny.

“Mate how are you gonna do that”

“Your gonna do it with me” Kyra said, you laughed quietly dropping your head and shaking it.

“Yeah and where the hell are we gonna go”

“We can literally just go to my apartment or the lobby. Just to see how long they notice, or how long it takes for them to finally find us” she said finally now leaning back into the couch to act casual, but waiting for your response. Instead you headed to the kitchen

“I’m grabbing water” you said as the rest of the girls eye’s stayed on the screen, Kyra’s following you before quickly getting up and following you when you motioned her to do so.

“I’m in, come on” you whispered before grabbing your key and heading for your front door, which was luckily behind the couch where the rest of your friends lay.

“Should we take our phones?” Kyra asked looking back before she shut the door behind her.

“Nah” you shrugged before Kyra finally shut it, very, very gently.

Bad idea.

————————————

Vic’s Pov

I got up to use the toilet, softly apologise to girls as I stepped over their legs that sprawled out over the carpet before I made my way to the bathroom. I knocked, remembering that Kyra had gone in not too long ago.

“Kyra?” I questioned softly after hearing not response, knocking again. “Kyraaa” I dragged out as I very very gently opened the door slightly to see if she was even in there. When my head finally poked through, I saw no one there. Walking in to double check, there was no one.

“Guys where is Kyra?” I yelled from the bathroom not too loudly. There was silence for a moment as none of the girls bothered to respond to me.

“Where’s y/n?” Katie yelled back, making me exit the bathroom and go out to see the rest of them. “Y/n” Katie slightly yelled across your small apartment. Going to check your bedroom and guest bedroom. “Did you say Kyra was gone too?” Katie asked me as she walked to the rooms, the movie now paused.

“Yeah she’s not in the bathroom like I thought she was” I said before following Katie, me laughing slightly once we checked both rooms only to find them not anywhere.

“Fuck me” Kim said under her breath, now getting up front the couch, Teyah also getting up along with Lia. Viv and Leah asleep on the couch.

Kim went to the kitchen to grab her phone so she could call y/n and Kyra. “Kim” Katie said motioning for her to look at herself, holding up both there phones as she walked out of the room. Signalling they left them.

“Why do they do this” Caitlin said as she went to your front door to look out into the hallway, before completely disappeared down it to look for both of you.

end of pov

———————

“You dumb kid why did you say no when I asked about taking phones?” Kyra groaned as you both sat up against the wall, the outside of your apartment building. You and Kyra had ventured down to the lobby, only to think that it was too obvious, so you walked outside into the dark and sat outside the building. Dangerous. Yep.

“Oi Don’t call me that. Why did you ask me then?” I rushed

“This is boring come on” Kyra said before getting up and reaching her arms out, offering for you to latch on so she could help you up. Kyra dragged you back through your libby and then out a door. Leading to the car park.

“It’s so scary down here no” you said standing in the emergency doorway that you had both snuck into. It was 11pm, pitch black, and Kyra was making her way over to the box trolleys. The trolleys that the residents used to take up large items.

“Push me” Kyra said sitting down in the middle of the trolley, putting her hands in her lap, and crossing her legs.

“No” you hummed

“Yes”

“No”

“Yes”

“Only if you push me after” you gave in. It sounded fun.

“Don’t push me into a car” Kyra laughed as you started to walk with the trolley “faster cmon”

After spinning the trolley around for no more than two minutes filled with laughter and Kyra screaming as the trolley headed for the cement wall. "Okay off, my turn please" you said tugging on Kyra's sleeve before you helped her out of the trolley. As you went to hop in, you both heard the squeaky but heavy door leading to the car park swing open from he other side of the lot. Thinking someone was here to kill you both, you shared a paranoid look before instantly moving behind the red car you were both near, you peaked through the car's back window to see if you could see the figures that had entered, you heard the voice of a female before your eyes landed on Katie, Kim and Teyah.

"Is it a man?" Kyra asked, not looking, her back against the car.

"what? oh, no, worse. Kim Little"

Kyra just looked up at you and smirked before pulling you away, further into the dark parking spaces filled with cars. "Oi!" a strong Irish accent was heard, you looked back as you and Kyra ran through the large car park, locking eyes with a stern Kim Little. "Get back here!" Katie yelled again, a slight goofiness in her voice.

Kyra pulled you behind a car as you noticed Teyah and Katie running up to follow you, you and Kyra ducking out again and running behind another car. "Stop" Teyah breathed out as she ran after you two again. You turned back around only to realise you were running straight towards your captain Kim.

"Ah shit" you chuckled as your jogging came to a stop "hey it was funny-"

"we didn't know where you were, everyone was looking for you two!" Kim exclaimed

"Why" you asked smiling and still breathing heavily, recovering form your chase. Hearing the squeals and laughs from afar, Katie and Teyah were still taking off towards Kyra as they basically played tiggy.

"cause we all care about you. And it worried me that you and Kyra just left"

"Kyra's 22!" you said throwing your arms up

"Is she" Kim said, motioning towards Teyah and Katie tackling Kyra into the cement ground while she broke out into a giggling fit. "besides you're 16!"

"and you're over reacting" you breathed out before grabbing your jumper off the ground near the door and making your way to the exit. Getting in the elevator by yourself, pressing the button with the number 16 on it, heading to your apartment again. Though the lift stopped at ground level, above the car park, someone also trying to get the lift up.

Once the elevator doors opened, a blonde girl with a messy bun and her head in her phone was walking in. Not seeing you yet. "Shit"

Leah looked up from her phone at you. "There you are" Leah said, hitting the back of your head before rubbing your hair aggressively.

"Ow" You groaned, rubbing your head.

"I was looking outside for you, where's Kyra?" Leah said as the lift dinged and you both walked up the hall.

"Kyra's with Kim, Katie and um Teyah" you said, now unlocking your apartment door.

"Where on earth did you go" Leah asked now

"first outside, then the car park" you grinned

"look who it is!" Viv said as you both walked in, from her spot on the couch next to Beth, Laura and Alessia.

"Where is the rest of yous'?" Beth asked you simply shrugged, not bothering to answer, before collapsing into Laura's lap on the couch.

"You're kinda sweaty" Laura said from above your head.

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

Your birthday happened to land on a Thursday, which was your day off. Which meant your birthday would be spent not in the gym, and relaxing, just how you preferred. You sat up in your own bed, in your own apartment face timing your whole family on your computer. Once that ended, you stayed in bed, smiling and your heart warming at the Instagram posts your friend's back in Australia had created for your day, and the one's from your teammates also.

After a slow 30 minutes, you finally left the comfort of your blankets and got into the shower to freshen up for the day. You would be meeting the 'London Aussies' for breakfast this morning. Which included you, Caitlin, Steph, Macca, Sam, Kyra and as of late, Mini and Charli. It meant a lot to you that they took the morning's out of their day off to spend it with you on your birthday. Something you weren't sure would've even been thought about when you nervously moved across the world.

Steph offered to pick you up. So after applying some light makeup to match your usually-bronzed Australian self, changing into a warm outfit consisting of Jeans and a crew neck, Steph had texted you that she was now out the front of your apartment complex.

A wide grin was plastered on both your faces as the glass door outside your lobby opened, Steph leaning against her car waiting for you, large bouquet of yellow flowers in her hand. "Happy birthday Dancing queen!" she exclaimed before engulfing you in a tight hug, slightly lifting your feet off the ground in the warm gesture, you giggled at the comment before she let go of you.

She handed the flowers to you, "for me?" you asked in awe of them as she smiled.

"Of course" Steph said warmly

"Thank you it means a lot to me" you said hugging her again.

"Okay let's go i'm starving" She said before skipping off to the other side of the car to drive. You chuckled as you got into the car

"Where are we even going" you asked on the road, curious as to where you and your Aussie teammates would be eating

"I forget what it is called but I have taken you here before, you loved it" Steph said. Moments later, the car pulled into the parking lot, you remembering the cafe now. You saw Kyra getting out of the car with Charli, from your window.

Meeting up with all your Australian teammates from all around London once again made you happy, almost was the highlight of your day. During the breakfast, you got photos together at the table, some of the girl's mentioning that they would post them on their stories later for Instagram. You spoke about the Olympics, Sam's recovery and wedding plan's, along with plan's of Steph's big day also.

"You're gonna love the present from me and Katie" Caitlin grinned, nudging your shoulder, You let out a quiet but excited squeal.

"What are your plan's for the rest of your day y/n?" Sam asked you before sipping her iced coffee.

"I have been invited over to Beth and Viv's place for dinner tonight. So just chilling at my place then I will head over for that" You said to the girls, them all nodding.

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

Your birthday breakfast was over and Steph had dropped you back home, after taking you to the super market. To buy you whatever Sweets or snacks you wanted for your own apartment. You heard a knock at your door so you walked over to it and peeped through the door. Only to be met with a man in a fluro green vest and black hoodie.

"Y/n y/n/n?" the man asked. You hesitated at first, the multiple worried chats from Leah pondering into your mind about not talking to people who just show up at your apartment. That was before you looked down at the large box with pink wrapping paper and yellow ribbon, the object softening your initial expression. You quickly nodded at the man, before singing on a line from the form he put in front of you.

"Thank you" You smiled before he headed off, leaving the pink box at your door. You went to pick it up, it was heavier than you expected, but you brought it inside and placed it on your dining room table. You unwrapped the gift and saw the card from Katie and Caitlin. Their sweet words about how they were proud of your journey and their love for you had you smiling to yourself. You had received multiple gifts, most of them at training yesterday though, they all made you extremely grateful for the teammates you could call home now. The gift from Katie and Caitlin was a light pink Smeg mixer for baking may not seem to exciting, but baking and cooking for the people closest to you was your love language at this point.

Your teammates had become used to you hosting dinners, with your cooking skills. Also getting used to and comfortable with you regularly bringing them baked treats you had made. Some of them like Katie, Leah and Kyra had become quite demanding that you visit them with treats now.

On the cardboard box the mixer, Katie had written largely in thick-red sharpie 'I expect a shit ton of cookies now', her writing taking up the whole left side of the box. You laughed to yourself at her antics before opening up the box and taking a look at your present.

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

You and Viv got out of her car, where she had parked it outside her and Beth's flat. You were here to spend your birthday dinner with them. "Ready?" Viv asked before she opened the door.

"Uh yeah why" you questioned. Quickly before the door swung open and lights were turned on

"Surprise!" yelled a group, you shooting your head up.

You were met with the beaming faces of your whole family. Including your parents, older siblings, grandparents and closest cousins. Your jaw hung low really fast in shock. Your Australian family was all her in front of you. "What are you-" you yelled in excitement before running into your mother's arms. You greeted your whole family eagerly before hugging Beth who watched you interact with a proud smile.

"who did this?" you asked looking up at her, Beth still holding you

"i may have organised it. But you can thank your siblings" she grinned at you before you hugged her tighter.

You spent the rest of the evening eating pizza and talking with your family. You ended up having to get takeaway as Viv bought the wrong meat from the butcher to make for dinner. Forever grateful for your biggest supporters in your life and your Arsenal and Aussie teammates.

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

Not my best fic at all so i apologise. And i'm so sorry it took so long. Uni is kicking me in my ass daily so it's hard to edit a such.

xxx

#woso #arsenal women #caitlin foord #leah williamson #matildas #woso community #katie mccabe #arsenal #auswnt #kyra cooney cross #matildas x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #kyra cooney cross x reader #arsenal women x reader #woso x reader #woso x teen reader

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friendlylocalwhumper · 1 month ago

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It’s a good day today. Major slept in so long that the sun rose high enough to stream in through the windows and warm his dark hair. The couch cushion is creased and pressing lines into his face, and it is so soft. Felt fine, felt safe, to doze off out here in the living room. He was just in a tank top and boxers when he fell asleep, kind of chilly, but… now he’s under a blanket. Smells like Simon. Major doesn’t mind it.

Simon’s messed up lately. Something’s up with him. Frowning, Major groans and buries his face deeper into the couch. His slow brain can’t make sense of what’s up with the guy. He’s a zombie walking around with no sleep at all. Even cried at the kitchen table. Bad dreams. About what, Major doesn’t know. What does a guy like Simon have to cry about in his sleep?

The curiosity has been driving Major to look around the house. When he wakes up and drags himself lazily toward the bathroom, he looks up at the pictures hanging in the frames all down the hall. The pointy tower from Paris. A field with flowers. A family holding hands walking on the beach.

Simon isn’t in any of the pictures. Major slows, squinting in confusion at the photo frame holding a picture of a woman blowing bubbles. There’s a sticker on the glass, and he can’t read the words, but it says $5 on it. Simon forgot to take the sticker off when he bought it.

But all the pictures are of people with perfect smiles, and landscapes, and skylines. And… that one over there, by Simon’s bedroom door, it still has the sticker on it, too.

Fucking creepy. Major pads the rest of the way to the bathroom and shoves his hands under the cold water, lifting them to dampen his face and wipe it off on a towel. He tries to ignore the toiletry baskets on the shelf and back of the toilet, with all matching soaps and washcloths and loofahs. Still in the arrangement they were bought in.

The house is fake somehow. And Simon, Simon is fake, somehow. He’s not messed up like a lot of the guys who’ve had Major before. He’s like… chill.

The tank slides up and off his arms, and Major presses rough fingers into the edges of his burn. It takes up the center of his chest, jagged and thick. It’s mostly healed. Still itchy. The shape of a clothes iron. When he thinks of the searing heat, the cooked meat smell, Major’s knees wobble. But he thinks of it anyway, glaring in the mirror, to remember what Simon’s face looked like. Simon was excited, curious, fascinated… and his eyes kept flicking up to Major’s face. He was concerned. Like something was possessing him to cause the pain, but the person in him was sorry for doing it in the first place.

It all doesn’t make sense. The fake-ass house would maybe have a purpose if Simon’s room was messy, if there were secrets shoved into his closet, but Major’s been in there. It’s pretty much the same as the rest of the house - clean, plain, comfortable enough.

Throughout the day Major tries to keep Simon within his sight or range of hearing. The guy mostly stays in one spot for long stretches of time - his bed, then the kitchen table, then the couch. Simon’s shoulders are slumped, his hair is trying to frizz out of its bun. The buzzed sides of his head are starting to get overgrown. He looks tired.

They sit together on the couch, now, and Major nurses a cup of soda in his hands. A skippable ad has been playing on the TV for two minutes and Simon still hasn’t clicked the button to get back to the video.

“...fine if I just… go chill in my room?” Major asks, fiddling with the waistband of his jeans. “Cool with you?”

“Hmm?” Simon blinks, tipping his head lazily across the back of the couch to look at him. “Mmh. Sure.”

Leaving him alone out here feels… wrong. Major doesn’t really want to just leave him to drift off, half-asleep, only to wake up with a gasp ten minutes later, alone in the dark with the TV droning on. But Simon hasn’t offered up conversation about how he feels, yet, and Major sure isn’t the type to kindly ask. So he fucks off, out of the living room, to go find something to do.

This is fucked. This is - this is fucked. Is this why Simon’s been so fucking nice? Was it all fake, all meant to make him settle down and fucking behave, or whatever?

His hands shake as he pulls all the creepy shit out of the box stuffed into the back of Simon’s bedroom closet. Leather cuffs with real metal links, not the cheap shit you can find in a store. A gag. A blindfold, but like… made of black leather, with swirly metal on the front. A muzzle with the same fancy design on it. And under the box, folded up flat, is a fucking dog crate.

Major’s chest heaves for air. The bindings hang from his fingers, creaking when he cinches fists closed over them. It was all a trick. It was - of course it was, why would a freak who’d buy a person just let him drink and game all day? Give him a bedroom, let him rest between sessions? Simon was going to surprise him with this, laugh at him for relaxing and settling in here. It all makes so much fucking sense.

Major’s been kept like that before. He’s always wanted a chance to do it back to someone. Make them feel what it’s like.

He’s never seen Simon’s eyes so fucking wide before. Major grins, a big lazy grin, standing over the guy.

“Thought you could do this to me?” Working up the nerve to curse, Major growls in satisfaction. “Could do this shit to me?” Frantic fingers knot into Simon’s hair, ripping it from its tie and letting it fall loose just to bunch it up in his fists and force eye contact. Simon doesn’t look all that present.

“I’m not a fucking dog,” Snaps Major, frenzied with renewed energy now that he has some power. Simon is on his hands and knees, ankles bound to each other and wrists linked the same. The muzzle is locked around his jaw, the fucking collar around his throat. Major couldn’t figure out how to erect the dog cage, so it lies in pieces on the floor. Simon keeps leaning away from it, trying to stay far from the thing. It makes Major’s blood rush with vindictive pride. He’s got the guy scared.

The fact that Simon hasn’t slept for days helped. Made it easier to catch him off guard. And there’s a funny look in Simon’s eyes like he thinks this is a nightmare. But it’s real, it’s so real and so fucking fair.

“Look alive, Cupcake,” Major laughs, nearly hysterical. Smacks Simon’s cheek and smirks at the muted flinch of those eyelashes fluttering. “See, you’re Cupcake now. Fucking freak. FUCK, I missed saying shit like that!”

The cursing, more than anything else, sends Simon cringing inward.

“Fucking bark for me.” Major waves his hands, dismissing the command from the air, ignoring the fact that the muzzle would’ve made obeying impossible anyway. “No - crawl, fucking - crawl around, in a circle.”

There’s a tiny, subtle shiver across Simon’s skin. Major watches, so glad to have the weight of a gun in his hands again that he holds it with one hand and adjusts his pants with the other.

Simon slowly, hesitantly starts to shuffle forward, elbows and knees scuffing across the carpet. His restraints don’t let him move far or fast at all. He stares down at the floor like he can’t see it at all.

The guy was so useless when this place was broken into, and he’s useless now. Major wonders how he was ever scared of the creep. Yeah, Simon’s a good shot, and he talks a good game, but look at him now. Finishing crawling around in a circle, and falling still, breathing soft and shallow.

“I saw the creepy ass pictures. On the walls. Looked at ‘em, for real. They’re all fake shit. There’s nothing in this house.” No memories, keepsakes, sentimental trophies, real decorations. It’s like Simon’s only existed for a handful of years. “Thought it was weird. Then I found this shit in your room, and… hey, are you goddamn listening?”

When the strap of his muzzle is hooked and yanked upward, Simon grunts as he’s forced to look up at Major once again. His eyes are wet, one of them leaking a pathetic tear.

“Guh,” Groans Major, disgusted. “Freak. So you just fucking try to buy me, keep me here, wait ‘til I’m relaxed, and then you were gonna pull this shit out? Make me sit, and beg, and shit?”

The gun cracks into the back of Simon’s head with a satisfying weight, and the man crumples, trying to lift his arms to protect himself.

“Yeah, no. You don’t get to be all gross and sorry-looking now, get cut free. You’re gonna pay for this shit. For all of it. Every fucking day I was stuck here, you’re gonna pay for.”

taglist: @morning-star-whump , @lthrboy, @apokolyps, @paperprinxe , @vampiresprite,

@wollemi-whump, @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees , @whumps-and-bumps , @defire, @notactuallyluska

#whumptober2024 #no.9 #frame me up on the wall just to keep me out of trouble #oc #fic #captivity #revenge #dehumanization #pet whump #muzzle #sleep deprivation #major #simon #mine #the cycle

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rosewaterandivy · 8 months ago

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Everyone But You - a Life as We Know It au

Ch. 2 - I've Got That Lefty Curse

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Summary: hey, you know what a funeral is decidedly not for? gettin' your dick wet. | OR eddie munson's no good, very bad lay. Pairing: e.m. x f!oc w.c.: 4.9K warnings: NSFW / MDNI, immersive second person narration w/ a name and background but no physical description mentioned, grief, character death, funeral, jason carver mention, badly repressed emotions, poor emotional regulation skills, bathroom antics inspired by the moves of Paris Geller and that one scene from Catch & Release tagging: @powderblueblood for coming up with Eddie's nickname for the rover 😘

The garage door trundles open as Eddie twirls the keys in a flourish. You squint behind your sunglasses, bringing your phone closer to avoid the sun’s glare as you triple-check the directions to CPS.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.” Eddie grouses as the car comes into view. It’s big, some kind of SUV, a Range Rover apparently, if his grumbling is to go by, one that is impeccably clean.

“What’s the problem?” You walk toward the car as it chirps to unlock, “Keys,” You point to his outstretched hand, “Driver,” You point to him and finally gesture to the car, “Vehicle.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Right, sure. Lemme drive this car that’s worth more than my life, that’ll go real swell!” He choruses in false cheer before his face falls, “Yeah, no. Think fast,” He lobs the keys toward you which you step to avoid, and the pair of you watch as they rattle to the floor.

“Well shit, Sherlock, y’know you’re supposed to catch things as they’re thrown at you.”

You roll your lips between your teeth and raise a brow, “I don’t drive.”

“Riiiight,” Eddie says, scooping down to collect the keys. “Of course you don’t, your majesty. Wouldn’t want to sully ourselves with something so pedestrian.” He yanks the driver’s side door open and hauls himself inside.

Settled in the passenger seat, you buckle your seatbelt and pair your phone to the bluetooth in the car. Eddie adjusts the seat and mirror before deciding on a Sirius station for the fifteen minute journey to downtown.

“For the record,” He says, pulling out onto the residential street, “I have a driver’s license, not a boating one. This thing is a goddamn behemoth.”

The car lurches forward as he navigates toward the stop sign at the end of the block, the seatbelt seizes against your chest, jerking you backward into the seat.

“Munson, sort your shit out! There’s going to be an actual baby whose well-being we’re responsible for in here, you know.”

He kisses his teeth and huffs in exasperation, “Sorryyy, I can’t figure out the damn clutch on the S.S. Fuck The Planet, princess. Jesus H. Christ.”

You make a mental note to have the insurance policy switched over and update the title on the cars as well. Swiping over to the notes app, you tap out a reminder and add a trip to the grocery store for good measure. The list is titled: HOW TO SURVIVE IN HAWKINS and has such gems as: whole foods - where?, research moving co.’s NYC, check out brownstone, contact attorney & set up will, utilities & electric??, and baby books!!!

While you prepped for the impending arrival of Zoë and a prolonged stay in the Midwest, Eddie prattled through the house like Jacob Marley’s ghost shuffling from one vacant room to the next. He’d sent something off to his agent and editor via email about pushing the deadline back for his current novel, and had thrown his duffle in one of the spare bedrooms upstairs, the one furthest from Chrissy and Jason’s room, naturally.

You’d settled in a room close to the nursery and across the way from Eddie. The guest bath was conveniently at the end of the hall just before the staircase. Neither of you bothered unpacking after Max left, just threw your bags upstairs and scrambled to the garage to pick up Zoë as soon as possible.

The ride smooths out, eventually, Eddie seeming to get a hang of the clutch or whatever it was, and soon enough you’re being escorted back to the caseworker’s office at CPS.

She instructs you to sign the form with your intention of temporary custody just until the court can set a date with the judge to award full custody. Until that time, a caseworker would be checking up on Zoë and your care of her, the findings of which would be presented to the judge at a later date.

“And if you’ll sign here as well, Mr. Munson.”

Eddie scribbles off his disaster of a signature just as Zoe is brought in.

“Oh,” You sigh, relieved as you rise from the chair. “There she is.” You adjust the strap of your tote on your shoulder and leave the room, gently taking her from a woman with a nod of thanks. Keeping your voice soft and low, you greet Zoë. “Hi, sweetheart. Hi sweet girl!”

It’s rare that Eddie ever hears you like this, voice pitched just so as not to hint at any sadness you may be grappling with currently. And Zoë, she looks so pink and cute— footsie pajamas decorated in little hearts.

“Oh, honey. It’s so good to see you.” You brush back her downy blonde hair just as she begins to fuss, blue eyes falling to Eddie, who is rendered speechless in the office. He sniffs to clear any welling tears and quietly thanks the caseworker before joining you in the waiting room.

“I know, I know,” You soothe, rocking her back and forth, watching as Eddie steps beside you.

Zoë continues her soft cries, not nearing meltdown territory yet, but rather expressing her confusion or discomfort. Eddie’s hand cards through her wisps of blonde hair as you turn and say, “Hey, look. Hey, look – it’s Uncle Eddie!” Which seems to placate her somewhat, as chubby arm reaches toward him.

Lifting her from your hip, you continue to narrate: “Wanna go see him? Good, he’s right here.” And place her squarely against his chest, his hands coming to grip her sides as she tucks herself against him, little fingers gripping the worn fabric of his shirt.

You watch as he holds his goddaughter, her soft cries falling away to nothing as she nuzzles into his neck. “Okay,” You breathe, “We should really get her home.”

The car seat, however, proves difficult. Eddie has grimaced and groused his way through various belt to lock combinations, determining all of them to be useless.

“Who designed this thing, a fuckin’ Space X engineer?”

Leaning against the car with Zoë, you decide fifteen minutes is more than enough time for Eddie to dick around with the car seat. “Shove over Elon, this is getting ridiculous.”

Seamlessly, you set Zoë in the car seat and buckle her in. “See?” You ask, a taunting lilt to your voice, “Was that so difficult?”

“Well, that’s because I eliminated all other possibilities, so obviously you—”

“Shut it, Munson. And drive.”

You’re nearly back to Loch Nora when a cop lights up behind the rover. “Really, today? C’mon man!” Eddie pulls off to the side of the road, going for his wallet before stopping short. “Oh, shit.”

“Oh shit? What do you mean oh shit?!” You whisper frantically, “This isn’t really on ‘oh shit’ type of moment, if you hadn’t noticed!”

“God, would you shut up for, like, two seconds so I can think?!”

“Please, let’s not pretend you think.”

An intentional elbow jabs into his ribs with enough force for him to hiss. He’s about to snarl something not fit for tiny ears back at you when two raps on the window shocks you both into silence.

Eddie reluctantly rolls down the window with a pained smile.

“Morning officer, what seems to be the problem?”

There’s a pause before a bellowing laugh. “Munson!? Well, of all the gin joints in all the world—”

Eddie’s face flushes pink, “Uh, right. Hi there, Hop.” He clears his throat, “How are… things.”

“Bout to ask you the same thing, kid.” He pockets his aviator glasses and leans against the door, propping one arm to rest on the roof. “D’you know you rolled through that light down on Main before turning onto Pinebow?”

“Uh, no. Sorry, must’ve been distracted.”

“I’ll say,” The officer peers into the car, gaze falling on you. “Morning ma’am. Mind getting me the registration from the glove box?”

“I, uh,” You supply, uselessly. Eddie leans over to do it himself before you can ask what a registration would even look like. Your eyes dart back to Zoë still sleeping soundly.

“I need to level with you Hop,” Eddie says, handing the paper over to him. “This is not my car, this is not my beautiful wife, and my license is expired.”

“It is!?” You ask, furious. How could he be so irresponsible? There is a child riding in the backseat! Before you can rip him a new asshole, the officer chuckles.

“Can’t say I’m surprised Ed. Shame about the wife bit though.” He reads the registration and passes it back to Eddie. “But considering the circumstances … I’ll let this one slide.”

“The circumstances?” You prompt, wondering how the hell a traffic cop would know about Chrissy and Jason’s accident.

“My condolences,” He says with a frown and furrowed brow, as if the very idea of their absence unsettles him. “It’s a small town, I’m sure everyone’ll know by day’s end.”

Hop puts his glasses back on and steps back from the vehicle. He nods to you with a small smile, before his eyes narrow on Eddie. “You need to get this taken care of, Munson.” Slapping the roof of the car, he turns on his heel and walks back to the cruiser, “See you Friday!”

Eddie waves him off and pulls back onto the road. Offering positively zero explanations as to why this man you’d never met before today would be showing up to the house later this week.

“Munson, why does that cop think he's coming by the house later?”

“Hmm, oh, Hop? He’s not just a cop, he’s the Sheriff.”

As if that made it any better.

“Do I want to know why you’re friendly with the boys in blue, er, khaki? Thought you were the commander and chief of ACAB.”

“That,” He says, punching the button to open the garage as the house comes back into view, “Is a story for another time. But for now, just chalk it up to the fact that Hawkins is a verrrry small town, princess.”

By Friday, your bags still remain unpacked by the door to the guest room. It would be so easy to call a car, book a flight and just leave, like it had never happened in the first place.

You’re pretty sure that’s what Munson is expecting you to do. He doesn’t trust you, nor you him. How can you? It’s not like you were ever friends. And it’s not like you’ve seen him in that way since—

A soft knock from the door has you turning to find him holding Zoë in the crook of his arm. She’s smiling and sleepy, fresh from her bath. One that had left you positively drenched, prompting a hasty retreat to find a change of clothes.

“They’re, uh, driving up now.” Eddie mumbles, and though he hasn’t said it, hasn’t complained one bit, you can see how exhausted he is. Essentially dead on your feet from your first night with Zoë.

She’d cried and wailed all night, or so it felt, and you were sure you’d wake up to a noise complaint or violation of the HOA’s quiet hours or some such shit. Eddie had volunteered to stay with her that night, elected to sleep on the couch in the nursery because he’s “slept on worse.”

He’s said it as if he didn’t already have dark circles under his eyes, as if they hadn’t been awake for over 24 hours, and you want to refute it, to say you can keep the baby monitor on you instead, but the look in Eddie’s eyes tells you this isn’t just about staying the night with Zoë.

It’s that he wants to make sure Chrissy’s daughter is safe, to protect her daughter in the way he wasn’t able to protect his best friend last night.

“Could you just sleep in—” You tilt your head toward Chrissy and Jason’s room, it’s closer to the nursery anyway. But you don’t get to finish your thought before he’s swept in to the room and settled Zoë in her crib for the night. The conversation effectively over.

“Right,” You say, peeling off the door frame to leave, “Forget I asked.”

But that was last night, and you’d be remiss to say that you’d made it much longer on your own. The room was far too quiet, the sheets too stiff, and you couldn’t find your sound machine to save your life.

It’s two o’clock when you stumble into the nursery, nearly tripping over Eddie’s prone leg because he’s too tall for the small couch, but he doesn’t wake. You make yourself comfortable on the plush white rug, the one Chrissy had sworn felt like a cloud and rest your head on the pillow you’d snuck in from the guest room.

Maybe it’s the white noise machine looped to Zoë’s crib, or maybe it’s the proximity of being close to her that brings a sense of calm that’s enough to lull you into sleep. And maybe, it’s the soft snores and snuffles that fall from the tangle of limbs precariously close to slipping off of the couch.

Regardless, you and Eddie had somewhat survived your first day as guardians. Had struggled through feedings and diaper changes, nap time, and seemingly endless loads of laundry. You’d read Chrissy’s parenting books and ordered more to be delivered tomorrow. Eddie had returned victorious from a Target run and you’d each set about slapping sticky notes and scribbling furiously on a huge tear away calendar— you’d even assigned colors: you were purple, Eddie was neon green, Zoë was pink, naturally.

Max, Eddie’s friend and the estate attorney, had apparently rallied the troops for a family dinner for that evening. You and Eddie were to do nothing, under strict instructions from someone named Nancy to relax and focus on Zoë. You could hear the front door opening as people made their way inside for dinner.

Gently, Eddie passes Zoë off to you and helps you wrap the sling around your torso. After watching several tutorials on YouTube, you felt confident that everyone would feel more comfortable this way. Plus, your arms were killing you— who knew carrying a baby around could be so tiring?

Once downstairs, introductions are made. Eddie names off everyone in attendance as they stare at you like a new exhibit at the MoMa, or maybe the zoo is more accurate. Immediately, you can see that you don’t belong. Everyone is dressed down casually in jeans and t-shirts, their shoes kicked off by the door.

Whereas you, on the other hand, announce your presence with the click-clack of your heels on the floorboards. Swan into rooms with impeccable posture and sport dresses never more than a season old, unless they’re archival vintage, of course. A bold lip and manicured nails, not a hair out of place.

To the assembled people of Hawkins, you sure cut the figure of a Stepford wife.

“Hi,” A voice pipes up from the man to your right, “I’m Ste—”

A metallic clang sounds out, muffling whatever he had to say. Quickly followed by an exasperated, “Oh, goddamit!”

You smile at him, “The pleasure is all mine. Dean, you said it was?”

“I, uh,” He stammers out, unable to land his gaze anywhere on your person.

“Right,” You say primly, hearing more cursing from the kitchen, “If you’ll excuse me.”

And, of course, the source of the cacophony is none other than Munson himself. He’s got the hood fan going on the stovetop, and there’s smoke pluming from the oven. Company has been here all of ten minutes and he’s already going to burn the house down.

You grab the sheet pan he’s using to dissipate the smoke from the alarms on the ceiling and narrowly avoid smacking him upside the head.

“I never took you for an arsonist, but hey, there’s a first time for everything.”

He coughs into his shoulder, his hand waving through the air uselessly. But before you can tell him to shove over and let you handle things, people stream into the kitchen. Eddie is shuffled from the stove by a kind woman named Joyce, only to be pulled away by an older man, his uncle Wayne, while Hopper takes over in the kitchen.

Windows are opened by Max and Lucas, allowing the smoke to dissipate. And eventually, Joyce offers to take Zoë and put her to bed after her dinner of mashed peas and carrots. Begrudgingly you let her, dropping a kiss to her downy blonde curls before she’s whisked away.

Dinner is nice as is the company, even if conversation is a bit stilted and awkward given the circumstances. You don’t say much and no one expects you to, but every so often Wayne will catch you gaze and offer a small smile. It’s easy to appreciate his silence, to see it as a comfort because god knows his nephew is normally anything but.

You’re on your second glass of wine for the evening, listening to Robin as she details the various hijinks of what she refers to as the Scoops Troop. But she keeps mentioning someone named Steve and you have half a mind to ask her who that could possibly be. Dean, for all his lack of being mentioned in these stories, laughs along good-naturedly.

It’s when you yawn for the second time in five minutes, that Eddie suggests: “Hey, you should go up and get some sleep.”

You scowl, confused and pleasantly buzzed but stand up all the same. “Fine, but no promises, Munson.”

It had been decided that you’d give the eulogy for the service today. Eddie sits with Zoë in his lap – she's dozing off and you’re thankful – and when Eddie stares up at you, you can feel your heart in your throat. Initially, it seemed that Eddie would deliver the eulogy, this was, after all, his hometown and this church was full of people he’d known most of his life.

But when he’d come to you two nights ago after Zoë had finally fallen asleep, shaking like a leaf with crescent hollows beneath his eyes that the moon would envy, and he’d said in a voice so broken and empty: “I just can’t do it. Please don’t make me.”

And so you didn’t.

Halfway through, while the crowd is chuckling sadly, politely, at your anecdotes about Chrissy and Jason. Things are going well until Zoë begins to hiccup and throws a tantrum. Ellie, Chrissy’s mom, scoops her up into her arms easily and carries her out of the church. Over her shoulder, Zoë’s arms stretch out toward the front of the church, her face crumpled as she cries for her mommy and daddy.

Me too baby girl, me too.

You force yourself to look back at Eddie, and his eyes meet yours. It's a moment of understanding that goes straight to your gut and steals the breath from your lungs; Chrissy wasn’t ever coming back.

The wake is held at the house, a tasteful catered affair courtesy of Jason’s parents. Everyone thought it best for Zoë to be in a familiar setting to try and stick to her routine. People mill about downstairs stopping every so often to shake your hand and offer their condolences, thoughts and prayers, or claim that their hearts are with you during this difficult time.

It’s all you can do not to scream as you hold Zoë like a life raft. So, instead of snapping something at someone’s handsy uncle who has had you cornered for the last five minutes or so, you talk to Chrissy in your head.

What were you thinking Chris? This wasn’t the plan at all, in fact, you’ve jumped the gun by about sixty-odd years y’know. If you care to recall, we said we’d outlive our husbands and buy a place on the Cape. Descend into spinsterhood in style, and then haunt the shit out of that property, as is our right.

Ellie checks in on you with a soft touch to the arm, ushering pervy uncle toward the hors d’oeuvres. Small miracles. You can feel the tears gathering on your lashes, and you know that your tolerance for these platitudes is quickly dwindling. You haven’t seen Eddie since he fed and changed Zoë an hour or so ago.

He’s been distant since that night, the one where you’d refused him and drawn your line in the sand.

Catching sight of Robin, you tell her that Zoë is going for her nap and she promises to make your excuses. She latches on to that guy she seems permanently attached to, (Dean, you wanna say?) and they begin to spread the word in an attempt to clear everyone out.

You take the stairs slowly, not wanting to shift the dozing girl in your arms too much, as you step onto the second floor landing. Turning into the nursery, you set her down on the changing table and rid her of her funeral dress.

No little girl should ever have one, much less be given the opportunity to wear it.

Back in her comfy pjs, you sit on the rocking chair and kick off your heels. Zoë nuzzles against your neck as you hum softly. Sooner than you’d anticipated, the rhythmic rocking to and fro has eased her into sleep. Rising as gently as you’re able, you lay her down in the crib, turn on her sound machine, and step out of the room with baby monitor in hand.

Downstairs, you can hear rumblings of conversation overridden by a male voice: “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!”

Chuckling, you duck into the guest bathroom before any of the hangers on can spot you as they take their leave. Back hitting the door, you allow yourself a moment or two to breathe. Surrounded by people all day on what has arguably been the worst day of your life to date. Smoothing down the skirt of your dress, you pull the shower curtain aside and step into the basin of the bathtub. Once settled, you draw the curtain closed again and let your head rest against the tile wall.

“Why did you leave me alone like this, Chrissy?” You say, voice ricocheting off the bathroom tiles. “You know I can’t handle anything without you.”

Not two minutes later, and someone comes barreling in. Huh, guess you never did lock that door.

Before you can alert them of your presence, a high-pitched giggle sounds out followed by the scuffling of feet. The door is shut, and the lock is thrown as the giggle turns into a high, breathy gasp. They sound closer now, if the wet sounds of tongues battling for dominance is anything to go by.

Rearing back, you sink into the corner of the tub and will it all to go away. The noxious, ringing laughter continues unabated only punctuated by the sounds of a belt buckle clinking against the sink, a zipper being pulled down.

If you were so inclined (which you are decidedly not), you could simply turn your head to the left and feast your eyes on the shadow sexual escapades of one—

“Oh, Eddie.”

For fuck’s sake! As if this day could get any worse.

But, oh wait, it does.

“Sock it to me!”

Biting the heel of your hand to quell the rising laughter, your eyes blow wide at her litany of ‘sock it to me’s’ – it’s as if that’s the only thing her poorly wired brain will allow her to say mid-coitus. Eddie’s laughter, understandable given the circumstances, devolves into an attempt to shush his conquest from what has got to be the most unimaginative dirty talk you’ve had the misfortune to be privy to.

When she finally reaches her peak (“Yeah! That’s so good!”), you’ve already mentally catalogued the ways in which you could have a) killed yourself in the interim, b) killed Eddie, and c) killed this poor woman, in all likelihood saving her from a life of mediocre sex at funerals.

“Thanks.”

Well, at least she’s polite.

“Uh, you’re welcome.”

Eddie sounds embarrassed, voice tight and you can imagine he’s doing that thing where he drums his fingers against his thigh, impatiently waiting for this all to be over. His lips are probably tucked between his teeth while she washes her hands, eyes anywhere but on her.

There’s the sound of the door being unlocked and the throw away line of “Call me,” and with that, she’s gone.

The sink runs again, Eddie muttering to himself under his breath, and for the briefest of seconds when you dramatically pull the shower curtain open, you could’ve sworn you saw something akin to regret (or was it disgust?) as he looked at himself in the mirror.

“Fuck!”

He jumps back, startled at your Houdini-esque appearance. All too calmly, you step out from the bathtub, gaze fixed on him all the while. You pluck the joint from his fingers and stow it in your pocket.

And you haven’t launched into him yet, so maybe this isn’t the verbal crucifixion that Eddie thinks it’ll be. There’s a curl to his lips that says he’s going to be a problem, that he’s going to make a joke out of this, as if he hadn’t buried his best friend earlier today and then gone and screwed a cater waiter in the bathroom of her house during the wake.

“Well, well, well, if it isn't my Lady Disdain,” He drawls, arms loosely crossed against his chest, “Are you yet living?”

It is only in deference to Zoë that you don’t go scorched earth on his ass right then and there. There’s a soft squawk from your other pocket where the baby monitor is as she likely rolls over in her sleep.

“I am only going to say this once, Munson, so you better get it through that abomination you call a skull.”

Briefly, someone attempts to enter the bathroom, the door nudging open only to be forcefully shut as you, in an impressive feat of balance, slam one Manolo Blahnik clad heel against the door and shove it closed.

“Occupied!”

You wait a beat or two, leg slotted against the door to be sure that whomever was on the opposite side did not attempt further entry.

If only your yoga instructor could see you now.

Releasing your hold on the door, you flip the lock and take measured steps back to Eddie who is now crowded back against the pedestal sink.

“Did ya have some fun? Get you rocks off? Add another notch to the bedpost?” You seethe, and he knows better than to interrupt when you’re like this. “What a fitting way to send off Chrissy, huh? By defiling her home because you lack something called self-restraint.”

“Hey, that’s not—”

“What, is that not accurate Munson? Because from where I was sitting, it sounded like you couldn’t wait bust your nut into the next woman who batted her lashes at you, who maybe, juuuust maybe,” You take one step closer, a mere breath away from him. “Suffers from an undiagnosed brain injury and lowers herself to slum it with the likes of you.”

“Tell me how you really feel, sweetheart,” He sneers, “All those years of therapy seem to be doin’ wonders for your self-esteem. Because you’re too high and mighty to count yourself one of the crowd, right?”

“You have no right—”

“I have no right? Are you kidding me? I'm not the one who shuts down at the first opportunity, who would rather run away than stay here and deal with this!"

"It's not like I’ve left! I'm here, aren't I?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know that?" He demands. "We are not just playing house here! And you can’t pretend that we’re not partners in this. If you’re so scared, why didn't you say anything?”

You storm toward the door, unlocking it as you turn the knob to leave. To get away from him and his pitying looks, his judgment.

"Because I don't need you!"

Eddie’s hand covers yours, “Maybe I need you!" He snaps, almost shouting. "Maybe I need you to work with me instead of against me. Maybe I need you to stop doubting yourself, because there's already so much to worry about and I can't help worrying about you. Maybe I need you to stop being so damn independent and self-absorbed. Maybe I need you to realize that you're not the only person here who lost a best friend."

The heartbreak on his face is so painfully clear that you can feel it in your chest; you can't believe you didn't noticed it before.

The door creaks open.

"Hey, are you guys – oh, sorry."

You turn from Eddie to see Robin on the stairs, hesitating. You clear your throat and blink away any tears, as you step through the door. "Can I help you?"

"I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You're not interrupting," You say, turning toward her and smoothing down your dress.

"Okaaaay." She looks doubtful. "Everyone’s cleared out, leftovers are in the fridge. I checked on Zo and she’s still zonked out."

You nod, “Thanks, for everything.”

“Happy to help.”

You wait until her footsteps fade away, and the front door shuts. Gritting your teeth, you watch as Eddie steps away from you and avoids making eye contact, your jaw clenched tightly enough to hurt.

There's something empty and aching at the base of your throat, and no matter how much you swallow, it won't go away.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fafic #eddie munson x oc #stranger things fanfic #modern!eddie #fic: eby

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sunnyss4 · 9 months ago

Text

PALM LAKEVIEW HOUSE by sunnysims

Welcome to Palm Lakeview House, a tranquil lakeside house nestled in the heart of Oasis Springs' Skyward Palms neighborhood. Originally envisioned for the Caliente sisters but suitable for any family. This charming abode features two spacious bedrooms, each boasting its own ensuite bathroom and private closet. The main attraction of this home is its sprawling patio, offering breathtaking views of the nearby lake and ample space for outdoor entertainment and gatherings. Palm Lakeview House provides a peaceful haven where every day feels like a vacation.

All about this build

Gallery Id | sunny4sims4_

$206,503

2 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms

both bedrooms with closet

patio (with lounge area), balcony, pantry and laundry room

lot size 30x20 in Oasis Springs

unfurnished

used bb.moveobjects on

CC list

Felixandre | Grove (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) - Chateau (part 2) (part 3) - Paris (part 1) - Berlin (part 1)

Harrie | Brutalist Bathroom - Brownstone Collection (part 2) - Kwatei Collection (part 1) - The Klean Collection (part 3)

Pierisim | Domaine du Clos (part 1) - Stefan Kitchen

Charly Pancakes | The Lighthouse Collection

Joyceisfox | Simple Live Collection Bathroom

Sundays | Flores Set (part 1)

Lorysims | 2022 Land Rover Range Rover

Max 20 | Poolside Lounge Pack

Ravasheen | Flood Saucer Light - Shut The Front Door Mailbox

NanaeveDesign | Lyne Small Garden Lamp

Notes

enable bb.moveobjects on before placing

please let me know if there's any issue with the build or downloads

floor plans on the download page

these images don't use any reshade/gshade, (only Sunblind lighting mod by Softerhaze)

Thanks a lot to the incredible CC Creators ♡ @felixandresims @harrie-cc @pierisim @charlypancakes @joyceisfox @sundays-sims @lorysims @maxsus @ravasheencc

Please don't claim this build as your own and feel free to tag me if you use!

Download Build (Free on Patreon)

𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 - patreon | simtok | simblr | simterest ☼

#mydownloads #sunnysims #sims 4 build #sims 4 #ts4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #thesims4cc #sims 4 download #sims 4 downlaods #ts4 build #the sims 4 interior #thesims4 build

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streets-in-paradise · 7 months ago

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Troy (2004) Preference: Their Types (Fem partner version)

Note: I'm doing separated versions because in a strongly gendered society like theirs, answers can be different depending if we are talking of fem or male partners.

Hector

-As a character, Hector keeps a heavy burden of tensions between his duties and his own wants.

-It's most likely he would try to keep his options restricted to nobility and royalty keeping an eye on the fact that he is expected to become the next king of Troy. Besides from a partner to love, he also has to search for a Queen in the woman meant to be with him.

-Of course, we are speaking here assuming on intentionality. He would always intend to fall for noblewomen, but there is also the posibility of him falling for a common girl or a servant. Only I particularly think Hector would abstain himself from following a forbbiden love.

-If he loves you, but you don't belong in his social circle, he would suffer in silence for prioritizing societal needs over his. That being said, you still get a tortured enamored prince looking at you from afar like you are the most precious, but unreachable thing.

-For as much as it's socially allowed to " have fun" with taken as lesser girls, Hector simply can't do that. The grey areas are not good enough for him, he doesn't seek clandestine relationships. You either become his wife or he suffers for the rest of his life.

-For so, in order to save himself the pain, is most likely he would try to keep his options restricted to what is allowed for him.

-Speaking of her personality, I think Hector would feel impressed with girls showing leadership skills. In modern days terms, the one taking the lead in a group project where no one is doing shit and saving it from disaster. In ancient times terms, the sister of the household saving her mother troubles. Pragmatical, realistic, with the ríght amount of sensitivity. A good listener, someone he can form a team with to face the issues the city brings him.

-In terms of looks, i think all I have to work with in a sort of " type" is curly haired brunettes, but because this is the default look of all the nobles in his territory. Otherwise, i think this man is pretty open in what comes to ranges of taste.

-Favorite body parts on her would be:

Hands: The very first part of her body he could show open affection for, kissing her knuckles in carefully crafted salutes of court romance.

Thighs - Legs: It's a part of her no one else gets to see. In public their form can only be guessed depending on the dress she wears, because hers would always have long skirts. Before they get together, Paris would surely tease him for catching him staring hoping to get a good image to aid his imagination. Once she is his wife and they are in the bedroom, she can expect trails of kisses going all the way up from her knees to her inner thighs (and deeper).

Paris

-He is the embodiment of what Backstreet Boys were saying in As Long As You Love Me.

-Doesn't give a fuck about backgrounds of any kind and when love strikes this tendency only gets stronger. Just say you love him back and he would go to the last concecuencies for you.

-In terms of personality, he would seek soft tempered girls. If she is not a dreamer yet, he would take the challenge of making her dream with him.

-Also, she has to have some source of societal non-comformity, because he himself is a rejector of traditional masculinity.

-Despite he may have tons of adventures with girls attracted to him, it's difficult for him to find actual love. Paris is a hard choice when it comes to marriage, given his ways are shamefull in a rigid patriarchal society.

-This has left him to believe that he is meant to be an eternal lover, but could never be a husband because women won't want a man like him as the one they are meant to marry.

-Reassure him, tell him that you are proud of loving him as who he is, and he will be forever yours.

-It is my personal headcanon that Paris loves girls who are smarter than him. ( Kinda backed up by movie canon, just look at how sensical Helen is compared to him.) He is often taken for a fool, so getting the attention of a bright person would make him feel very good.

-Paris is the golden boy of Aphrodite, so he is a worshipper of beauty. Often judged as shallow, yet I personally believe he is a "beauty is on the edge of the beholder" man simply because he is so romantic.

-Sure, he canonically fell for the prettiest woman in the world. Yet one has to ask: Do you think Queen Helen of Sparta would have fallen for a shallow jerk? In the movie at least, she was already married to a shallow jerk! Movie Helen was sick of her life BECAUSE of the shallow men arround her.

-For so, my precious boy movie Paris loves all kinds of beautifull girls.

-Favorite parts of his partner's body.

Eyes: First thing he noticed when he meet her and inmediately praised her for it in poetical sounding terms.

Chest - Neck: Judging by his one sexy scene on the film, i think he is a boobs man. ( The pure adoration in his face as he is looking at Helen get undressed oh-my-fucking-god.) Not subtle in his appreciation when she wears a cute necklace or shows a bit more of cleavage. In intimacy, from there is mind numbing neck caresses untill she would bless him with a sight of her naked chest.

Odysseus

-There is no subtle way to say this, but you have to be Penelope.

-If not her, at least share most of her core qualities.

-"gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss" women are his type.

-Just be Penelope, the man is so in love with her he was obsessed over decades with the thought of seeing her again. Even imagining an AU world were she isn't there, he would search for the woman resembling her the most.

Tags: @lovelybaka

#troy 2004 #troy #hector of troy #paris of troy #odysseus #eric bana #orlando bloom #sean bean #eric bana x reader #orlando bloom x reader #sean bean x reader

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ladylooch · 1 year ago

Note

a fic where the reader face rides nico?

A/N: Babe, say less.

Part of What My World Spins Around AU because I really needed some Nico fluff. Hope you don’t mind!

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content

I’m in the kitchen on a random Thursday night in the middle of the season. Nico is with Lucie in her room, feeding her a bottle while I load the remaining dishes from dinner into the dishwasher. I can hear my husband on the monitor, soothing Lucie’s distressed noises.

“Baby.” Nico sighs to her, exasperation beginning to lace his voice. He’s been trying to feed her for the last fifteen minutes but she’s fighting tooth and nail between eating and falling asleep. “Do you just want to sleep then?” Nico asks. I pop a detergent tab into the dishwasher, then press the start button. I move to watch as Nico sets her bottle on the dresser to his right, then pulls Lucie tight against his chest. His feet begin to sway the rocker a bit faster, rubbing at her back and placing his lips against her forehead. “I get it, Lu. I’d rather have mama’s boobs too.”

An amused smile pulls at my lips.

He looks so sexy being a dad to our daughter. Has since day one when he held her against his bare chest.

I begin to wipe down the kitchen counters, listening to Nico quietly whisper to our daughter. Most of the time, he relay hockey plays to her from his pervious games, but tonight is different. Nico will leave on his longest road trip of the year tomorrow afternoon and his girls are more than a little sad about it. It’s been awhile since he was gone for more than a few days at a time. This ten day trip will feel like a lifetime due to the number of miles and time zones between us.

A heavy sigh falls from my lips as I imagine our goodbye tomorrow.

“Oof. That was a big one.” Nico murmurs, coming behind me, guiding me into the front of his body.

“Yeah.”

“What’s up?”

“You know what’s up. You feel the same way I do about tomorrow.”

His fingers come around my waist, pressing into the faded stretch marks. He stokes across them, leaving thrilling waves rolling in my stomach. What used to be an insecurity, Nico has turned into foreplay.

“I already miss you. You know that, no?”

“I do.” I respond, turning the light off above the gas range.

“Can I help?”

“Yeah, if you could put the leftovers from dinner away that would be great.”

“Sure. I’ll switch the laundry too.” He murmurs, reaching into the cabinet to pull out a stemless wine glass. He grabs the bottle of Pinot Grigio from the fridge, pouring me a large glass. After he puts it in my hand, he turns my hips towards the hallway. “Now go to our room. I’ll be in soon.”

“I still need to wash the bottles that wouldn’t fit.”

“I will. Go. Do all the skincare.” He waves his hand at me, heading to the sink to begin filling it with hot water. I take a few steps out of the kitchen, then turn, leaning against the wall. I cross my arms over my chest, watching as the muscles of his back and arms work on cleaning our daughter’s bottles. This is when I love Nico the most- doing small things for our little family. “Baby, go.” He calls back to me after a few moments.

“How do you know I’m still here?” I ask, pushing off from the wall.

“I just do.” He still doesn’t turn, just keeps scrubbing bottle pieces.

I roll my eyes teasingly at the back of his head then make my way down to our bedroom. I do the full skincare like Nico suggests, taking the time to do a calming mask and smear all my creams and serums on. My skin is glowing and happy as I pull on one of Nico’s shirts for my pajamas in our large closet. I flip the light off, pausing in the doorway when I see Nico sitting on the end of our bed, staring at me.

“Hi?” I question, holding the trim in the doorway, looking at him with cautious eyes.

“Hi.”

“What’s up?” I ask as I walk towards him.

“Remember when we were on vacation in Paris?” He starts as I step between his wide-set thighs.

“Which time?”

“Media tour time.”

“Ah, yes.” My eyes widen a bit at him.

“What did you immediately think of?”

“Our hotel room.”

“Where we were doing what?”

“Nico.”

“Babe.” He smirks up at me, fingers brushing along the backs of my thighs. He grabs two large handfuls of my ass, squeezing. I fall forward and his lips press against my abdomen.

“When I sat on your face.”

“Yeah. I was thinking… we should do that tonight.” My eyes close as he removes one of his hands from my ass to lift his t-shirt on me. “Wanna taste you before I go on the road.” I was honestly exhausted before I came in here, but his touch and words are awakening a need in me. His fingers move up to the waistband of my panties, hooking through and nudging them off my hips. They pool on the floor at my feet. Nico encourages my right leg up, then my left until I’m straddling his lap.

I slowly lower my face to his, pressing our lips together in a soft kiss. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth. His hands go to my hips, rolling them into where he is hard against my inner thigh.

“Maybe I want that instead?” I whisper against his mouth.

“Maybe you’ll get it later.”

“If I’m good?” Nico smiles into our next kiss. Then he breaks it by laying on his back. I move to take my shirt off but he pauses my hands, shaking his head.

“No. I want that on you.” It’s a shirt I wore all the time when I started staying over early in our relationship. Back when we didn’t have a baby or a million responsibilities and we forgot the world in Nico’s apartment. Some things have changed, but how much we want each other really hasn’t. It just takes a little more planning these days, except tonight.

Tonight, it’s spontaneous combustion.

Nico guides my hips up his body until I’m over his face. He grins up at me as he moves the shirt to bunch around my hips. I grab a fistful of the fabric to keep it up. I admire the view of him. He looks so good down there- an NHL captain ready to feast on his last night in town. I think of the women who wait in his hotel lobbies across North America, hoping for a piece of him. His tongue comes out, connecting with my clit and I exhale in pure joy. They’ll never have him like this. He’ll never worship the ground they walk on like me. Because I gave him his whole world four months ago.

My confidence is high. I moan loudly, letting my head fall back, hair dancing down my back. It’s long enough that it brushes Nico’s hand on my right hip. He release it, giving the ends of my hair a gentle tug. His tongue swirls into a steady circle, putting the right kind of pressure to build.

“Mmm.” I hum appreciatively. I lick my lips, looking back down at him. His brown eyes are liquid goo. I rake my right hand through his locks, holding his scalp for balance as I gently roll my hips into his mouth. His cheeks tighten as he encloses his mouth over my clit and begins a light suction. Our eyes stay connected, making everything hotter. “I love you.” I moan as his tongue separates my folds again, swiping along my clit in the right way. “Damn, Neeks.”

His hands on my hips encourage them to roll along his face. I do so, moaning at the delectable pressure of it all. My muscles clench around the emptiness. A whine comes out of my lips as Nico notices then works two fingers into my entrance. I roll my hips again, fucking his fingers and his face. Nico groans encouragingly as I lean back, groping at his hard erection.

“Fuck baby. You’re so wet.” He tells me, then attaches his lips back onto my bundle. I rotate again and again, working myself to the ultimate release. I come loudly against Nico’s face, shuttering and shaking while wetness glides down his fingers, dripping onto his bare chest. Nico places open mouthed kisses on my folds, gently working me down from my high. Eventually, he releases my hips to let me sit on his chest. His fingers trail gently over my butt and up my spine to my mid-back then down again.

“That was better than Paris.” I admit with a satisfied smile on my face.

“Way better.” I put my hand in the bottom of my t-shirt, then wipe it across Nico’s mouth to take me off of him. We both laugh, then separately bite our lips.

“Wish you could come on the road with me. Have you this way after every game…” He trails off, fingerprints perusing the top of my thigh.

“Me too. Room service every night… Waking up to your face every morning.” I work my butt off his chest so I can lay next to him instead. He rolls onto his side, guiding our legs to tangle together. His lips come to mine, pressing feathery, tender kisses there until my eyes close and I sigh into his mouth. I reach down to his shorts to give his erection a squeeze.

“I’m good tonight.” He says. “Only about you.” These nights are rare, but I accept his choice, moving my hand to his hip instead. “I can’t imagine living without this.” He repeats what he has consistently told me since the early days of our relationship. “Every day it gets better with you, babe.”

I nod in agreement, pressing my cheek to his chest so we can settle into a bit more quiet. His fingers weave lines along my back, bunching up his shirt on me as he does. Nico is falling asleep quickly. His hand stops moving against my lower back as soft breaths fill the space above my head.

I stay up longer, listening to the slow thumping of his heartbeat knowing everything is perfect.

#nico hischier fic #nico hischier smut #nico hischier fan fiction #New Jersey devils #my writing #hockey writing #writing request #NHL smut

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arch-obsessed · 1 year ago

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Inside the Barbie Dreamhouse, a Fuchsia Fantasy Inspired by Palm Springs

Barbie’s Dreamhouse is no place for the bashful. “There are no walls and no doors,” says Greta Gerwig via email. “Dreamhouses assume that you never have anything you wish was private—there is no place to hide.” That layered domestic metaphor has proved rich fodder for the filmmaker, whose live-action homage to the iconic Mattel doll hits theaters July 21.

To translate this panopticon play world to the screen, Gerwig enlisted production designer Sarah Greenwood and set decorator Katie Spencer, the London-based team behind such period realms as Pride & Prejudice and Anna Karenina. The two took inspiration from Palm Springs midcentury modernism, including Richard Neutra’s 1946 Kaufmann House and other icons photographed by Slim Aarons. “Everything about that era was spot-on,” says Greenwood, who strove “to make Barbie real through this unreal world.”

Neither she nor Spencer had ever owned a Barbie before, so they ordered a Dreamhouse off Amazon to study. “The scale was quite strange,” recalls Spencer, explaining how they adjusted its rooms’ quirky proportions to 23 percent smaller than human size for the set. Says Gerwig: “The ceiling is actually quite close to one’s head, and it only takes a few paces to cross the room. It has the odd effect of making the actors seem big in the space but small overall.”

Erected at the Warner Bros. Studios lot outside London, Barbie’s cinematic home reinterprets Neutra’s work as a three-story fuchsia fantasy, with a slide that coils into a kidney-shaped pool. “I wanted to capture what was so ridiculously fun about the Dreamhouses,” says Gerwig, alluding to past incarnations like the bohemian 1970s model (outfitted with trompe l’oeil Tiffany lamps) and the 2000 Queen Anne Victorian manse, complete with Philippe Starck lounge chairs. “Why walk down stairs when you can slide into your pool? Why trudge up stairs when you take an elevator that matches your dress?” Her own references ranged from Pee-wee’s Big Adventure to Wayne Thiebaud’s paintings of pies to Gene Kelly’s tiny painter’s garret in An American in Paris.

For Barbie’s bedroom, the team paired a clamshell headboard upholstered in velvet with a sequined coverlet. Her closet, meanwhile, reveals coordinated outfits in toy-box vitrines. “It’s very definitely a house for a single woman,” says Greenwood, noting that when the first Dreamhouse (a cardboard foldout) was sold in 1962 it was rare for a woman to own her own home. Adds Spencer: “She is the ultimate feminist icon.”

In Barbie, as in previous films like Little Women and Lady Bird, Gerwig set out to realize a whole world. “We were literally creating the alternate universe of Barbie Land,” says the director, who aimed for “authentic artificiality” at every opportunity. As a case in point, she cites the use of a hand-painted backdrop rather than CGI to capture the sky and the San Jacinto Mountains. “Everything needed to be tactile, because toys are, above all, things you touch.”

Everything also needed to be pink. “Maintaining the ‘kid-ness’ was paramount,” Gerwig says. “I wanted the pinks to be very bright, and everything to be almost too much.” In other words, she continues, she didn’t want to “forget what made me love Barbie when I was a little girl.” Construction, Greenwood notes, caused an international run on the fluorescent shade of Rosco paint. “The world,” she laughs, “ran out of pink.”

#obsessed is an understatement #barbie #movie sets #set design #barbie 2023 #greta gerwig #architecture #interior design #interiors

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stargazing-sapphire2 · 1 month ago

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Tears of Gold

Summary: Beth reflects on the difficult relationship with her father, starting from where it all went wrong.

TRIGGER WARNING(s): Emotional abuse/manipulation and gaslighting, childhood trauma, implied/referenced alcoholism, and parentification of a child

a/n: I would highly suggest listening to labour by paris paloma while reading this...just to get into the feels of it all.

TAGLIST: @gunnrblze @maymaylyn @thatonesillyducko @blacktacmopsi @deeptrashwitch @piouswolf @milkteaarttime @imagoddamnonionmason @violetflavia

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

Grief is the price we pay for love.

Beth could recall her mother’s words, said to her when she was a child so long ago.

At the time, she had just began to understand the world around her. Her mother had wanted her and Eva to be innocent kids for a good while longer, but their father had other plans; he had wanted them to learn early that the world was cruel and dark place.

While his words certainly rang true, they were not something that a child should have to hear.

“They’re going to learn eventually,” Henry had said one night.

“They’re just children, Henry,” Helena responded, just as sternly.

Beth had quietly crept downstairs that night, trying to keep as silent as possible to not alert her parents to her presence. She had just snuck into the kitchen to get a glass of water, when she had paused in the doorway to listen to them.

“Maybe,” her father agreed. “But sheltering ‘em ain’t going to do any favors in the long run; I’m only ripping off the band-aid.”

“They’re children!” Her mother raised her voice, her tone angry. “Let them stay that way before you decide to throw them out there!”

“I only want what’s best for them!” He shouted back

“And you think this is the way to go about it?!” She hissed.

Their shouting had made Beth flinch, and she dropped the glass she was holding, causing to shatter in pieces on the floor. The sound caused her parents to cease their arguing and they turned, catching sight of their daughter standing in the entryway to the kitchen, crying quietly from the commotion.

Shock came over their faces, but her mother moved forward, immediately scooping her up in her arms. She shot her husband a scathing look, as she carried Beth back upstairs to her room, making sure to check briefly on Eva to see if she was still asleep.

She had always been a heavy sleeper; the world could explode and nothing would wake her up.

After tucking her back in, her mother pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, murmuring an apology before she swiftly left, closing the door behind her.

Beth could lay there, staring up at the ceiling. She heard hushed voices speaking as her parents seemed to continue their bickering, before it all went silent. She clutched her precious toy, an old and worn stuffed German Shepherd, close to her chest as a way to calm herself down.

She heard footsteps down the hall, and her bedroom door opened. Beth turned her head, glimpsing at her father’s tall figure. He moved closer, and she flinched.

The hard look on his face softened.

“Are you afraid, baby?” He asked, softly.

Beth could only nod.

The bed dipped as he sat down on it.

“Don’t worry, Lizzy,” he reassured her, reaching over to gently comb her fingers through her hair. It was something he always did to her and Eva whenever they were in distress, or to their mother whenever they held each other in intimate moments.

Beth let herself relax, leaning into her father’s touch.

“Everything’s going to be alright,” Henry continued.

Everything’s going to be alright

The first of many lies in her life.

~*~

Beth sighed, reaching up to rub at her eyes. Exhaustion crept at the edges of her mind, but she forced it back to keep herself up. A decade of physical and mental training to keep yourself going under difficult circumstances tends to have that effect.

She lifted herself up from her bunk, letting her feet carry her…to wherever she was going.

There was steam to blow off, after all.

She found herself in the training room minutes later. She took note of the vacancy in the room, a fact that which pleased her in the back of her mind.

Striding over to the punching back, she stood before it silently, before swinging a punch at it. A loud thud accompanied the hit, the bag swinging back and forth from the impact.

Clenching her fists, she hit it again, harder this time.

The crack of the gunshot made her flinch. She shakily gripped the pistol in her hands, palms slick with sweat as she struggled to steady.

“You’re holding it too tightly.”

Her father’s voice nearly caused her to jump out of her skin. She turned around, only for his larger hands to roughly grip her wrists and point the gun downwards.

“You wanna get someone killed?” Henry snapped at her. “Keep that gun pointed downrange and never aim it at anyone, loaded or not.”

In that moment, Beth had wished she aimed the gun at herself.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze to her feet. “I-“

“Look at me when you’re speaking, Elizabeth,” her father said sternly.

Ever since her mother’s passing, his personality had seemed to take a complete 180. He still had his shortcomings, but he remained a good father to her and Eva. But now, ever since they buried Helena, he would often get snappy at Beth over the most miniscule things; her room wasn’t tidy enough, there was an object on the living room floor, she forgot to do something…

The worst of it all was whenever he drank himself into a drunken stupor, to the point where he was incoherent and could not remember them or his own name, but thankfully he never got physically violent with them.

There times that Beth wished he was drunk off his ass; only because he was sober right now and acting this way to her.

“I-I’m just…” She stuttered out, nearly wilting under her father’s burning gaze. ‘I’m just scared, Dad.”

Henry’s brows furrowed, and he pulled his hands away from her. A heavy sigh escaped her father, and she anxiously watched him pinch the bridge of his nose; a gesture he did whenever he was frustrated.

“Well, that’s too bad,” he said bluntly, turning back to look at her. “Because the only way you’re ever going to protect yourself is with that gun in your hand.”

Beth’s fist struck the bag again, this time with double the force.

You were my father.

Another strike, the anger boiling behind it.

You were supposed to protect me.

A breath escaped her, and she swung, this time with both fists.

“You’re being suspended for a week.”

Beth glanced up, arms tightly folded to her chest as she met her father’s gaze. Eva stood behind him, glancing nervously at her; she had been silent the entire time since they had gotten home, not intent on wanting to get herself into her sister’s predicament

Of course she did not; after all, why would their dad be so abrasive to who was clearly his favorite?

“So?” She huffed.

Henry narrowed his eyes.

“You broke that boy’s collarbone,” he rumbled. “You’re lucky his family chose not to press assault charges.”

Beth’s arms fell to her sides, hands clenching into fists.

“You weren’t there!” She exclaimed, anger starting to steam up inside her. “He was asking for it!”

“Raise your voice at me again and watch what happens,” her father warned, immediately standing up to tower over his daughter.

Her bravado vanished, and she shrank back into her seat.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, gaze dropping to the floor.

She flinched as Henry roughly grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him as he did so.

“I’m sorry, what?” He growled, gripping her chin. “And look at me when I’m talking to you, Elizabeth.”

Beth felt tears burn in her eyes.

“I’m sorry…sir.”

“That’s better.”

He released her, shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter what happened,” he continued. “You should have known better.”

Why did he always have to critique everything she did?

Tears blurred her vision as Beth struggled to not let fall.

She harshly struck the punching bag, channeling all of her pent up anger and hurt into those hits. Part of her imagined his face, but Beth knew she would never have the courage to truly stand up to her father like this.

That was the kind of control he held over her, after all.

She did not want to enlist.

Barely eighteen, and already her world was turned upside down. The ODIN strikes took everything, from their house, to their pets and belongings.

Everything was gone, and part of Beth wished it had taken her as well.

She had begged and pleaded to not make her sign on to the army, but Henry remained steadfast, unfazed to his daughter’s pleas.

“It’s the only way,” he responded, cutting her off halfway. “Take a look around, Elizabeth. There is no chance for you to have a shot at a normal life.”

“But I don’t want to be a soldier!” Beth cried in frustration and sadness.

“It’s the only way for you to protect yourself,” Henry responded sternly. “I can’t be around all the time to hold your hand.”

“But Eva can choose, can’t she?” Beth growled. “You never forced her to do anything!”

At the accusation, he seemed to hesitate, and rage boiled in her at this.

“…I won’t be around forever, Elizabeth,” he continued. “You and Eva need to look after each other.”

“Eva can look after herself!” She screamed, standing up. She half expected him to react badly, but he just stood there, so Beth let all of her anger splurge out. “I’m tired of always babysitting her and her following me around!”

“Elizabeth-“

“Leave me alone!”

She had run off, leaving her father to watch after her retreating form and her words on his mind.

“FUCK!” A yell escaped her as she delivered a particularly harsh blow to the punching bag, causing the hooks that held it to the ceiling to snap and fall to the floor with a loud thud.

Heaving breaths tore out of her as she weakly let her arms fall down, knuckles bruised and sore as she stared at it.

A stray tear fell down her cheek.

Why? Why did he hate me so much?

“You done yet?”

She turned around, meeting the gaze of Merrick. The older man stood in the doorway, a frown on his face as he glanced between her and the fallen punching bag.

“How long have you been standing there?” She asked tiredly; she tried to sound snarky, but all the energy had been sucked out of her.

“Long enough to watch that little tantrum,” he said bluntly, leaning against the doorway and folding his arms, but she could see the flicker of concern in his eyes. “What’s got you all pissy like this?

Fuck off, I don’t need anyone feeling bad for me… She thought bitterly.

Beth glanced back over her shoulder, down at her bruised hands, and then back up. She chewed her lip, contemplating if she should spill her guts.

In the end, it would change nothing.

“…It’s nothing,” she said, finally looking up. “Don’t worry about it.”

#sapphire writes #oc lore #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #one shot #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #cod oc: beth ashford #cod oc: henry ashford

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junkiespromise · 2 years ago

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𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐩𝐠𝟏𝟎

pairing: pierre gasly x fem!reader

summary: All the love she ever knew was one that hurted and burned but at a Parisian coffe shop on a wednesday she realized that maybe that was not all that love had to offer.

warnings: some angst mentioned because of the subject of the song.

notes: hey! my first story for the eras masterlist is finally here, so sorry it took me so long, i had a bit of a writers block, hope you enjoy it, also remember that if you want to ask for anything the requests are still open <3

masterlist

Took a deep breath in the mirror

Her apartment felt lonely now that he was gone, she was so used to the always present sound of his voice or some football match none of them paid attention to that now, in the quiet of her bedroom she also felt lonely.

Y/N felt as if a part of him was still trapped with her in that apartment, his things were still there and his smell on the shirts lingered as if they had been worn only a few days ago. It was unhealthy, she knew, that to keep reminding herself of him and what they could've been was probably one of the most self-destructing things she could do, but her mind just couldn't do anything else but go to the back of her mind and bring out memories of them.

She had spent hours looking at their room, now only hers; the feeling of his hands on her body still lingered over her every day. But she knew she could not hold that lifestyle for much longer because people would start worrying and she hated when they asked about her life; she thought she could solve her problems on her own with no help needed from anyone.

He didn't like it when I wore high heels

But I do

But ironically she found herself accepting the proposal of her friend to have a date, a blind date with a guy she had never met before and whose only information she had was his name, Pierre. She didn't really have good luck with the french but Y/N reminded herself that she needed it, she needed to meet new people, hiding away from the dating world and encapsulating herself in the same routinary life couldn't happen anymore.

Lily had set them up for a coffee date. While Y/N ended the last touches of her makeup and looked at the clothes she could wear, she put as a background sound, which was always needed, the multiple five-minute long audio messages she had sent. Where she told her trivial things but just one thing truly stuck around; "Wear your favorite shoes, those heels you love, the black ones"

Y/N stared at herself in the mirror, she could only see her face and top as she bent down to check her makeup. Taking a deep breath in, she sat on the edge of her bed and slipped her black shoes on. And in the action, she remembered how he didn't like it when she wore high heels, and the hour-long arguments about what she liked and what he didn't like her to wear.

She shook her head slightly with the intention of blurring out those memories and got up from the wine-red sheets that decorated the twin-size bed and started pacing around the room, thinking about all the possible outcomes of the date and trying to find the courage to go.

. . . . . . .

The weather in Paris was not the best on those days, it rained too often for her and her hair's own good and even when she told herself that the cold days were not that bad, they were. The cobblestone streets were still humid from the midnight rain of the prior day, making her do an effort to get to the cafe without slipping on them. Her shoes click-clacked on the sidewalk's grey tiles and stopped when she reached the corner of it where a small coffee shop stood.

Y/N took a deep breath in and walked inside, the chime rang inside the small cafe, a few heads turning to look at her hastily before focusing once again on their prior actions. It wasn't too crowded, usual for a Wednesday afternoon. A warmness hugged her when she stepped in, the heating of the place suddenly replacing the before feeling of coldness.

Walked in expecting you'd be late

She was six or seven minutes late, used to her ex-boyfriend always arriving late to the dates he planned but reproaching her when she showed up a few minutes after the clock hit the hour they had agreed upon. She didn't know how she was supposed to know who the guy was, her friend didn't even give her a physical description of him.

Y/N approached the counter and quietly asked for a Latte and a Croissant. While she waited she looked around, paying attention to the people, imagining their lives, what they worked as if they had studied something and what, and then she moved on to the furniture, the trinkets that decorated empty parts of shelves and the antique tables covered by sheer white tablecloths.

"Order for Pierre" She heard who she assumed would also give her the order say, the name made her head turn, and right there was when she connected with probably the most beautiful pair of blue eyes she had ever seen. He was now looking back at her probably after feeling her stare.

But you got here early and you stand and wave

I walk to you

As she approached him, Y/N couldn't help but realize how handsome he was, Lily had told her that he was but she didn't imagine it. His blue eyes seemed to sparkle under the rays of sunshine that faintly reached his face also making his hair seem blonder.

"Hey, this is weird, I'm sorry I'm not the best at blind dates but, I'm Y/N, Lily's friend." She said and as the realization that she was the girl he had been waiting for settled in he warmly smiled, making Y/N's nervousness slightly dissipate.

"Ah, yes, bonjour Y/N. It's great to finally meet you, truly. You are even more gorgeous than I imagined" Her cheeks flushed as the words left his mouth, the man in front of her offered his hand to her to shake and she accepted gladly.

They both sat down at a corner table beside one of the windows. The conversation started rather awkwardly, as most first conversations on blind dates do but both of them easily connected, faster than she thought they would.

"So, how do you know Lily," He asked before taking a sip of his cup "She's the first person that I friend-shipped I guess, when I first got to Paris" Pierre nodded, noticing that she was going to keep talking, not wanting to interrupt her. "How do you know her?"

"Well, she's the girlfriend of a friend of mine and, by the way, she talked her tongue out about how amazing you were, that's how she convinced me to come" She laughed at his words, Lily could certainly be a lot sometimes "Yeah, she was like that with me too, I haven't dated in a while so when I told her I was coming she was more excited than me" He laughed at her words "Not like I wasn't excited to come you know she was just super happy I am excited yeah but-" Her rumbling was rapidly stopped by his voice that told her not to worry and he understood what she meant.

And you throw your head back laughing

Like a little kid

As they chatted Pierre couldn't help but notice the way Y/N's eyes sparkled each time she talked about her passions, making him want to know more about the girl, to explore every inch of her mind and soul, something he hadn't felt about anyone ever, especially not on a first date, and Y/N couldn't help but notice how he laughed at her jokes and didn't roll his eyes at them like he used to do each time she did or said something relatively funny.

We tell stories and you don't know why

I'm coming off a little shy

But I do

While the chat went on she found her heart skipping a beat when he laughed or touched her hand that was resting above the table and she began to feel a sense of hope in his words, Pierre's presence warmed her wounded heart, and found herself opening up to him in a way she hadn't with no one else, not even her stupid ex-boyfriend.

I think it's strange that you think I'm funny, 'cause

He never did

"Sometimes my mind wonders if I will ever find love again you know." She confessed, and their conversation had turned to a deeper tone now. "But also starting something from scratch is so hard"

"Trust me, I know the feeling ma belle" The nickname made her blush "But I'm certain that sometimes love comes knocking on your door so suddenly you don't even realize it"

I've been spending the last eight months

Thinking all love ever does

Is break and burn, and end

As the afternoon set in and those who had entered the cafe while they talked had left she realized she had never felt that way before about anyone on a first date, she couldn't help but feel drawn to him in a way.

Their conversation continued until the cafe started to close, obligating them to leave, but they couldn't end it there, and as if it was natural they left the cafe still talking and what was supposed to be a two-minute-long walk to her car turned into a walk around the city; they strolled through the cobbled streets laughing and chatting

And we walked down the block, to my car

And I almost brought him up

But you start to talk about the movies

That your family watches every single Christmas

Both of them ended up sitting alongside the Seine River watching the water flow past them. They enjoyed the comfortable quietness of the moment. Eventually, Y/N turned to him and said "I have to admit, I was nervous about this date, I haven't been to one for a while, but in all seriousness, I'm really glad I came."

Pierre felt a warmness in his chest as she pronounced those words. He knew he felt the same way she did but he couldn't find in his mind the right to express them verbally. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her lips, softly, to which she quickly responded in the same way.

As they pulled away from the several-second lasting kiss, Pierre whispered "We should go on a second date after this, right?" She giggled and nodded before kissing him again.

And I want to talk about that

And for the first time

What's past is past

They both now knew that their blind date had been something they would never regret and the start of an endless connection. And they were also endlessly grateful to Lily for setting them up, who by the way, would never shut up about how it was thanks to her that they had happened.

They found love in the most unexpected of places, and they knew they would cherish it for a long time.

But on a Wednesday in a cafe

I watched it begin again

taglist ;; @amayakingw @f1wh0r3 @misiafix @dan3avocado @thtbwltts @myaurorasandsadprose @qualitygiantshoepsychic @myescapefromthislife @light-23 @magical-imagination-kgp @leclercsbae @here-comes-the-moon @leclercs-posts

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #f1 x taylor swift #taylor swift x f1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula one fanfic #Spotify

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rayraygo1267 · 10 months ago

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A Gabenath Fanfiction: In The Arms Of A Hero

Note: Hi guys! So this fic is coming out super late! It was supposed to be released all the way back in the beginning of January but unfortunately my life got in the way. That being said it is out now and I hope it is still worth the read!

Rated: K+

Warnings: Minor Language

Word Count: 2,858

Summary: It is the night of New Year's eve and Nathalie is eager to spend it with the mysterious hero of Paris, Hesperia.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The pane of the window was hitched open just a crack.

Nathalie’s breath quickened, a shallow quiver in the air — an echo of the click of passing time ringing in her ears.

From out in the distance, a boisterous reverberating clash ricocheted like a firing gunshot set ablaze. Spears of multicolored flying diamonds flared across the night sky, showering the dusky clouds in a vibrant flourish. Cries of both laughter and awe filled from the crowded streets below.

Fireworks.

Nathalie’s knuckles turned a tattering frosty white as she clenched the ledge of the windowsill… anticipation weaving its way through her veins.

She took a step back, blowing out a slighted breath, her lips pressed together — time was running low.

Her hand went to her back pocket, a desperate need and reverent worry rivaling her patience.

Patience is a virtue, an all too familiar voice reminded her.

She moved her hand back, fisting it to her side, her phone remained in her pocket, feeling as though it weighed a ton.

A subtle pop rang out, quiet enough to be mistaken for the regular old creaks and rumbles of a running refrigerator or the humming of a heater — such things were common in an apartment such as this one, especially on a night like tonight when every little noise could blend in with all the commotion from miles away.

This was the night that sparked a new beginning, a night that erased everyone’s blots of tick marks, starting them anew — a chance for everyone to have a clean slate.

A fresh start.

A New Year.

A gloved hand grasped to the edge of the windowsill but in a centimeter of a sparse moment the silhouette of a man took formense in its place. In a swift motion the man came to stand before Nathalie as he slithered his way over the railing, his booted feet hitting the wooden floor with a soft thump.

Rather than cry out in fear or shock - like perhaps a normal person would if a random man lept into their room - Nathalie blew out a sigh of relief, the corners of her mouth fletching up into a smile.

“I almost thought you wouldn’t show,” Nathalie teased, deflecting with the taunting remark to shield the plume of worry that had been plaguing her from the inside out.

A soft breathy chuckle filled the space between her and the mysterious man,“I wouldn’t miss seeing you.”

Nathalie moved forward to close the window shutters, to obscure her cozy little sanctuary of a room from the outside world of prying eyes and scandalous whispers.

She switched on the light, which illuminated her bedroom into a golden shade and turned the outline of the man before her into an ethereal essence.

His silvery light hair crowned his face, though it was pushed back in a swivel to reveal his gentle cloudy-blue eyes and refined intricate features. From head to toe he was donned in a piercing dark violet coat of fabric that fluctuated against the bends and arcs of his frame.

Hesperia.

The protector of Paris, the valiant hero who fought against Shadybug and Claw Noir, the highest revolutionary against The Supreme.

Just thinking his name alone made Nathalie’s heart melt in awe and yet thrum forebodingly in a condensed shiver.

“Are you certain no one saw you?” Nathalie urged, her expression suddenly taking a serious undertone. She reached her hands out to rest them atop Hesperia’s shoulders, her brows knit together in palpable concern.

In the back of her mind she was almost positive that no one, not even nosy passers-by could've seen Hesperia hike up over her fence and behind the old maplewood tree that stood in front of her bedroom window. The inlook on her room was hardly visible due to her apartment being sectioned off — a tiny fraction in the rest of the configured complex.

Not to mention it was pitch black outside, though the vibrancy from the fireworks could’ve left Hesperia to be more evident in the crevices of the shadows…but even if he was spotted it would’ve only been for a mere moment, if that.

Still there was that slim chance…that diminutive possibility and that alone was enough to fill Nathalie with doubt.

If he had been seen — he would be captured — The Supreme would reign — and what Nathalie and him shared would be no more.

A tremble racked down Nathalie’s spine, causing a flush of goosebumps to trek down her body, encasing her skin.

Another powerful blast retched from outside, leaving majestic sparkles and pixels in the air, omitting the burning scent of humidified smoke. The growing throng of people rummaging from below let out a synchronized cheer and a warp of applause.

Hesperia nodded at Nathalie, “I’m sure,” he chuckled again, the corners of his eyes crinkling, “scouts honor,” he pledged, lifting his palm up, a lopsided grin curling up his lips. Nathalie rolled her eyes at his nonchalant behavior, a huff on her breath.

“Hesperia…” she scolded anxiously, tilting her head to the side. Her voice came out much more whiny and petulant than she would have liked, but her trepidation at the moment was too high for her to have regards for anything else.

She couldn’t help but pout when she spotted Hesperia biting down on the inside of his cheek to prevent another burst of laughter from leaving his lips, but after a long pause he sighed, the humorous glow leaving his eyes. Nathalie felt a twinge of guilt for causing the grave change in his demeanor.

“I’m sorry,” Nathalie murmured before Hesperia could get a word out. He stared down at her, his gaze as soft and gentle as the gleaming moonlight — the moonlight that was currently sliding across his angled cheekbones and the jut of his jaw. Nathalie swallowed, ducking her head against the pads of his chest, squeezing her eyes firmly shut. Her voice came out in a hushed chokeful whisper as she spoke up again.

“I just can’t help but worry about you.”

And yet despite her worries, Nathalie felt her shoulders ease as Hesperia twirled a stand of her hair around the curve of his index finger. He placed his thumb under the point of her chin, lifting her face up to his own.

“I know,” he murmured, “trust me.” Hesperia’s expression turned sullen but Nathalie couldn’t help notice that the familiar stubborn gleam of hope that seemed to always be ignited within him never dissipated.

“But I have to fight,” he pressed, his tone emulating determination, “I can’t just let Shadybug and Claw Noir run amuck all throughout Paris…I can’t just let The Supreme hold charge over society and the capabilities of the miraculous,” he sucked in a breath, “that isn’t fair — that isn’t just.”

A soft tsk escaped between Nathalie’s teeth, a faint hiss on her tongue, her mind going blank as she watched her lover bleat out his heart of gold. It was quite noble of him to put up a stand like this — to risk his life for the greater good of others, even though most people viewed him as just as much of a threat as Shadybug and Claw Noir despite the fact that that couldn't be further from the truth.

Even so, Nathalie couldn’t help but resent Hesperia’s commendable actions for she selfishly wanted him to not take any risks at all, the greater good of society be damned. Nathalie wasn’t a stupid woman, she’d done her research and she knew what went on out in the congested streets and marvelous land markings of Paris.

She’d seen, just from catching sparing glances at her tv, Hesperia being beaten down, nearly being torn to shreds and twisted up by Shadybug’s ridiculous yo-yo and almost disintegrated to dust by Claw Noir’s ferocious cataclysm.

Not to mention the fact that she wasn’t unheeding to the wounds and scars — permanent scars — that wavered down his arms and on the back of his neck, along with what she assumed was the rest of his body.

No matter how hard he tried to shield her from the reality of his life, it was a constant fog lingering over the grove of their relationship, one Nathalie never could escape from.

With all this forsaken knowledge pent up inside her, Nathalie felt her selfishness was justified.

Or perhaps it wasn’t but frankly…she didn’t care.

She leaned back, her eyes still locked with Hesperia’s.

“I know there has to be a fight, a resistance but I need to ask…” she paused, choosing her next words carefully. Hesperia waited, his lips parted as he breathed.

“Why do you have to be the one to fight?”

That swivel of selfishness was rearing its ugly head as the words fell from her lips but Hesperia didn’t even seem fazed, or rather he did, just not in the way she had anticipated.

His eyes grew soft like condensed honey, his hand moving up to rest on the side of her face in a gentle shell against her ear.

“Because I don’t want others to fall down the dark path that I once led…the path that The Supreme mentors…and I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if I let anyone else get swept up under their control.”

Hesperia bit his lip, his voice as soft as cotton as he spoke, the pads of his thumb caressing the skin under her eyes. A tender expression flew across his features and Nathalie didn’t even need to speak to know what he was about to say next.

“Like Shadybug and Claw Noir…” he sighed, “they’re just kids, dragged into this mess for who knows what reason and I…” he drew in a long poignant breath, “I want to help them…help them grow…help them change…before they go too far into which they can never return.”

Nathalie nodded again, more for her own benefit rather than his. This conversation was one they had over and over it seemed, this constant weight on their shoulders holding them down. She couldn’t deny that he had a point…those kids didn’t deserve to be brainwashed by the lies The Supreme were feeding them, let alone do their bidding.

Hesperia placed his lips to the tip of Nathalie’s nose for a brief, perfect moment, immediately pulling her from her thoughts of The Supreme and of Shadybug and Claw Noir — and the miraculous.

Nathalie’s eyes softened, her heart rate slowing.

“Listen,” Hesperia murmured, his voice rumbling against her skin, as his lips grazed her ear. “Let us not fret about any of this tonight. Tonight is a night meant for celebration and that’s what we should do. You and me…” his smile brightened against the shadows in the room, “relishing our first year as a couple.”

Nathalie felt the air leave her lungs, her jaw jutting out in a wallow of shock. A year? Has it truly been a year since the fateful day in which Hesperia and Nathalie crossed paths?

“Are you serious? It’s really been that long?” Nathalie asked, skeptical, her brow raised.

Hesperia laughed softly, his lips curling up into a rueful grin. “Really. Are you that surprised?” He leaned forward and poked her nose teasingly. Nathalie’s face crinkled, her cheeks grazing over with a flush.

“A year with a superhero huh?” She mused, smirking. She curled her hand around Hesperia’s cheek, her face inches from his own. She drew herself closer to him.

That familiar flush of warmth and gentle feverishness of sun-kissed skin did not greet her though as she had expected — rather, space — air. She opened her eyes.

“Nuh, uh, uh,” Hesperia wagged his pointer finger in her face, arching his head back,“no kisses until the clock strikes twelve.”

Nathalie’s jaw went slack and she felt her mouth downturn into the slump of a pout, her lips trembled due to the lack of kisses being placed upon them.

“What?” She bursted out exasperated as she crossed her arms, “you can’t be serious.”

Hesperia didn’t seem to share her bewildered sentiment, for he only threw his head back and laughed harder, almost manically at Nathalie’s expense. Nathalie was astonished to say the very least.

“Oh come on now, don’t be ridiculous—“ she started.

Hesperia’s pearly whites sparkled at her in a mischievous grin, cutting her off short.

“Ridiculous, you say?” His hand flew to his chest, feigning offense, “I like to think of myself as quite the cultural and traditional man.”

Nathalie rolled her eyes, “that may be true but regardless, I don’t see why we have to play into these silly traditions.” She grasped at his hand while she spoke, hoping that would emphasize her statement and convince Hesperia to drop all this nonsense.

Hesperia leaned closer to her, doing a twirling motion to maneuver his way into her arms. She accepted him, wrapping herself around his waist. He leaned into her, the plait of his hair tickling her skin. He prodded her cheek with his thumb, pressing it to the corner of her mouth.

Nathalie’s heart stuttered in her chest, seeming much louder compared to the shatter of firecrackers that some neighbor boys were sparking off next door.

“It’s not too long now…” Hesperia breathed, “just a few more minutes…”

A minute could be an eternity when the one thing you crave is so close and yet still so far from your reach…

Nathalie groaned but she didn’t protest, she just kept her gaze focused on the man in front of her.

The man who saved her life.

The man who saved countless lives.

The radiance of a swarm of colors that gleamed like rainbows danced across Hesperia’s features. Reds, purples, blues, all cascading across his face like paint.

Nathalie didn’t think she had ever seen anything quite so beautiful.

A minute remained

60…

“This year will bring change,” Hesperia whispered.

“I know,” Nathalie murmured back.

She knew he meant that in more ways than one.

59…58…57…

While keeping her hold in his embrace, Nathalie turned the window blinds allowing her and Hesperia to have a glimpse of the last few moments of this chaotic yet miraculous year.

49…48…47…

“I won’t let The Supreme reign this year,”

Nathalie nodded.

If she was going to believe in anyone it was going to be Hesperia.

39…38…37…

“I’ll stand with you…” Nathalie said with conviction.

She didn’t care if their lips weren’t touching, for she couldn’t imagine feeling any closer to him than to what she was feeling right now.

Hesperia beams but there is a sense of grieving hidden in his eyes.

“Even with the risks?”

36…35..34…

Nathalie doesn’t even hesitate.

“Yes. Even with the risks.”

She was in too deep now. She couldn’t turn back now. She wouldn’t turn back.

29…28…27…

It was all surreal.

A year of madness.

That neither Nathalie nor Hesperia would trade for anything.

10…

The cries of the countdown from the Parisians outside began.

9…

The heat of Hesperia’s gloved hand was like a fire all in its own against Nathalie’s burning skin.

“Nathalie…” Hesperia became glassy eyed.

8…

Both of their hands found one another’s faces and now it seemed they couldn’t be any closer. They could taste each other’s breath on their tongues.

7…

How the time had flown. It was nearly impossible to think that Nathalie could have been bewitched by the great fallen hero that was Hesperia.

And to think that he had fallen for her too.

6…

The fireworks from outside were mute. Everyone was waiting for the perfect moment, when the new year would finally be upon them.

5…

Nathalie’s eyes roamed Hesperia from head to toe. His miraculous, the brooch crowning his chest like a foreseen magnet that could be so easily removed — if she just timed it perfectly.

4…

But she couldn’t.

That wasn’t her place.

It did not matter how much the curiosity and fantasies of Hesperia’s secret identity plagued her mind.

She loved the man with the mask and she knew she loved the man behind it too.

3…

Perhaps this year she will find out the truth.

2…

Nathalie traced her thumb down Hesperia’s cheek. His blue eyes. His pink lips.

1…

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Nathalie felt her heart explode along with the fireworks and firecrackers and sparklers that all went off in a perpetual unison around them.

At last, their first kiss of the new year.

One full of tenderness and excitement and promise.

Hesperia broke away as the cheers died down but did not move an inch.

“Happy New Year my dearest Nathalie.” He panted, his eyes alight and misty.

Nathalie let out a joyful cry, one that surprised both her and Hesperia. Her lips found his once again.

“Happy New Year Hesperia.”

Hesperia giggled against her.

“I love you,” he declared between kisses.

“And I love you,” Nathalie affirmed back to him, her thumb resting on his bottom lip.

She kissed him again, all her worries about The Supreme and the man that lies beneath Hesperia’s mask washing away and withering into a forlorn dust.

The fireworks scorching off into the sky would never be able to overshadow the fireworks going off in their united hearts.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! And again I want to apologize for the delay on the release of this fic! Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it! And as always if you have any fic requests don't hesitate to let me know!

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ranchracoon · 9 months ago

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Ch. 3: No Return

The exhaustion from the past week couldn't compare to anything you had experienced. Muscles you didn't know existed ached, you couldn’t even wash your hair properly because of how badly your arms hurt. The skin on your knuckles was raq with dried blood in a few of the cracks. How a woman three times your age could do this for so long was beyond you. Today however is laundry day, which means a whole lot of washing by hand but also a lot of down time. The laundry has to be hung inside because the mist from the waterfall will keep them wet, but it takes longer which means you got to relax more.

While you do so, Angie made herself scarce and you dallied around on the main floor for something to do. There's a few book shelves that you rummaged through but none caught your fancy. You took another pass, and lowered your standards until you decided on one. The sun had begun to set when you finished your reading and made your way to the back room. It gets the most sunlight compared to the rest of the house.

It feels like a greenhouse, with the ceiling and walls made from glass with tile flooring. Tight ropes lined the room from wall to wall with clothing hung from each one. You grabbed the last article of clothing from the clothes line; a luxurious, red, suit jacket that was softer than any material you've ever felt. All the clothes were oddly slim, you would have thought that someone who stayed inside all the time would be the size of the duke but, these clothes looked like they could fit you easily. They must be a twig, an insanely tall twig, but a twig none-the-less. Must be something in the water that makes everyone so tall.

You folded each article of clothing and divided them by ownership which was exceptionally easy. Angie does her own laundry, and your clothes are thrift store fancy at best. Meanwhile the lord's belonged on the runway of Paris, or on a magazine cover. You dropped off the basket of clothes in front of the lord's bedroom then excused yourself for the evening.

Sundays were your day off according to Angie, apparently the lord is gone all day doing whatever lords do and would return in the evening for dinner. It was also the day you went grocery shopping for the week, and Angie was going to let you pick out ingredients. This was your chance, if you could make something actually edible for the lord, maybe he'll come out to thank you. Or at least expose Angie to something other than whatever concoction she did make.

The next morning while you dressed you couldn't help but think how this lord managed to move around the manor without you or Angie noticing. There must be secret tunnels or something that they traveled through, because there was no way they could move from the workshop to their bedroom without cutting through the kitchen. On Friday you served lunch to the workshop, spent the entire day in the kitchen cleaning then the bell for their bedroom rang. It was impossible. Unless you're more oblivious than you thought. You grumbled under your breath then stopped dead in your tracks and shook your head. Great. Now you were acting like that deranged woman.

You hurried downstairs and to the kitchen as fast as you could to avoid Angie, in the kitchen you didn't see anyone and grabbed a bowl of leftover mush. It tasted like vomit but it was all you had, for now. You hadn't been this excited for something as mundane as grocery shopping since, ever. You leaned against the counter and a sudden clang against it made you jump. Looking over you saw Angie who dropped a bag of lei next to you.

"Is that my pay?" You asked.

"No, it's to buy food." She snapped.

"So, when do I get paid for all this work?"

She cackled, "what do you need to be paid for? You have a room, and food. What more do you need? A vacation? Ha."

She had a point, where would you go if you did have money? Could go back home and couch surf, get a steady 12 hour job and work 5 days a week. Plus weekends. You decided to remain quiet and finished your meal. After you finished you washed your dishes, dried them, then put them away. Angie left you in the kitchen while you found a basket and blanket to hold the food, when she returned she was wrapping a shawl over her shoulders.

"I'll be going with you to the village to visit my girls. You'll be on your own so don't do anything stupid. Remember, you now represent Lord Beneviento which is nothing to snuff at. Anything you do is a reflection of them."

"Girls? You have daughters?" You asked surprised.

"No, they're Lady Dimitrescu's daughters but I visit them every Sunday so they're practically my girls too." She replied.

You nodded in acknowledgment as the two of you rode the elevator up then passed through the front doors. Angie hummed to herself the entire walk and you hugged yourself as the wind blew past you, it carried the crisp bite of fall with it. The thin jacket you wore wasn't enough to keep the cold out, you would need something thicker to survive the winter. Angie continued to hum until she crossed over the grave of Claudia. She stopped walking and humming, her stare moved to it for a moment. You watched her watch the gravesite until she relit the candle and covered it with a glass dome so it wouldn't blow out again.

"Angie?" You asked softly.

"Hm?" She answered.

"Who was Claudia?"

Angie stayed silent for a long time before she started to walk away from you, she sighed heavily and the wetness of tears appeared in her eyes.

"I suppose you should know. Claudia was the lord's mother. She died from a horrific disease, but she was the kindest woman you've ever met. Her husband though, the late Lord Beneviento was a dark man, the definition of evil. Rumor has it he's the reason the lord doesn't come out. I started working there very shortly after the mother's death. Poor dear must have just been a child then." She replied sadly.

You sighed softly as you thought about it, all this time they've been completely alone with no one but Angie as company. It made you think back to your mother, and whenever you were upset she would cook you something, but now you also understood not having that comfort. The rest of the journey was silent, with only the wind and the brush of the weeds as company. The village came into view and Angie wiped her tears away as she looked back at you.

"This is where I leave you. Be back at the manor by 6pm sharp for dinner."

"Yes ma'am."

You watched her waddle toward the village center where three, tall, gorgeous women waited for her. One brunette, one ginger, and one blond. They looked exactly the same aside from the hair color, and microscopic differences in their facial structure. They even wore the same black cloaks with black roses pinned on the upper left of their collarbone. If they looked like that, their mother must be a goddess on Earth.

Angie opened her arms wide as the three women swarmed her in hugs and giggles then walked with her out of sight. Not a single glance your way. A thought occurred in your head, a meal you used to love growing up and always made you feel better but there was one, little, issue: it required fish. That'll be the last thing you get. It didn't take long to acquire the rest of the ingredients: rice, ginger, cucumber, soy sauce, garlic, and other seasonings. All of it fresh and handmade or grown locally. However, now that you're finished that meant you had to do the inevitable.

You groaned under your breath and followed the signs that pointed to the bay, with your head on a swivel. Ironically you loved this meal but hated the smell of fish. You scrunched your nose as you got closer, merchants yelled for attention trying to sell their latest catch of fish, crabs, and other shellfish.

A woman caught your attention, she wore a simple brown gown with a red apron that used to be white. She had freshly caught and gutted salmon which was exactly what you needed. You approached her and asked for three filets, while you waited you glanced around the dock to watch the fishers pass you by. Just as the woman was about to wrap the fish in paper your skin prickled with goosebumps and you felt as though someone was watching you, you glanced around again to see if you could make them out.

"Y/N!"

No.... You thought.

Salvatore appeared from around the corner with that creepy grin that you were certain he thought was genuine. His hair was neater today, it was combed to one side and he had on a green button up with slick overalls that had the boots attached. He walked up to you and attempted to hug you but you quickly side stepped to avoid it. You didn't like to be touched in general, and definitely not by men. He pretended to look hurt but quickly changed it back to a smile.

"What brings you down here? Come to get some fish?" He asked excitedly.

"No, I came down here to see what fruits and vegetables I could find." You replied sarcastically.

He laughed louder than you would have liked, the woman motioned for you to take the fish; you took it and paid her the lei then wrapped the fish in the covering to keep it from leaking. You had hoped Salvatore would take that as his cue to leave, but he remained standing there. You strained your head to look behind him so any opening to escape.

"Well, since you're here, would you like to see my boat?" He offered.

"I can't, I'm afraid I need to get this fish on ice and be back at the manor before...2pm." You lied.

"Then, how about I accompany you?" He asked.

"I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to get distracted nor keep you from your duties. Have a good day." You replied as nicely as you could muster.

You tried to step around to walk away but he continued to walk next to you. He slipped his hands into his overall pockets, while strutting proudly.

"Nonsense, Sundays are my day off because my dad is gone all day in meetings with Mother Miranda."

You perked your head up. If his father was in the meeting, then he was with lord Beneviento. Maybe you could do some fishing of your own.

"Is that so? So your father is a lord too?" You asked curiously.

Salvatore smirked, "yeah. There are four lords around here that run the village like a city council. They make the judgment for any crimes, how to spend taxes, all that boring stuff." He sniffed and puffed out his chest, "I'll be taking over for my father when he steps down."

You refrained from rolling your eyes, "who are the other lords?"

"Well, there's my dad, Beneviento, Dimitrescu, and Heisenberg. Dimitrescu exports her family's wine and some other stuff I think. My father and I handle fishing and help out with the farming, while Heisenberg does all the carpentry and metal work for the village. I don't know what Beneviento does, no one has seen him so I think he just rides his father's legacy and that's why he remains a lord."

You stopped walking, "bold of you to talk about a lord like that. Especially one that I work for and you've never met." You snapped.

Salvatore raised his hands in defense. His toothy grin remained as he shook his head.

"I'm just saying."

You glared at him, "I think it's time we parted ways. I have to get back."

You started to walk away when he grabbed the arm that didn't have the basket attached to it. He swung you around to face him again. It took every muscle in your body not to smack him with the wrapped fish right then and there.

"Hey I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you mad. Let me make it up to you. The summer festival is this upcoming weekend, come with me. We can-"

You yanked your arm away and cut him off, "no. Now I need to get going. Angie is waiting for me."

As fast as your feet could carry you, you walked away from that man and back into the crowded village. After you deemed yourself far enough away you slowed your pace and relaxed a little, he really did give you the creeps. Just when you thought you wouldn't have to deal with unwanted attention here. The bell tower over the church rang four times. After you calmed you began to walk back to the manor when goosebumps crawled over your skin, that feeling of being watched returned. Maybe you should mention something to Angie; no, she'd just laugh at you and call you crazy.

Every step you would shoot a look over one shoulder. You couldn't shake the feeling of being prey stalked by a predator. Each time the grass or trees rustled you walked a little quicker until the manor came into view. You've never walked faster and slammed the door behind you.

Back in the safety of the manor you slumped the groceries on the counter and huffed, now that you were alone you started on dinner while cursing to yourself. Anger boiled underneath as your mind swam with the interaction with Salvator, he was just as bad as the men from where you came from. You trusted your gut, and your gut said he wasn't as nice as he came across. There was certainly something off about him.

Cooking relaxed your mind and you allowed yourself to fully dive into it. The salmon marinated in melted butter, soy sauce, and ginger while you sauteed mushrooms, bell pepper, and zucchini. The water boiled for rice and you added it in then turned down the heat and covered it to cook, just in time for you to cook the fish. While those are going, you thinly sliced the cucumber and pickled them with vinegar, lime, and salt.

Angie walked into the kitchen and eyed you, she sniffed the air curiously and hovered over your shoulder while you worked. She picked up an avocado from your cutting board and examined it like it was a foreign entity. After her examination she plopped it back down then rummaged through the rest of the groceries.

"Where did you get these things? I've never seen them in the village." She asked.

"The Duke. I asked if he had any and he did." You answered, "oh, and the leftover lei is on the counter."

Angie cocked her eyebrow at you, "are you feeling okay? You're not as sarcastic or groany as usual."

"Yeah just...how was your day with your girls?" You asked to change the subject.

Angie narrowed her eyes but shrugged it off, "good. Those girls sure are a handful but I love em dearly."

The two of you conversed in small talk while you finished dinner, Angie judged your cooking of course so you displayed it like a five star restaurant. Rice for the base, veggies next, then the salmon, with sliced avocado and ginger on top with the cucumber around the side. On cue the bell for the bedroom rang, you picked up the tray and carried it to the bedroom. You knelt down and knocked on the door then turned around back to the kitchen. You paused in the doorway and glanced over to see the door cracked open. It quickly shut before you could get a good look at whoever was behind it and sighed. Maybe it was rats eating the meals, but that wouldn't explain the dirty clothes, then again, the clothes you collected hardly looked dirty at all.

Maybe Angie was wrong, perhaps ghosts do eat and wear clothes to remind themselves of when they were living. The thought made you internally chuckle as you thought about ghosts trying to wear their human clothes and it goes right through. You and Angie ate in silence, when you were finished Angie offered to clean the dishes for once. It made you suspicious but decided to take the opportunity to go to bed early, a small coma sounded lovely about now. The refreshing water of the shower washed off the grossness of the day and having to be around people; the lord was onto something being a hermit. After you were clean and changed into some night clothes you crawled under the sheets of the bed and closed your eyes.

Sleep did not come to you though. You tossed and turned but your thoughts wouldn't settle. After much debate and staring at the ceiling for seemingly hours, you decided to walk around. You wandered around the top floor, glanced out the windows to watch the waterfall until the faintest noise came through that wasn't the white noise. It sounded like music. As you walked toward the elevator you could make out bits of it, you looked around and took the elevator down. If Angie caught you, you could say you were getting water, that's a reasonable excuse to be up at midnight.

You banged your hand on the side to open the doors, the music flowed through the corridors a bit clearer. You followed it until you stood down the hall from the workshop. The music was a piano, and it didn't have the static of a record which meant it was being played. As you approached closer you noticed the door was a ajar with a sliver of light beaming through. You tiptoed toward the door, the entire time you held your breath as if that would help you make any less noise. The music was somber but alluring, it couldn't be Angie which left one other suspect. You peeked through the door and your eyes widened at the sight of someone's back to you. They were dressed in all black with black hair tied into a bun. Their head was hung low and you couldn't make out anything else.

They played expertly, their fingers glided over the keys with ease and familiarity. As you leaned closer to try and get a better look you accidentally pushed the door which creaked open further. The person froze; you watched them stand and move out of sight then suddenly appear in front of you. Before you could look up at them the door slammed shut in front of your face. The sound of music was replaced with the hammering of your heart. You panted heavily as if you had just ran a marathon. The footsteps behind the door faded away, but then grew louder as they approached the door and you took off running to the safety of your room.

Once in your room you shut and locked the door then out of panic pushed the desk behind it. The lord was going to be so angry that you saw them, that you were snooping, and if they didn't, Angie certainly would. You paced around the room in panic, you should have ran for the front door. Instead you're trapped here, and you were going to have to face judgment.

#resident evil village #re8 #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #donna benevento x reader #re8 fanfiction #nsft wlw #wlw #wlw fanfic

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kirythestitchwitch · 9 months ago

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Klaroline WIP Wed - Freaky Friday Time Travel AU - Klaus is a Master Baiter

It's been a while since put some of this out but i've been working on my plot issues and writing so here is some FFTT! as always @galvanizedfriend your tag!

Part One here Part Two here Part Three here Part Four here Part Five here

Pulling down a pink jacket, she wondered as she slipped it on if she’d be breaking any time laws if she brought it home with her. Shoes on, she went in search of Klaus.

The bedroom opened on a hallway lined with paintings with two closed doors and a staircase at the end, which curved around down to the landing. A living room was through one doorway, a kitchen and dining room through another. Klaus’ voice, sharp in tone, came from behind a door to the left that was cracked a smidge, and she padded quietly to the door to listen.

She needn’t have bothered, first off, he was speaking a language she wasn’t familiar with, and secondly, the moment she got within range of the door, he called out to her. “Caroline, do come in, love.”

Only slightly annoyed, she pushed the door open. The room was some kind of study or office, with a desk in the middle of the room and a couch over by the window and a corner fireplace, currently lit and casting patterns of light on the built-ins filled with books and small trinkets. A tumbler of some amber liquid in one hand, Klaus gave her a small smile, a phone held to one ear. It sounded like he was speaking maybe Icelandic or oh! probably Old Norse. She caught Kol's name flung out with irritation before he switched to English.

“I aim to enjoy time with my wife after that mess with the ifrit in Tehran that you elected not to join us for.” Klaus gestured to her to make herself comfortable, and trying not to think about how many times her future self had probably fucked Klaus on it, she sat down on the couch. Really tried not to think about it.

Looking at the firelight playing across Klaus' body, the jumble of necklaces tumbling over the neck of his shirt, Caroline very privately had to guess it was a lot of times for the couch. 'Stop that,' she told herself, 'You're with Tyler, and none of this has happened yet. You could make it all not happen.'

Kol's voice, heard by Caroline only once or twice before this, came through the phone clear to her hearing. "I knew you had it in hand, Nik. What's one teeny little fire spirit to the Original Hybrid?" His tone was mocking of Klaus' self-aggrandized title, and Caroline had to admit she was starting to see a future where maybe they could be friends, she and this nutjob brother of Klaus'.

"I don't suppose any of the Bennett witch's books happened to mention they're eight feet tall? Hmm?“ Klaus' voice was the epitome of murderous intent; he calmly took a drink, the corner of his mouth curling mischievously into a dimple that spoke volumes about how much he was enjoying leading his brother on.

”Uh. Eight feet? Really, they uh. Made them seem kind of... tiny.” Kol finished lamely. “We're at the Greek house for the month, don't have all the grimoires, you see.”

“So you've mentioned. I'll be sure to inform Caroline of your incompetence, little brother.”

“Caroline?” Kol's voice turned a little sharp. “She's okay, right? Nothing... happened?”

“Caroline's fine.” Klaus' voice was terrible and final, and for once Caroline thought he was speaking from the heart, like he was saying she would be fine because he willed it so.

“Nik, now just—”

“Like I said.” Klaus did a good impression of gathering himself. “I'd like to indulge in my wife without the family making a nuisance of themselves. Stay out of Brazil for the next month if you know what's good for you.” He hung up the phone.

“We're going to Brazil?” Caroline asked. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. The part of her that desperately wanted to see the world was thrilled. The other part of her that was already freaking out from being in Paris didn't know if going to a second location was a good idea.

Klaus smiled. “No, we're going to the library. Kol is going to Brazil.” Beckoning with one hand, he pulled her to her feet. Pinching the edge of the fabric between two fingers, he gave her jacket a small tug. “Excellent choice, will blend you in nicely, and you look lovely.”

Caroline beamed at him, and he licked his lips, sighed almost regretfully, and then turned away, draining his glass and setting it on the desk. Tapping a touchscreen in the corner of it, the fire went out, and Klaus waved at her to follow him. Feeling a little off-kilter, she did.

#klaroline wip wed #klaroline #klaroline for ts #tvd for ts #listen #i cannot be held responsible for that title #it was RIGHT THERE #what was i supposed to DO?#not go there???#have you met me????

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writesick-lover · 1 year ago

Text

Please don't leave

D'Artagnan x fem!reader

⤞ My masterlist ⤝

A/N: Hiii, so yeah, this is basically my first post of a one-shot I wrote like a year ago but I am still proud of it to this day. At first it was written based on D'Artagnan from the movie The Three Musketeers but later on I realised that it works perfectly with the one from the series as well so you got both of them here haha. I also decided to leave this in a 3rd pov despite reader's involvement in this story. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know how you like it ;D

Warning: none it's just fluff

Summary: D'Artagnan and his wife wake up to another morning in their bed until they realise the daunting truth of what is to come.

♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️

Another cold morning had hit the residents of Paris. The early busy streets were haunted by a mysterious fog and the warm breaths of people talking with each other in hopes of buying something for what little they had. Amongst the civilians, a bunch of feathered hats moved around. The musketeers, the pride and joy of the King's army, were up early and ready to protect their country and their King. All of them but one.

She pulled her bedsheets up, trying to hide from the merciless cold that had crept into her usually warm bedroom. She could use the feeling of his body to fight the cold but found no strength to search for his touch as her place in the bed was partially warmed up by her. As if her thoughts called him, his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to his chest. It felt just like the usual morning they were to spend together. Except it wasn't.

The reality hit her like a wild horse and broke all of her dreams of a lovely morning into pieces. "Charles," she croaked. There was no response but she knew he was up, he was a light sleeper, his profession made him to be one. "Charles," she tried again. A sound returned to her voice and finally hit his ears as he snuggled closer to the crook of her neck.

"Oui, mon ange?" he mumbled against her skin, placing a small kiss. It was prickling like a needle as she slowly realized it might have been one of the last kisses she was to receive from him.

"You have to go," her voice shook and she gulped, to swallow the lump in her throat caused by the urge to cry.

He groaned, realizing the truth as well, but choosing to ignore it in favor of more cuddles. "No, we still have time."

She sighed as she glanced at the clock, "No, we don't, the musketeers will be here any minute." She started wiggling, trying to break free from his grip that only tightened, making her break a smile whilst she kept on trying. "I have to prepare you a bath. And get your clothes,"

"No, you don't, I can do it later," he muttered sleepily, pulling her as close as physically possible.

"I do, or you'll have to go through the embarrassment of being dragged out of the bed naked by one of your brothers in arms," she giggled, hitting his hand which had proven to be the right method to make him let go.

"Please don't leave," he begged, setting off a tear down her cheek. However, it quickly dried as she gasped when the freezing air hit her skin, biting into every inch of her naked body.

She quickly dressed herself, and he, unbeknownst to her, was watching her with adoration. All of her motions, the way she tied her hair into a ponytail with a black tie, creating a small bowtie at the top. How she quickly put on her underwear to fight of the spreading goosebumps on her skin, small almost inaudible gasps escaping her lips with each movement. The way she perfectly slipped into the black dress he gave her last winter, the one she wore every time he had to leave her. And after all those times, he learned to despise the dress, wishing he never had given it to her. Wishing she never had to put it on, on another of those mornings.

As she left the room, it was as if a symphony he didn't even realise was enveloping his entire world came to a halt. But then her voice rang across the house and he found himself fighting the cold outside their bed just to get to her. As he washed, she made sure everything was ready for him. She always did. She didn't even forget the small package of food for the way, no matter how many times he had told her that Porthos would bring something. And every time, he made sure to eat everything she packed for him instead of what Porthos had brought.

He was drying himself up when he noticed the unusual silence coming from his significant other. "Why so silent, amour?"

"Just a lot of thoughts," she shrugged, forcing a smile onto her lips, even though her eyes glistened with tears.

His posture softened under her teary gaze, but it didn't stop him from his usual habits. "You don't have to mourn, you know I will be back," he grinned arrogantly, letting out his boyish attitude to reduce her worries. But it was very like him to laugh in the face of Death and then escape, no matter how carelessly he threads the line between life and death. She smiled honestly this time, a small giggle escaping her lips and he wished he could trap it in a jar and take it with him. She opened her mouth to retort back but was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

"D'Artagnan, you better not be sleeping or I will break this door down and drag your ass out whether it's naked or not! Athos is already waiting for us on the academy grounds." Aramis' voice roared from the outside. Her eyebrow lifted, glancing at D'Artagnan who was half naked with a towel in his hands. "I suppose you are at the risk of a major embarrassment."

"I'm not if my love makes sure to hold them up for me," he smirked devilishly as she rolled her eyes, already heading for the door. "Sometimes I wish to not do as you say and witness the actual threat getting fulfilled, I think I'd find it more than hilarious," she yelled at him in the middle of her tracks, a mischievous smile, he could see in his mind, painting her lips. "You wouldn't do me that dirty, you love me too much for something like that," he managed to answer while frantically trying to put on his pants.

"Do I really?" she teased, grabbing the door knob and twisting it.

"Hello, gentlemen," she smiled brightly at the two musketeers in front of her. They bowed their heads while holding their hats in an elegant matter, both smiling at her, Aramis appearing to be more joyful than any other time. "My lady."

"Definitely not yours!" D'Artagnan's voice thundered from the other room.

"She will be if you don't come out ready this instant!" Aramis snapped back, throwing a bold wink at the lady of the house. She could only roll her eyes at the cheesy gesture as she leaned on the door frame, preventing the two men from entering any further. She smiled politely. "You will have to forgive me, but I oppose to that idea, unfortunately,"

Aramis grabbed her hand and placed his lips on top of it. "Oh, what a shame, my gorgeous lady," he sighed after holding it for longer than appropriate, only making her chuckle.

"Fortunately!" Charles yelled out again.

"Mon amour, I cannot hold them much longer. Aramis is gonna be all over me if you don't get here soon," a smirk on her face met Aramis' similair one in front of her as Charles D'Artagnan appeared from behind her, accompanied by a loud crash.

He puffed out his chest after his 'graceful' entrance. "Weren't you the one who taught me not to profane the lady?" he send daggers Aramis' way, towering over the two of his friends, "And here you are, dragging my wife into whatever is going on in that head of yours. I think this matter cannot be resolved any other way than a proper fight upon our return," her eyes widened upon the words of her husband as she noticed the challenging sparks in the musketeers' eyes.

"In no way are you fighting after your return. I will be more than thankful to have you come in one piece after those few weeks so don't you even think about getting yourself killed the very next day," she turned around to fix his shirt and coat that was visibly put on in a hurry. However, she did not fail to handle his clothes with rough tugs, a heat rising in his chest from the warning fire in her eyes. "And you better not let him do anything stupid, I know he will try anyways," she turned around again, eyeing the other musketeers who bowed again under the urging flames.

"At your service, my lady," they smirked in Charles' face and set off running when he gave chase and chased them all the way to the front yard and to where the horses were already prepared to set off. She followed them, walking to the front yard slowly with a soft laugh but quieted the second she saw them by the horses. D'Artagnan was still with his feet on the ground and waiting for her with a glint in his eyes. Oh, how she was going to miss his dark loving eyes only ever laid on her and the warmth of his body on all of those winter mornings. Oh, how he was going to miss the sweet, sweet smile of hers and the way her voice sounded between the walls of their house. How he was never looking forward to the deafening silence around him without her presence, despite Porthos' mouth never shutting up during the missions. It was a list of unspoken vows they never told to each other out loud but they could always feel it, the way the world stopped at that very moment.

And without any wait, when she was within his reach, he pulled her into a bittersweet kiss, sending thousands of painful but sweet needles down their lips as both of them knew this may be their last. It was long, full of longing and pain, but mesmerising enough to deafen Aramis' scoff in the back. "Please don't leave," she begged after their lips finally parted, her forehead resting on his. She begged again after he hopped on his horse and again right before they departed. "You know I will come back," he reassured her. And yet, she kept on begging in silence, hoping that he would keep true to his word again just as he did up until now.

♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️

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