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homiesexuallaj · 2 months ago

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"Finally"

Pairing: Eric Draven x reader

Genre/Warnings: a slow burn (im so sorry), friend to lovers, fluff, you're Sarah's babysitter, you finding out Eric lore, stray cat! Eric, robbery, a man tried to rob you, knife to the throat, cuts, blood, nurse! Eric, slight angst, murder, subtle flirting, confessing, slightly proofread

A/N: Requested by @lovergrrllllll !! And my request for Eric are still open so if you have an idea then feel free to drop it into my askbox!!

———

You’d been friends with Eric for a few years now. You both had tiptoed into the friendship, unsure of each other due to you being new to the city and not knowing anyone and Eric having trust issues. You two had initially met because you were Sarah’s new babysitter.

Due to Eric being previously dead, Sarah’s mom had lost her babysitter and needed a new one. With a few unwilling or unsuccessful people, you eventually found your way into their lives and took care of Sarah whenever her mom was working, which was whatever time her boss thought she needed to work.

Sarah always dragged you around town, bringing you to arcades or skateparks, music stores or libraries. It was the way you learned your way around the city and met new people, like Eric Draven.

Eric Draven was standoffish at first, so much so you couldn’t really figure out if he liked you. He liked to watch you and Sarah from afar, not really preferring to interact with Sarah’s new friend. But once he figured out that you meant no harm and actually cared for the girl, Eric started warming up.

It was almost like befriending a street cat. Don’t make any sudden movements and let the cat approach you on its own time, even if that means having a slightly awkward six foot sitting distance between you two. But oh well, as long as you two were getting along.

Most of time, you three hung out at at Sarah’s apartment, playing a bit of house with each other. Eric was with you and Sarah more often than not, which you never minded. You usually cooked for the three of you (and made enough for leftovers for a few days), but one day when Eric had beat you to Sarah’s house you found out Eric was quite a good cook and that’s when you two agreed to take turns.

A lot of your guys’ chores/babysitting duties started out that way, when either you or Eric found your certain niche, one of y’all either took over that task or took turns.

It was a domestic friendship between you and Eric, often acting as makeshift parents for Sarah.

Before long, you opened up your apartment as another hang out spot, especially when Sarah’s mom had some company over.

It was easy for Sarah to make herself at home and you often found her lounging on your couch and watching tv. Eric often squeezed himself into the corner and against the arm of your couch, he never looked comfortable. It definitely didn’t help when Sarah took up at least one and a half cushions on her own, which left you smushed between the child and poor, tense Eric.

Soon enough, you apartment became a second home for Sarah. She often came over after school and slept over when her mom was working a late shift. And you were happy to have the child in your apartment, it made it more lively and less quiet. Often, when you cleaned your apartment, you found things of Sarah’s scattered around. You could only shake your head.

It got to the point where you even cleared out a drawer on in your dresser for Sarah so she had a change of clothes or some pajamas. You even had a few personal blankets and pillows for Sarah on your couch and bed. Sarah often slept in your bed with you during sleepovers, which you never minded and was just happy with the company.

Slowly, Eric got comfortable in your apartment. Finally, he chose leave his shoes by the front door and hang up his jacket either over the arm of a couch or on the back of one of your dining room chairs. You were glad that the man finally made himself comfortable at your apartment, even enough to sit on your couch like a normal person and turn whatever he wanted to watch on your tv.

Eric often came over with or after Sarah showed up, taking care of a few Sarah duties if you were busy doing something else. Sometimes he even cooked you three dinner or brought by some takeout. But Eric never stayed too late and you thought he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. Which you appreciated but, in your opinion, you didn't think Eric was capable of overstaying. But you wanted Eric to be comfortable, letting him do as he pleased.

Throughout the years, Eric and you became closer. You two hung out more, either with Sarah or one-on-one. You learned about each others’s past (mostly), your hobbies, where you worked, and each other’s quirks. You also learned that Eric lived with this precinct’s police sergeant, and even met him a few times in passing. And as you two got closer, you noticed that a crow was often perched outside your windows or on the gutter of the building you worked at. You had no idea what that was about but enjoyed the company as you walked home and even bought the bird a bird feeder so it was fed.

Eventually, you learned the truth about Eric’s past. As everything had come to light, it had made dots click to together in your brain and made you realize how much Eric and Sarah beat around the bush when talking about the man’s past.

There was a night where you had to close for work and it was plenty past sunset. The orange street lights had lit the sidewalks up enough for you to find your way home, but not enough for the shadows to disappear. You weren’t too nervous about the circumstance, having done this a few times now.

But you found yourself backed against a corner when a man had leapt from one of the darker shadows. He tried to reach around to grab your wallet and keys, but you struggled and fought even as you were pushed the ground. You had only stilled when the strange man was above you, holding a sharp pocket knife to your jugular.

“This could’ve been easy,” The man hissed. “Just a few bucks and you would’ve gotten away with no harm done.”

He’d pressed the knife against your throat more and you felt the sting of your skin being pierced. You grabbed at his wrist, urging the man to stop his motions. You whimpered, not believing this is how you were going to go out.

Suddenly, the man was hoisted from you, but not without the tip of the pocket knife nicking just beside your jugular. You scrambled away, holding your hand up to your leaking wounds, thankfully it was just a trickle.

A second man had appeared, and if it weren’t for the streetlight he was standing under, you would’ve thought that the first man was being held up by a shadow by the back of his shirt.

The second man wore all black, but most of his figure was covered by a long, black trenchcoat. Most of his face was covered by black, wavy hair but a ghostly white face peaked its way through the strands. He held the first man up off the ground by the back of his shirt, practically choking the man out.

The first man, your assailant, managed to choke out an “oh shit” as he tried to kick and claw at the second man. On a whim, your assailant tried to stab at your savior, the second man, but he was merely slapped away.

The knife clanked to the ground, bouncing away in your direction.

“It’s not nice to go after women in the dark,” Your savior growled.

Your assailant could only sputter in response.

Your savior scoffed and dropped the struggling man to the ground. The first man tried to crawl away from the second, but the second man kicked him in the side. Your assailant cried out and curled into a messy ball, clutching his ribs.

“Oh no you don’t,” Your savior growled. “I can’t have you roaming the streets.”

You savior then fished another pocket knife that was clipped to your assailants pants. He flipped it open almost mockingly and held it up against the other man’s neck for a few seconds before speaking again.

“But I can repay the favor,” Your savior said almost too calmly.

He then pressed the blade long-ways into your assailants skin, ignoring the pleas and cries for mercy. As the blade broke skin, your assailant struggled and tried to push away the figure in black. Before he could put up too much of a fight, he drew the blade to the side in a quick motion.

You turned your head before the motion was finished and was left hearing struggling gurgles of breath. You heard something drop and a shuffling accompanying the sounds of gurgles. Then some footsteps coming in your direction. You looked up and backed away as your savior stepped towards you. You were scared of him now. He just killed a man in front of you, for you. How could you not be scared now? You were afraid that you might be next, or something worse.

“Hey, you’re okay,” The man in black tried to comfort you in a familiar voice. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Above all the shock and fear you were feeling, a flash of familiarity towards your savior lit up in your brain. You observed the stranger.

He had black wavy hair, dripping wet from the downpour of rain that had stopped only moments before you left from work. His cheekbones were prominent and you recognized the kindness swirling in his dark orbs. When you looked down, you could almost swear you recognized the large hands offering you safety up and away from the concrete sidewalk.

And then it clicked.

You did know this man. It was unmistakably your dear friend that helped you babysit Sarah. Eric Draven.

“Eric?” You questioned, still not taking your savior’s outstretched hand.

He seemed surprised that you recognized him in his vigilante makeup and clothes. With widened eyes, he nodded and was unable to speak.

You’d heard about Detroit’s vigilante, mostly through the morning news and your daily newspaper. With all the blurry photos, you could've never guessed it was your friend. It made sense now, why he never stayed late at your apartment with you and Sarah and why you really only saw him after noon.

After the shock subsided, you took Eric’s hand and let him hoist you up from the ground. His tall stature kept you shielded from his dirty work. You didn’t say anything for a few minutes, only staring up at him as you tried to assess your friend and decipher the emotions swirling in his eyes.

"You alright?" The shock seem to have had evaporated from his body in just a few moments, replaced with concern and something else you couldn't quite decipher.

"Umm.. Just a bit shaken up," You tell Eric.

Eric hummed, tilting his head a bit as he let go of one of your hands. You kept your head tilted up to look at Eric but watched his hand as it went for your throat. He gently removed your own hand from your throat, which was covered in blood you found out after taking a peak. You felt Eric use his fingers to prod around the small cuts, and you could feel as he wiped away the leaking blood.

"This one here," Eric muttered, poking at your jugular. "Is bleeding quite a bit, which is expected cause this is a sensitive area."

You whimpered and gripped Eric's wrist when he accidentally swiped his thumb across the deeper of the cuts. You looked up at his face again and caught a glance before the man looked back down at your neck.

"Sorry," Eric apologized softly, pulling his hand away. His fingers were covered in fresh blood, making them sticky. "Let's get you home so we can get you patched up."

Eric kept a hand on you the entire walk back to your apartment. You led the way and your friend kept a lookout, glancing around corners and keeping his eye on particularly dark shadows.

It wasn't long before you unlocked your apartment door and led the way in. You left Eric behind in your living room as he milled about, rummaging around a bit. You headed straight to your bathroom and fished the first aid kit from under your skin. You opened the plastic box and rummaged through the box to find your needed supplies. But it was hard to finger through the individual items with one hand, as your other was clasped against your neck to prevent yourself from making a mess.

"I can do that," A hand grabbed the box and slid it away from you.

Eric stood beside you, lacking his long trenchcoat. You could see the holes and and tears that were littered throughout the long-sleeved shirt, of which he had the sleeves pushed up just before his elbows. The shirt hugged his form, showing off his lean but muscular form. Eric didn’t wear too many skin tight clothes, so it was a sight seeing how broad his shoulders were and how narrow his waist was. You couldn’t help but stare as Eric got out his needed supplies, but you broke it when the man looked up at you.

He tore open a small package of singular use alcohol wet cloths and moved your hand away from your throat to wipe away at smeared blood and germs.

“So you’re The Crow,” you started, watching Eric’s face for a reaction.”

The wiping of blood stopped momentarily before resuming as normal.

Eric nodded, “Yes, but I figured you would’ve found out sooner.”

“Why?” You asked.

“Well I am the same Eric Draven from those years ago, and the same from Hangman’s Joke,” Eric explained. “Dead fiancé and all.”

“I’m sorry,” You apologized, not meaning to bring up a bad past.

“Don’t be,” Eric finished wiping. “I’ve grown and healed from it. Everyone moves on eventually.”

You nodded and watched as the man opened one of the packets for a large bandaid. He tore away the white paper that protected the adhesive edges of the bandaid and moved in to stick it to your neck. Eric was close as he smoothed down the edges. His fingers grazed against your neck as he looked down at you, observing your features.

You could feel your neck and face flush under his gaze. Your eyes flickered between Eric's frantically. He only gazed down at you calmly. He didn't seem to be looking for anything in particular, but you were panicky and trying to figure out what exactly Eric was looking for from you. But it was nothing. Eric was simply observing.

After a few moments of frantic heartbeats, Eric pulled away and straightened up to his full height. He turned and latched your little first aid box closed. He almost acted like he didn't send you into a panic over his unprompted staring.

You were both quiet as you cleaned up the bathroom and ventured out into your living room. You both hovered awkwardly, not sure what the next move either of you were going to make.

"Thank you," You said quietly, looking up at Eric.

Moreso here than in the bathroom, you realized just how tall your friend was. He was a good head or so taller than you. It made you nervous for some reason, and you couldn't explain the butterflies that fluttered around in your stomach. Nor the clamminess of your palms.

"You're welcome," Eric responded, just an octave louder than your own voice. "Stay safe at night, alright? Carry some pepper spray or something from now on."

"Alright. I can do that," You turned to grab and hand Eric his coat only to find it was already gone. "Eric-?"

When you turned, Eric was already gone. It was like he wasn't even there. There was no evidence of him really ever being there. You looked around, confused. How can someone just disappear into thin air like that?

A few days past before you saw Sarah again and you told her everything that happened. Like, everything.

Sarah firstly apologized for keeping a pretty big secret from you. She was just worried how you would react, and neither her nor Eric wanted to scare you away. You were just so nice and caring and Eric likes you a lot so they didn't want to scare you away. But then she listened very intently and begged from every detail on hearing that Eric stayed after to help clean you up a bit.

Of course, you answered every and any question the girl had. You could tell she was eating it all up.

At the moment, you were re-stocking some bookshelves at the quiet library you worked at. Sarah followed you around, quietly blabbing your ear off.

"I'm surprised Eric didn't like stay the night afterwards or something," Sarah wondered to herself outloud.

"Why do you say that?" You asked, glancing to the side at the child before resuming your task.

"Cause he really likes you, duh," Sarah said matter-of-factly, like her statement was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You keep saying that," You pointed out. "What do you mean he likes me?"

"Like it's not obvious!" Sarah responded. "C'mon! He walks you home and insists that he bandages you up and like stares at you for a really long time. Eric definitely likes you."

"Oh," Is the only way you can seem to respond.

"Oh," Sarah copied, mocking you.

It's like a whole new door opened before you and suddenly a lot of things made sense.

Moreso recently, Eric had really been spending one-on-one time with you. He'd been visiting your apartment more often, even when Sarah wasn't there. You two occasionally went on walks around your neighborhood and often stopped to get a treat before heading back home. If it was a bit chilly or a windy, Eric was offering you whatever jacket he was wearing that day. If you tried to deny, he would insist and would tell you not to worry about him. To Eric, it wasn't really that cold outside anyway. When Sarah was with you both at your apartment, Eric had almost always decided to sit beside you either at your small dining table or on the couch, and often rested an arm behind you on the couch. And over time, Eric had slowly tested the waters on prolonged physical contact, like a hand on your lower back while squeezing past you or when leading you away from something. There were also the instances of absentmindedly fixing your hair, a hand on your knee, or using the often rainy days as an excuse to squeeze you both under his coat before finding suitable shelter when Eric forgot an umbrella (which was often).

It was all that and more bouts of small things that really added up after Sarah's words.

You couldn't help the heat swelling into your cheeks and the sudden tightness of your chest. Your hands shook a little from a sudden surge of adrenaline as you pushed books back into their spots on the shelves. Sarah's continuous blabbing was drowned out by thoughts and realizations about Eric, about Eric and you.

That night, Sarah and Eric made themselves comfortable in your apartment.

Sarah's mom was working particularly late that night, so Sarah was able to spend the night. She sat on the couch and was watching some cartoon that she found on tv.

It was cold tonight, so you were in the kitchen cooking up a sort of chili. You were content and warm, slightly drowning out the background noise of your apartment. You almost didn't hear the thudding of boots that were walking in your direction. The only thing to completely pull you out of your head was the small touch to the middle of your back. You jumped slightly as the person spoke.

"Smells good," A low voice spoke.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Eric leaning over your shoulder, watching the bubbling liquid of chili. He was so close that a few stray pieces of hair tickled the side of your face.

"Well, it's almost done if you're hungry," You inform him, tapping the spoon you're stirring with against the rim of the pot before setting it aside.

You turn to face the man, who only backs up about half a step and drops his hand from your back. You can tell Eric's slouching just a bit, but he still easily towers over you. You watch as the man observes you and as he brings a hand to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. Heat rushes to your face at the action.

After a few moments of staring, you heard a thick bubble of chili pop behind you, which brought you out of your staring trance.

"Alright, mister," You swatted at Eric playfully. "Out of my kitchen while I finish up."

You urged the tall man back towards your living room and turned when Eric made his way to the couch and joined Sarah. You could hear Eric and Sarah conversing quietly behind you as you finished dinner.

Not before long, you officially finished dinner and everyone dished up. The three of you sat at your small dining room table in view of the tv. Between watching whatever was on, you three talked about what's happened since you last saw each other or stuff you've heard about around town.

After eating, you three migrated to the couch and eventually settled down, fully and happy. Sarah sat in her usual spot against one of the couch's arms and stretched out her legs onto your lap. Her head leaned propped up against a pillow that the kid had placed as a barrier between her head and the arm of the couch. Eric sat on the opposite side of the couch, lacking shoes and his usual jacket. He sat forward but slouched into the couch with one arm bent at the elbow to rest on the arm of the couch and the other thrown across the back cushions. You sat between the two, sitting at a respectable distance from Eric, or as much as Sarah was willing to give you. You sat down into the couch with your head thrown back to rest on the back cushions and Eric's arm, as it was in the way of the cushions but it seemed like neither of you minded your head on his arm.

From your peripherals, you could see Eric looking in your direction. His head was kinked forward a bit, possibly looking past you.

You turned your head, curious at what caught his attention.

Sarah was passed out in her corner. Her arms crossed against her chest and head nestled in between her pillow and the back cushions of the couch. She looked peaceful. Her face lacked the frequent ornery expression that she wore.

You huffed a smile and got back into your original position, getting comfy again.

"I like you, y'know?" Eric stated quietly, voice just above a whisper.

"I know," You think nothing about his statement, forgetting what Sarah told you just hours earlier.

"No, Y/N," Eric saying your name really caught your attention. You turned your head towards him as he continued. "I really like you."

"Oh," You stared at Eric, heat already rushing towards your face and heart speeding up due to nervousness and anticipation. "Really?"

"Yeah," Your friend looked sheepish as he confessed.

"That's...," You paused, choosing your words out carefully amongst your racing thoughts. "I like you too, Eric."

"Really?" He seemed surprised. "Enough to be my girlfriend?"

"Of course, Eric," You tell him. "We hang out like all the time. So, I'd love to be your girlfriend."

Eric's slightly nervous expression shifted into something that was akin to uncontained happiness. He smiled so wide his cheeks almost caused his eyes to squint closed. Using the arm under your head, Eric pulled you close, like super close and into his chest.

You hugged him back the best you could in this position, squeezing him with almost the same amount of strength he squeezed you with.

"This is like.. so cool," Eric whispered loud enough for you to hear.

You shook your head at him, "You're a dork."

You two settled into each other, adjusting so you two could hold each other comfortably. A bit of movement caught your attention and you looked over to see Sarah look at you two with squinted eyes before settling back down.

"Finally," She sighed, pulling a blanket that you had on the back of the couch over herself.

You and Eric laughed quietly at her reaction, trying to stay quiet so the child was able to go back to sleep.

———

Request:

#the crow 1994 #the crow #eric draven #brandon lee #the crow x reader #the crow imagines #eric draven x reader #eric draven imagines #brandon lee x reader #brandon lee imagines

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dstryvampres · 6 months ago

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Come On Baby(Light My Fire) - Neil Lewis x Reader

MINORS DNI !!!!!

inspired by this song.(Light my fire by the doors)

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: weed use, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, sex while high, reader likes the doors sorry I forced that on you

Summary: Neil always comes after his shift to visit you on your late night shift, today he decides to bite the bullet and finally buy a CD from the store, and also ask you out I guess.

A/N: I've been on a huge doors kick recently and I really just wanted to force it onto you guys, and also neil because I love him. love my two male wives neil lewis and Jim Morrison xoxo

Exactly on time, 9:06pm, is when Neil Lewis prances into your store. The ding of the bell on top of the store’s door, every Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, close to the exact same time of 9:00pm to 9:10pm, was always Neil Lewis. He got off earlier on those days, having one of his friends and co-workers able to cover the last three hours until midnight that Gumshoe was open. You, unfortunately, were stuck until past midnight at your family owned music store, which Neil seemed to take advantage of as much as possible.

“Hello,” Neil greeted you coyly, walking up to the cash register where you stationed yourself for the night.

“Can I help you with anything?” You ask Neil, knowing you absolutely cannot.

“Nope.” Same answer as always.

Neil seemed to have no interest in music at all. Possibly only ever coming in here for a brief chat with you, then a quick stop by the soundtrack area of the store, then the discount area, all while still trying to hold a conversation with you. He would leave around 10 to 10:30pm, only to be back again the next day he could. Sometimes, you enjoyed his company, the jokes he cracked were funny, and he understood your struggles of working at a very niche sector of business. Other times, you wanted to beg him to get out of the store as soon as he came in. Possibly the latter is the case tonight, his big ass head is blocking your view of The Doors: Live at the Bowl ‘68 currently playing on the TV.

“How’s work been going for you?” Neil asks.

“Slow.” Tonight you’ll entertain his presence.

“Really? It was quite busy for a Monday at Gumshoe,” Neil gloats, smiling to himself, far too pleased that his store was doing better than yours.

“Oh yeah? All five of the movie nerds in the city came over today?” You tease, rolling your eyes at Neil’s gloating.

“Actually, it was mostly new people today,” Neil says, turning around to look at the TV now.

“Oh great, just what this world needs, more Gumshoe regulars.”

“You say that like anyone who frequents this store is any better. All that TV plays is music for pretentious losers, like yourself.” Neil glares at you from the corner of his eye, annoyed, but the smile on his face makes his expression more teasing.

“Atleast people know The Doors. Everytime I walk into your store the TV’s always playing something no one’s heard about,” you retort, going back to focusing on the performance instead of Neil.

“I’ll have you know every movie I play at Gumshoe holds importance, and is something everyone should know, even if they don’t,” Neil sighs, “I’m looking to educate the public.”

“How noble.”

Neil scoffs at your comment before walking off to the discount section of the store, leaving you to watch the TV alone. Even on your busier days the store seemed to slow down at this time. Usually it is just you and Neil when he comes in, maybe an additional straggler present who came into the store knowing what they wanted already. Now that Neil’s at the discount section, you know he’ll be busy for a little bit and decide to step out from the cash register to do some cleaning for the night. Mindless work to help you go home quicker when the store finally closes its doors to the public at 12am. Your boots thump on the concrete floor as you walk around the store to put everything back to normal. Letting Neil do his rounds around the store.

Ding.

Turning around to the noise, you find Neil smiling in front of the cash register. Tonight, he’s finally buying something. You never thought the day would come. Neil, a paying customer, and not just a window shopper. You rush over to the cash register to ring him up, excited to see what he finally thought was good enough to buy here.

“Woah! Slow down, you’re acting like I’m robbing you instead of buying from you,” Neil laughs, putting the CD down onto the counter.

It’s The Doors self titled album. You look at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“The performance on the TV persuaded me,” he smiles, looking away from your gaze.

“You always striked me as a vinyl guy,” you take the CD in your hands and open it, making sure the CD isn’t scratched before scanning it.

“I am, I just wanted to listen to it in my car. I was actually hoping that – uh – you’d come listen to it with me after your shift ends,” Neil gulps, wringing his hands out.

“Sure. Why not?” You hand him the CD, “That’ll be 20 dollars and 65 cents by the way.”

“Really? I mean– great. What time do you get off?” Neil slides you the money, you can feel how sweaty his palms are just from the money.

“12:30am, sorry for the wait,” you respond, now leaving the change on the counter to avoid another sweaty palmed encounter with Neil.

“No problem at all! I’ll see you at 12:30 then!” Neil exclaimed, waving a quick goodbye to you, CD and change in hand, before exiting with a huge smile on his face.

୨ৎ

The last three hours of your shift went quite smoothly, a lack of customers allowing you to do most of your closing tasks before the store actually closed and at your own pace. You couldn’t tell if you it was because closing was so easy today or because you were seeing Neil after your shift, but your body felt weirdly tingly with excitement. Neil’s car was parked right outside of the front door of the shop, it was hard to miss because of this, and also because Neil rolled down his window and as soon as you stepped out of the shop he yelled your name and then motioned over. Quickly you lock the door to the shop and open the door to Neil’s car, sliding into the front passenger seat.

“Thanks again for coming out tonight,” Neil said, giving you a soft smile. He then reaches over to the glove box to pull out the CD he just bought and hands it to you. “Will you do the honours?”

“Of course,” you open up the CD’s jewel case and carefully slide the CD into the cars slot.

Neil started driving as the CD whirled around without any noise, before finally the sound of the soft percussion started the album off. You let the song settle into the car staring out the window as Neil drives around, seeming to drive around aimlessly.

“You want to go anywhere in specific?” Neil asks. He had let it get to the second song of the album before saying anything.

“Not really no…” you muse, biting your lip in thought for a couple seconds, “you know for my first time experiencing this album fully, I was high. If you’re not into that it’s no big deal, but, if you are, I have some pot back at home.”

“Yeah, that’d be good,” Neil sighs out, “Lead me there.”

You lead Neil through a stream of winding roads and suburb strips until you guys reach your apartment complex. Allowing Neil to park in a guest spot, he pops out the CD and puts it back into the jewel case. You lead him into the building, and up the elevator. Fiddling around with your keys at your door, before pushing it into the lock and letting the both of you in.

“It’s a little messy, didn’t know I’d have a visiter tonight,” you apologized, closing the front door behind you with your foot and putting the keys on the wall.

“Oh, it’s no worries. You should see my place,” Neil jokes, kickings off his shoes waiting for you to lead the way.

After working off your shoes you lead Neil to your kitchen. Squating down and rummaging through the back of a bottom cupboard until you find your stash in an air tight container. You pull it out of the cupboard, a couple prerolls and some edibles sit in the clear container. Good enough for tonight.

“Shall we?” you ask, standing up and grabbing your lighter.

“Take me away,” Neil says, you take his hand and lead him out to your small balcony.

Your CD player is still out here from last night, you were in a rush to get to the store after sleeping in and forgot to put it back inside. Luckily it didn’t rain and the player is in the same condition it was as before. Neil hands you the CD and you pop it into the player, in return you hand him a joint.

“Let me tell you, this album is amazing sober, but I dare say it’s even better high.” You light his blunt before lighting your own.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Neil says, settling into the lawn chair.

The album starts up once again, ringing out between the two nof you. This time, you feel ths silence is less awkward.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while,” Neil admits, out of the blue.

“Really? How long?” You look over at him, a blunt in his hand as he stares out into the city.

“Yeah, about half a year now. I don’t come into that store because I like music, y’know?” Neil looks at you now, only you.

The lighting from inside your apartment behind him lights up his beautiful bone structure, the light of the fire of the blunt lights up his eyes, and the brief light from the city allows you to catch all the high points of his face. You didn’t realise just how beautiful Neil was until now.

“I mean I could tell you didn’t care for the music, but I just thought you were bored,” you take another hit.

“I mean the first couple of times sure, but I don’t know, there was just something about you that intrigued me. You’re funny, and hot, and so unique,” Neil admits, his eyes not leaving yours.

“Thank you.”

“I mean it,” he blinks slowly and then looks bacl out at the city, continuing, “What don you like about this album?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, laughing, “I had a weird Doors phase at some point in highschool and, I guess, the album stuck through even afterwards. What, do you not like it?”

“No, it’s great. I just want to get to know you better,” Neil says, shaking his head.

“Well, what music do you like?” you ask.

“Soundtracks, but you know that one. I really liked grunge in high school, I guess that stuck with me too a little bit,” Neil purses his lips together, coughing a little.

“Never pegged you as a grunge fan,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m full of surprises,” Neil jokes, sending you both into a fit of laughter. Something like that usually wouldn’t set you off like that, but for some reason, it was the funniest thing tonight.

The winding chords to Light My Fire started to hit when you both calmed down from the laughter, and when you’ve both started to reach the end of the rolls.

Neil reaches out his hand to you, “Want to dance?”

You nod and take his hand, putting out your blunt as you stand. You both push the chairs off to the side, before setting off into a weird unnatural dance together. It was barely together, the only thing connecting you is the brief stints in which you guys hold hands, maybe Neil spins you around when your hands come together. At some point you guys get so close that when you look up to Neil your face to face with him. He looks at you for a couple seconds before slowly kissing you on the lips, it’s soft and welcoming, allowing for you to reciprocate. Both of you break away quite quickly, another beat, your lips are pressed together again with his. This time the kiss is hungrier, you bite at his lips softly, and he slips his tongue into your mouth.

“Do you, uh– Want to take this further?” Neil asks, breaking away from the kiss. His pupils are huge, and his hair is messy.

“Yeah,” you respond, before going back into the kiss.

Both of you stumble through the apartment and into your bedroom while kissing. You feel the back of your knees hit your mattress before Neil gently pushes you backwards onto the bed. You look up at him, he’s breathing heavily, blue eyes scanning over your body hungerily. His lips are on yours again, tongue searching your mouth, he fondles your breasts through your shirt. You could feel wetness pool in your panties as Neil started to drag his kisses down to your neck. His fingers grazed your clothed stomach before coming to toy with the hem of your shirt teasing pushing it up slowly, fingers ghosting over your stomach making you whine out. You lightly grab at his hair, tugging it to edge him on to take off your shirt already. Neil takes the hint and pushes you shirt upwards exposing your breasts to him.

Neil smiles looking up at you before taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking the bud and rolling his tongue over it. You moan out at the sensation, staring up at the ceiling, focusing on the pleasure Neil is providing you at the moment. Your body is hot, you want him to hurry up and fuck you. Alas, Neil takes his time with your breasts, toying with both of them using his mouth and fingers. It’s both agonizing and feels so good. He watches you the whole time, taking pleasure in watching your face contort in pleasure and frustration.

Finally, Neil captures you in a heated kiss again, before breaking off and taking his own shirt off. He places your hands on his chest, allowing you to feel his body’s heat as well as his heartbeat. His heartbeat is fast, mimicking the rise and fall of his chest. You run your hands over his chest and down his arms to his hands, placing them at the top of your jeans, basically begging him to take them off. He unbuttons your jeans, slowly, like he’s done almost everything tonight. Pulling them down with your help to expose your panties, soiled with you wetness. He stares at the wet patch on your panties for a second. Grinning the whole time.

“You flatter me,” Neil says, sliding his own pants down his legs, erection glaringly present. He lets them fall into the pool of pants at the edge of them bed.

Sliding a finger up and down your clothed heat, Neil climbs back into bed with you. Diving back in to kiss you. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms are his neck. His erection presses up against your heat, and he grinds against you. He only lasts about a minute teasing you this way before he’s discarding your panties and positioning his fingers outside your cunt.

“Please,” you whimper out, and within the same breathe his fingers have entered you.

It’s slow at first, a rhythmic in and out pace, stretching you out as best and he can, but your moans fuel him to move his fingers faster. Soon enough your gripping the sheets just at his fingers as they push on your gummy walls deliciously and feverishly. His other hand rubs up and down your thigh, watching as you twitch and moan on his fingers, watching as your pussy takes his fingers in so easily. You clench around his fingers, back arching at his work, and all the sudde his fingers are gone. You look at him with a look of betrayal, which is quickly settled when you see him slide his underwear off, exposing his cock.

“Can I fuck you?” Neil asks, like his swollen tip isn’t already pressed against your entrance.

“Yes please.”

It’s all Neil needs before he’s sliding into you, stretching you out so nicely as he pushes in. When he bottoms out he’s pressed up against that sweet spot inside of you, almost like his cock is made just for you. Both of you sigh of as Neil stays still for a few seconds before pulling out of you slowly.

“Oh baby, your pussy ‘s so good,” Neil slurs, pushing back into you.

His hands find your waist as he pushes in and out of your pussy. With each thrust Neil’s speed increases, his once calculated and rhythmic thrusts becoming wild and irregular as he continues to fuck you. You scratch his back as he fucks into, moaning as your eyes roll back.

Who knew movie nerds were such good fucks?

“Can I flip you around baby?” Neil pants out, his grip on your waist tightened.

You nod and he slips out of you, allowing you to get on all fours before pushing back into you. He’s hitting further back in this position, stretching out and reaching parts of you that you forgot felt so good.

“Fuck, baby, you look so good, you feel so good,” Neil babbles as he resumes his pace.

You don’t think you can last much longer in this position, with Neil fucking a specific spot in you consistently. He reaches over a hand and starts toying with your nipple again, and thats when you feel the slip happening.

“I’m gon’ cum, Neil, gonna cum,” you whine, arms giving out and face getting shoved into a pillow by Neil’s thrusts.

“Oh– fuck, me neither, cum all over my cock for me, fuck please baby, god please, cum all over my cock,” Neil speeds up his thrusts, reaching his hand down from your boob to your clit.

Neil rubs quick fast circles into your clit. Steadily, but roughly fucking you into your own mattress.

For a moment everything goes black as all you can feel is the knot in your stomach come undone and a shiver run up your body.

When you return Neil is slumped over beside you, both of you laying down beside eachother. He strokes your hair softly before kissing your forehead.

“Thank you,” Neil whispers, bringing you into his chest.

You decide to stay like this for the night, too tired to move. Neil covers up the both of you letting you fall asleep in his arms.

#fanfic #neil lewis #cillian murphy x reader #watching the detectives #cillian murphy #neil lewis x reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian x fem!reader #neil lewis x y/n #neil lewis smut #neil lewis x you #neil lewis my pookie

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thebearer · 6 months ago

Note

Carmen and reader love watching movies together but Carmen sneakily decided to finish a movie that they were watching the night before while the reader was out doing an errand and when she comes back, he accidently spoils her on something that happens in the movie, later on in the day, like lunchtime or something.

i'm tweaking this a little to fit my own selfish niche which is bravo lmao. picturing him watching the reunion without you? there would be blood shed.

"Did you watch the reunion yet?" Natalie's eyes lit up when they met yours across the table. She was so happy Carmen met you, but she had never been more thankful than when she found out you were a fellow Bravoholic.

"No," You shake your head. "Carm worked late the other night, and I told him I'd wait for him but he's been so busy." Your voice dropped, looking around to make sure he hadn't snuck in yet.

Sugar snorted lightly. "You're telling me." She nodded in agreement. "I told him to quit working so much, that the rest of us are capable of handling things, but you know how he is."

"How who is?" Richie turned the corner, holding a pan of rolls for family dinner.

"Carm." Sugar rolled her eyes.

"Oh, how he's a fuckin' lunatic?" Richie said loudly, looking to make sure Carmen heard him.

"Can you hurry up? This shit's burnin' me." Carmen huffed, moving around Richie to drop the tray on the table.

"See?" Richie looked at you with a grin.

"See what? What?" Carmen grumbled, looking over at you. "What's he sayin'?"

"Nothing," You shook your head gently. "We were just talking about how we didn't get to watch the reunion because you've been busy."

"Oh," Carmen nodded, his face falling into a neutrality that had you curious.

"Yeah, cousin, you can't even go watch your prissy TV show anymore, huh? What's what tell you then? That you're workin' too damn hard."

"Shut up," Carmen snapped.

"Yeah, Carmen, it's getting bad." Natalie chimed in. "You missed the best reunion they've had on that entire show-"

"-Gimme a fuckin' break." Carmen scoffed, rolling his eyes. "It was the same shit it always was. They didn't even talk about the-" Carmen stopped himself, refusing to look at you, but he could feel your glare on him. Shocked and furious, the room fell into snickering and mocking "ooh's", and for a moment, Carmen felt he was in elementary school again, when a kid would get told off by the teacher.

"Oh shit!" Richie snickered.

"You watched it without me?" You sneered, glaring at him.

"I-I, I mean, I was-I-" Carmen stammered, cheeks heating in embarrassment. How could he tell you that he meant to wait, he did, but he put it on to order produce. He was just going to watch the beginning, not the entirety, but one thing lead to the other...

"So you can't come home to watch it with me, but you can watch it in your free time?" Your lips twisted in fury. "When I told you I would wait to watch it with you, and you didn't-"

"-Alright, can we- can we not do this here?" Carmen muttered, looking around at the eyes, all amused and watching the two of you like their own Bravo show.

You let Carmen pull you into his office, ignoring the cacklings from the others when he shut the door. "I-I'm sorry." Carmen said, his hands on your arms gently. "I didn't mean to, I swear to God, I didn't mean to watch it all."

"Who'd you watch it with?" Your eyes narrowed. "Some other bitch-"

Carmen rolled his eyes, scoffing at you. "Yeah, Fak." He chided sarcastically. "No, it wasn't- I was just orderin' produce and I put it on for background noise. I didn't-I wasn't even thinking, and then I watched it all, and-and I was gonna come home early tonight so we can watch it because I felt bad about it."

You looked at him, brows still creased, still furious, but you could feel yourself relenting, giving in to him. "Fine." You grumbled. "But you're making it up to me. My feelings are hurt. I can't believe you watched it without me."

"I know, I'm sorry." Carmen nodded, his palms sweaty with guilt, he hoped you couldn't feel them. He did feel bad. "I'll make it up to you."

"You better." You glared at him lightly. "And you've gotta manage your time better. You can't be here all the time, Carmen." Your expression softened. "I miss you, and I never see you anymore."

Carmen's shoulders fell, nodding slowly, pulling you into him. "I know, I- fuck- I know. I'll do better. I've just been so fuckin' stressed."

"I know you have." You hummed, letting your arms circle around him. He held you like that for a moment, lips catching yours in a slow, soft kiss before pulling back.

"You better not spoil one single thing, Berzatto." You glared at him, pointing a finger towards him.

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nqueso-emergency · 3 months ago

Note

I don't hate on the big buddie aircraft carrier that apparently dominates this fandom, but tbh I doubt that Buddie will be a thing in S8 unless it's to cause angst and pain. Because there is no way Eddie as he is now is ready for any relationship other than him with grief and forgiveness.

The ship war is so stupid. The general audience don't CARE who Buck ends up with. I will bet actual money that the majority of viewers don't know or remember the actors' names, outside of Angela Bassett, Peter Krause and Jennifer Love Hewitt. They're not watching it for hidden clues about who likes who or who hates who, they're watching it while having dinner and chatting with their family or friends or just to let their minds go blank for an hour. Also, it's a mainstream adventure/drama, it's not a niche little psychosexual horror/thriller made specifically to cater to a type of viewer. 911 is aiming for four quadrant appeal.

And cynically speaking, Lou Ferrigno Jr would be a get for the show to market with honestly, because older audiences are likely to remember his dad and be like "oh! His son's grown up handsome!" Name recognition helps, even if some peeps be yelling "Nepo baby!" from corners of the internet.

Anyway 😆 🤷🏻‍♀️ what do I know? I've only watched the different character-focused YouTube videos and the many clips on this here hellsite and read the wikis and TV tropes and the metas and just generally absorbed it all via osmosis instead of consuming the show like a human person. But I love Tommy Kinard and I love Lou's portrayal and I wanna see him shine, so I will bite the bullet and start in S8.

Have fun, bitch loud, we are nearing season 8 ep 1

🐝🐝🐝

I love this!! Thank you for sending it 😌

#911 abc #911 discourse #nquesu wanna block #911 show #lou ferrigno jr #tommy kinard #bucktommy

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hometoursandotherstuff · 8 months ago

Text

This 1928 Spanish Revival in Long Beach, CA has so many wonderful retro features that are preserved. 3bds, 2ba, $1.02M.

Small foyer with a fancy carved arch and sconces sculpted into the wall. I've never seen anything like that.

But, look, there're more. Beautiful Spanish style fireplace and a recessed built-in bar.

The dining room has a shallow recessed wall niche that's just big enough to highlight a sideboard.

Check out this wonderful original kitchen. Vintage stove, cabinets, tile, everything. I have to appreciate how the owners took such good care of it.

Original backsplash and faucet.

The mirrored door opens to the old milk delivery window. They must've put that little plastic shelf in the wall for steel wool soap pads (when everyone knows that you simply put them back in the box and they're good as new).

Wonderful vintage stove.

What a lovely, sunny kitchen dining space.

And, look, it has 2 corner cabinets.

Check this out- not only does it have a folding ironing board, but it has a little board for sleeves.

And, look at this- a little galvanized metal lined cabinet for the iron. I wonder if the vintage iron will convey.

TV room. (Could they have chosen more uncomfortable chairs?)

Now, here we are in a closet.

A trap door in the floor opens to the basement. Since I only see one step, it must have a ladder.

This bedroom is lovely, but it's not very big since they have the bed on an angle.

The bath! It has a big built-in vanity table.

And, orchid plumbing fixtures. I've seen vintage colored sinks and tubs, but they always have a new white toilet. They may have gotten this toilet from an architectural salvage yard.

In the hall, ahead, there's a built-in desk. On the left is a built-in armoire. And, there's also a phone niche with a folding seat.

The primary bedroom is so royal looking. It looks like Old English around the ceiling border. And, look at the built-in with the pull-out mirrors.

Beautiful vintage shower room.

This home is amazing- gated driveway with porte cochere and 2 car garage.

In the large yard is an addition.

It's a large addition and has this great studio, plus 2 other big rooms that use for storage.

And, look at this detail in the wall outside- a little gnome niche.

The lot is .15 acre.

https://www.compass.com/listing/1985-san-francisco-avenue-long-beach-ca-90806/1532701137276580849/

#spanish revival homes #old house dreams #houses #house tours #home tour

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liarom1ove · 3 months ago

Text

Whispers of Ether

A regular girl trying to live her best life in modern London is surprised when she receives a mysterious box from a distant relative-especially odd since she's an orphan. Naturally, she checks the box for anything valuable and finds a ruby necklace and a strange book. Imagine her shock when she wakes up in a world filled with monsters, realizing she's more connected to this place than she’d like to admit.

A tale of a modern girl in Middle Earth.

Warnings: none

~~The inherence~~

Y/N sank into her bed, the soft, worn duvet folding around her as she settled in with a satisfied sigh. The record player in the corner spun gently, filling the room with Adele’s soothing voice. A steaming cup of tea sat on her bedside table, its fragrant Earl Grey scent mingling with the warm vanilla and cinnamon notes of the candle flickering nearby. Everything about the moment felt comforting, almost perfect.

But her eyes kept drifting back to the mysterious box from Mr. Hawthorne, the lawyer. It sat on the bedspread in front of her, its intricate carvings catching the fading light in a way that made it hard to ignore. For a while, she just stared, uncertainty pooling in her chest. She recalled her brief, confusing conversation with the man, her curiosity now battling with the creeping sense of unease.

Y/N wasn’t exactly living a glamorous life, but she had carved out her little niche in London—working long hours, meeting up with friends for a pint when she could, and binge-watching terrible reality TV whenever the mood struck. It wasn’t perfect, but it was her routine, predictable in a comforting sort of way. So, when a knock sounded at her door one evening, she assumed it was her elderly neighbour, Mrs Jenkins, needing help with her Wi-Fi again.

But when she opened the door, it wasn’t Mrs. Jenkins. Instead, a man stood there looking as though he’d stepped straight out of a Victorian novel. His suit was immaculate, every line crisp, and his expression so severe that Y/N half-expected him to start reciting from a legal document on the spot.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" His voice was clipped, formal—like he was ticking off boxes in his head.

"Depends," Y/N said, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. "Who’s asking?"

"Kelvin Hawthorne, solicitor. I’m here regarding the estate of your late relative, Mrs. Aina Althariel." He extended a small, ornate box toward her, handling it like it was something far more important than it looked. "I regret to inform you that Mrs Althariel passed away last night, and according to her will, this is to be given to you."

Y/N blinked, thrown for a moment. She tilted her head, a frown forming on her face. "Right… you sure you’ve got the right Y/N? Last I checked, my family tree barely qualifies as a shrub.”

Mr. Hawthorne didn’t flinch. His expression remained as stony as ever. "There’s no mistake. According to the records," he said, his voice calm and precise, "Mrs. Althariel was a distant relative, and she made specific arrangements for you to receive this."

"Uh-huh," Y/N muttered, eyeing the box with growing suspicion. Still, she took it, surprised by its weight in her hands. It was heavier than it looked, solid and somehow… significant. "Well, this is new. I usually just get bills or the occasional postcard from someone who thinks London’s still exotic. So… what’s the catch?"

"The catch," Mr. Hawthorne said, his voice steady and clipped, "is that you need to sign this document acknowledging receipt of the inheritance." With a swift, practiced movement, he produced a clipboard with a single sheet of paper and a pen, offering them to her with a flourish that felt strangely formal, given the odd situation.

Y/N took the clipboard, raising an eyebrow as she skimmed over the document. Just a standard acknowledgement form—confirming that she’d received the box and, apparently, its mysteries. She let out a sigh, the weight of the moment settling on her shoulders.

"Fine," she muttered, signing her name at the bottom with a dramatic flourish of her own. "Signed, sealed, and delivered."

Mr. Hawthorne gave a brisk nod, his lips curling into what barely passed for a smile. "My job here is done. Enjoy the… memento. Good evening, Miss."

"Really? No cryptic warnings? No riddles? Just paperwork?" Y/N quipped, but he was already turning to leave, his back straight, every movement measured. She stood there for a moment, watching him head down the hallway, half-expecting him to vanish into thin air. He didn’t, but the click of the door behind her felt strangely final.

"Well, that was… weird," she muttered under her breath, glancing down at the ornate box now in her hands. "What in the world have I gotten myself into?"

The carvings on the surface of the box were intricate, swirling patterns that seemed almost alive in the soft light. Y/N traced her fingers over them, appreciating the delicate craftsmanship. There was something oddly mesmerizing about the design as if the swirls were guiding her touch along invisible paths.

With a playful roll of her eyes, she leaned forward and flipped open the latch. "Well, Aina, let's see what kind of skeletons you've got in your box," she muttered under her breath. "Literally, I hope not."

The box creaked slightly as the lid opened, revealing its contents. The first thing she noticed was the nestled, on a bed of rich, dark velvet, ruby-red necklace. The jewel shimmered with an almost hypnotic brilliance, the deep red gem glowing faintly as if it had a heartbeat of its own. Y/N's breath hitched for a moment, a blend of awe and scepticism crossing her face.

"Well, this is definitely not your average heirloom," she murmured, her fingers hovering just above the necklace.

She hesitated only briefly before lifting the pendant from its velvet bed, the ruby swaying slightly in the air. It was set in a delicate frame of gold, shaped like a teardrop, surrounded by intricate filigree that caught the dim light of her room. As she turned it over in her hands, she noticed the same swirling patterns etched into the gold that adorned the box, as though they were part of the same ancient design. Even more curious, the ruby seemed to pulse gently in response to her touch, its faint glow intensifying for just a moment.

"Let’s see how you look on me."

With a small grin, she stood from the bed and crossed the room to the full-length mirror leaning against the wall. Holding the necklace up to her collarbone, she adjusted it, studying how the deep red of the ruby contrasted with her casual outfit. The gem sparkled against her skin, casting a faint, warm glow that seemed to enhance her features in a subtle, almost enchanting way.

"Well, aren’t you a stunner?" Y/N quipped, flashing herself a cheeky grin. There was something undeniably elegant about the necklace—it added a touch of mystery, an air of sophistication that felt at odds with her normal life.

Satisfied with the way it looked, she fastened the clasp behind her neck, the cool metal settling gently against her skin. She adjusted it once more, ensuring it hung just right. As she gazed at her reflection, a strange sensation washed over her as if the necklace was somehow more than it appeared. It wasn’t just beautiful—it felt… right.

"Regal, more like," she muttered, tilting her head as she studied herself in the mirror.

"Not too shabby for a piece of inherited jewellery," she mused aloud, twirling slightly to admire the way the ruby caught the light with every movement. "I suppose I should thank Aunt Aina for the fashion upgrade."

She returned to her bed, settling comfortably beside the box where old, yellowed parchments lay scattered. The pages were filled with strange, unfamiliar symbols—letters twisting and curling in ways her eyes couldn't quite follow.

She skimmed through the parchments, her brows knitting together in confusion. "A translation guide would be nice right about now," she muttered, letting out a wry chuckle. "Or maybe I should start brushing up on my Duolingo. Ancient rune edition?"

Setting the incomprehensible pages aside, her curiosity got the better of her as she reached back into the box. This time, her fingers grazed something solid—heavy and smooth. After a moment’s effort, she pulled out a thick, black leather-bound book. Its surface was aged but polished, and it held a weight that suggested more than just old stories.

With a breath, Y/N opened the book, and what she found inside made her eyes widen. The pages were filled with illustrations of creatures she had only ever seen in fantasy movies or read about in legends. Monsters with sharp fangs and claws, towering dragons with shimmering scales, and beings so strange they seemed to defy reality. Each creature was drawn in stunning detail, their lifelike precision enough to make her feel as though they were on the verge of leaping off the page. Beneath each illustration were notes written in what appeared to be runes—more indecipherable symbols that deepened the mystery.

"What in the world…?" she whispered, flipping through the book slowly. The drawings were both terrifying and mesmerizing, each creature a mix of beauty and danger, almost as if they belonged to some long-forgotten world.

As she turned another page, something even more remarkable fell into her lap—a large, folded map. She carefully unfolded it, revealing a vast, meticulously drawn landscape. Mountains loomed high, forests stretched endlessly, rivers carved their way through valleys, and cities dotted the map, all labelled with names she couldn’t begin to pronounce. The map was so detailed, that it almost felt as if she were holding an entire world in her hands.

"Middle-earth?" Y/N read aloud, the name scrawled across the top of the map in elegant, unfamiliar script. "What even is that? Some kind of theme park?" She scoffed lightly, but her curiosity deepened.

The book was filled with strange symbols and runes, their meanings elusive, as if taunting her to figure out the puzzle. Her brow furrowed, frustration starting to build as she traced her fingers over the intricate lines.

"Alright, Aina, you've got my attention," she muttered with a half-smile, the amusement in her voice mingling with genuine intrigue. "What the bloody hell is all this?"

With a sigh, Y/N absently traced the runes with her finger, running over the grooves in the ancient parchment. She was on the verge of tossing it aside when the impossible happened—the symbols began to shift and reshape right beneath her touch.

She jerked her hand back as though the page had suddenly scorched her. "What the—?"

The runes danced across the page, morphing fluidly into letters, then words. The transformation was graceful, almost as though the text had been waiting for her to touch it. Slowly, words in plain English appeared, as clear as if they had always been there, hidden in plain sight:

To the last Althariel who bears the name, your destiny lies beyond this world.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She blinked rapidly, rubbing her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things, but the words stayed, clear and stark on the page.

"This… this can’t be real," she whispered to herself, a shiver running down her spine. Glancing around her bedroom, everything remained as it was—the flickering candle, her steaming cup of tea, the soft hum of Adele from the record player. Everything was perfectly normal, except for the impossible message staring back at her.

Y/N was still staring at the shifting runes when a sudden clap of thunder echoed through the room, so loud it nearly sent her heart into overdrive. Startled, she snapped her gaze toward the window. Heavy rain now lashed against the glass, distorting the usually sharp glow of the city lights outside.

"When did that happen?" she muttered, her voice barely audible over the storm. The once cozy, calm atmosphere had shifted dramatically, the warm candlelight now flickering eerily as flashes of lightning turned the night into a chaotic strobe.

The tension in the air was thick, like something was building, waiting to burst. But the sharp sting of reality snapped her back. She glanced at the clock on the wall, and a wave of panic hit her like a cold slap.

"Shit!" Y/N yelped, jolted from her daze. She was 30 minutes late for work.

Her heart hammered as she dashed around her apartment, throwing on her jacket while trying to pull her hair into something vaguely professional. She could already picture the disaster awaiting her at the office. Y/N worked at a top-tier music production company—the kind of place that could either make or break an artist's career. It was her dream to one day be the one making the deals, but for now, she was just the assistant to Felicity Kennedy, a woman who could strike fear into the bravest souls.

Felicity Kennedy, Y/N’s boss, was as sharp as she was brutal, a woman who could reduce anyone to tears with a single glare. If there was one thing Felicity hated more than incompetence, it was tardiness. Y/N could already hear her icy voice, dripping with scorn, as she'd undoubtedly demand an explanation for being late.

"Felicity is so going to kill me," Y/N groaned, frantically throwing the last few items into her bag, barely managing not to trip over herself on the way out.

But just as she was about to rush out the door, her eyes caught on the black leather book, still resting on her bed like some ancient relic. For a split second, she hesitated. Something about that book—the way it felt in her hands, the mysterious writing that had changed—called to her. It had weight, not just physically, but in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Without really thinking about it, she reached back, grabbed the book, and stuffed it into her bag. Whatever this was, she wasn’t leaving it behind.

As she was finishing putting on her shoes, the shrill ring of her phone made her wince. She didn't need to look at the screen to know who it was.

"Hello—" Y/N began, but she was immediately cut off.

"Where the hell are you, Y/L/N?" Felicity hissed through the phone. The sheer irritation in her voice was palpable, even over the storm's howling winds. "You know we have the meeting with Styles today, and I need you here. Now!"

"I know, Mrs. Kennedy," Y/N replied, her tone as placating as she could manage while shoving the last of her things into her bag. "I just got a bit behind... but I'm on my way now."

She rushed out the door, cursing under her breath as she realized she'd forgotten her umbrella. The rain was relentless, sheets of water pouring from the sky as if the heavens themselves were angry.

Still, she knew she couldn't afford any more delays. Holding the phone tightly against her ear with one hand, she used the other to navigate her way through the downpour, bumping into people as she went. The rain blurred her vision, the city's usually vibrant colors reduced to a grey, indistinct haze.

"You better be, or I promise you won't have a job when you get here," Felicity snarled, her threat as sharp as a knife. "Or anywhere else."

"Yes, Mrs. Kennedy, I promise—" Y/N began, but her words were cut short, drowned out by the sudden, blinding flash of headlights.

She didn't have time to react. The world around her seemed to slow to a crawl as the bright lights of an oncoming truck bore down on her. The last thing she saw was the vehicle's massive grille, the rain glistening off its surface, before everything went black.

#the hobbit #the lonely mountain #desolation of smaug #dragon #lord of the rings #lotr #legolas #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #fili and kili #gandalf #the hobbit x reader #lotr fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #legolas x reader

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starandcloud · 8 months ago

Text

John "Soap" MacTavish Headcannons

This man can SPRINT in heels I will die on this hill

If it wasn't for the military, he'd sleep until noon

Probably work a nightshift too

He needs coffee to function, if he doesn't have coffee he's a grouch

Takes his time waking up, not an early bird

He needs like five alarms to wake up

Bathroom first kind of person

Sometimes takes a shower in the morning, depends on if he didn't the night before

COFFEE and juice

Sweet tooth, a horrible sweet tooth

Chocolate chip pancakes are his go to, or whatever the canteen has tbh he's not that picky

He sleeps in whatever, or just his boxers does not care-

He does not dress up, he's in a uniform and looks presentable 9/10 out of ten. He's in a t-shirt and sweats when he's not deployed

Takes a shower every night, sometimes multiple times in the same night if he still feels grimey after the first one

He doesn't take baths often, but when he does it has bubbles and a rubber duckie. He likes the simple things in life guys

He likes simple scents, nothing complex

He hates 3-in-1

He likes Mint toothpaste

He eats when he can, but has pocket snacks

He loves home cooked meals

He likes smoothies, the purple ones (that he can never remember the name of) he gets from a smoothie shop are his favorites

He never makes meals for later, he's not that organized-

Rarely has leftovers

Get's fast food once in a blue moon

Doesn't eat out much, unless it's a special occasion

He does most of the chores, he has a specific way he does things

DESPISES dishes, hates the feeling of the food being squishy and soft under his fingers

IMMEDIATELY washes dishes after using them

Does have a "laundry chair" but it doesn't last long tbh

Makes his bed in the morning, military taught him well

Has a car, but that's about it

Owns a car, but it's this little puddle hopper and it's beat up- He could afford a better car, but he's deployed a lot so he probably won't buy one

He literally takes his car through the biggest puddles ever, just to see the water arch. He's easily amused

Hates boats, especially after Graves

He has an Android

Special ringtones for everyone he cares about

He has it silenced 9/10, he silences it for missions and forgets to unsilence it

He has candy-crush on his phone and I will stand firm on this

He has the basic lock and home screens

He has snapchat but uses it for the filters, also has facebook for market place and Tiktok for the car videos

He has a few followers on Tiktok

He can block someone easy

He posts his cooking fails online

He probably has angered the baking/cooking niche online A LOT, dude probably has callouts from five years ago because he doesn't care-

He sleeps whenever, but totally has sleeping meds for his PTSD

He can either be up all night or in seconds, depends on how tired he is tbh

He's a light sleeper

He talks in his sleep, but it's mostly mumbles

Has nightmares more often than not

Has a bit of light from his TV, finds it hard to sleep without it

Sleeps with every window and door locked

Has his bed in the corner of the wall, hard to be attacked from both sides

His handwritting is damn near impossible to understand, sometimes Price has a hard time deciphering it

He's an outdoorsy type

The first memory is of being with him mom at a fair

He likes bread, just bread ;-;

He listens to literally everything, except classical it puts him to sleep

Very Artsy

He has Bachlers degree

He loves cats, and has one at his moms

Struggles with gifts tbh

He went from the tallest in his family, to the one of the shortest on his team

He's huge on physical touch, especially with his partner

He said something that made Ghost stop in his tracks once, and then ever did again. It was so stupid it was smart

Soap is so fucking sociable it honestly annoys Ghost

He really wants to get married, but doesn't want to put the stress of him always being deployed on his spouse and he doesn't want to die on them

He's allergic to Buckwheat, Shellfish, Balsam of Peru, Tegretol, and Cosmetics

Whenever something traumatic happens he shrugs and goes: "Well that happened" and goes on with his life

He has a lot of scars, mostly from war itself most of them are on his upper arms but some are on his chest and forearms

He has a scar from getting a gash on his leg when playing when he was a kid, he needed A LOT of stitches

He has one that looks like a cresant moon on his right hand ring finger

He honestly doesn't mind when people trace his scars, it's kinda soothing

A little kid once asked about one on his chest, which he got when a bomb went on prematurely, and he said he got it from a T-Rex to entertain the kid.

That was also when he decided he wanted kids, when the kids eyes blew open wide and they bounced on their toes asking more questions. Which he provided absurd answers until the kids mom rushed over and apologized

The one on his chest was from a near-death experience, learned really quick how to run really really fast

He holds his partner close during cuddling, if their back is against his chest his face in buried in their neck. If he's laying on top of them, he has his head against their stomach and his arms protectively around their waist, or if his head is on his lap he just gently holds them and usually falls asleep

He's close with all of his family but is 1n00% a momma's boy

He stims by making faces, which is slightly weird if you don't know him wel

#soap #Soap #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap mctavish #soap mw3 #141 #simon ghost riley #john soap mctavish #Soap headcanons #john mactavish #johnny mactavish #Johnny Mactavish headcanons

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multiplicationdivision · 1 year ago

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Company Policy

Milo was stuck on the worst run he’d ever taken. Cargo needed in 2 days and just under that time to get there in his truck if he drove without sleeping. It would have been near torture and even if the payout was better than amazing, it wasn’t something he would’ve taken a week ago.

Milo had a trick these days.

He’d picked up a hitchhiker. A backpacking twenty something, dumb and rugged. A golden retriever of a man that was handsome in a sense, but not in any way Milo was interested in. Too sweet and trusting for him. Men didn’t last long around him like that.

Especially now.

He’d been sweaty when Milo had picked him up, his shirt wet with the hot sun and turned to mud from the dust. That’s what you ask for travelling around the middle of the southern nowhere. Barely a thing worth shit on the endless roads between truck stops and motels. Maybe a rattlesnake or two.

It had been easy to get the happy fool to wear one of his backup Tees. He kept his spare uniforms in the back, enough to last him the long trips. Gray polyester that was boringly company policy to wear no matter what. Like Milo was employed under Amazon or FedEx instead the knock off generic delivery company that was obsessed with him maintaining their nonexistent brand.

Company policy was absolute. Not the soft idea of absolute, Milo receiving consequences for not following the rules or maybe even getting fired. Nothing weak and mundane like that.

Company policy like this was some mind-bending shit. It wasn’t something that could be broken, not by Milo who’d already signed his employment contract. He was bound by it’s rules and it would be a claustrophobic feeling had he not gotten such a good contract. Great pay, great time off and an understanding boss. He could deal with the strange aspects of that contract for the benefits. Even manipulate them sometimes.

Only employees can wear their uniform. The contract states that on page 2 in full bold letters. Followed by a bunch of stipulations about assignment of uniform sizes and assorted accommodations.

The hitchhiker wore one of his shirts now. His ragged sweaty one was somewhere on the floor, balled up under the passenger seat. The man had said it was surprisingly comfortable for a uniform. Said he’d worked as a cashier for some fast-food joint and that theirs were scratchy. He’d said he was surprised Milo’s shirt fit him so well.

Company policy demands that only the employee who owns the uniform wears the uniform. Milo wondered if the hitchhiker noticed how baggy the shirt was on him minutes ago. How it sagged around his shoulders, the man smaller than him by far. Now it fit perfectly, tight against his skin.

Milo asks if the man knows about his favorite TV show. Some niche drama going back to the 90s, echoing the same plots over and over and over. The hitchhiker squints his darkening eyebrows, recognition blooming in real time. The man just remembering something he’d surely never watched.

He’d been clean shaven, but now the guy’s face was covered in a shadow that Milo recognized. He’d discuss his travels as he gazed outside. Not noticing the moment when the tales of a hitchhiker faded into recollections of hauls gone hilariously wrong.

Milo watched the changes out the corner of his eye, relaxing as the awkward conversation became easy. Their language becoming more and more alike by the second, the nervous dog of a man becoming loud like Milo. Discussing their nearly identical plan of scaling the Devil’s Tower and free climbing whatever parts of the Grand Canyon they could get to. Bragging about how little they needed to workout with so much time to spend climbing.

The other made sounds of discomfort every now and then. Milo wondered if it hurt to have a life scooped out and filled in again. It was likely just disorienting, the hitchhiker seeming to try to recount his college years only to remember that he’d been a cross country trucker for the last six years. He’d laughed about how nice it was that truckers could rely on each other when they needed help. Milo joked that it was hard not to pick him up when he was so handsome. They laughed because they looked remarkably similar.

At some point, Milo realized that he had ended up in the passenger seat. As if he’d slowly bled into existence without the awareness to realize it. Feeling a slight desynchrony from the still sweaty cargo shorts and trainers he’d been left with. The other Milo laughed at him when he complained. They both knew he had brought an extra pair of sneakers for this exact situation.

They were mirror images now, matching short beards and curly hair. A situation they were both used to by now. Three times policy had assured that the person wearing his uniform was Milo, no matter how it broke the rules of reality to do so. They were short staffed so his boss had told him to keep it coming.

Milo would always have a buddy for the road, someone to trade shifts with as the other slept. Another Milo keeping him company in every state, at every stop. It only cost a few nobodies and a shirt or pants.

It was a good trick.

#identical #copy #shapeshift #clones #male shapeshift #clothing tf #personality change #male tf #male transformation #my writing

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gingerjunhan · 1 year ago

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boyfriend headcannons - kwak jiseok

☆彡 sorry for the delay on this one! I gotta wait for the delusions to hit juuust right before I write them LMAOOO hope you enjoy! 🫶🏻

word count: 812 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: all caps used, he’s a stem major (I don’t make the rules), teasing, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything!

← previous member | next member →

IT’S JISEOK TIIIIIMMMEEE

Jiseok doesn’t strike me with the same hardcore “boyfriend agenda” and Jungsu or Seungmin do, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be a great boyfriend!!

there would literally never be a dull moment between the two of you

he’s such a good listener

much like Gunil, Jiseok looks at you like you hung the stars when you talk, and he never forgets a single detail

all of your favorite hobbies? your niche interests? he knows everything about all of them

you are both giant nerds but it’s okay!

while you might geek out over tv shows and bands, Jiseok geeks out over science

he’s such a loser (/pos) (and I love him for it)

he will never escape my stem major headcannon NEVER

but this also means that he would be a great help with homework if you’re also a science oriented person!

chemistry? he’s got you

biology? piece of cake

you know what he can’t do?

PDA

again, I’ve talked about this, but I need to elaborate more

Jiseok blushes and practically folds in on himself like a chair at the slightest mention on girls

it’s one of the things I find the most endearing about him

so imagine how he feels walking around with you

he is absolutely baffled that you chose to date him so he gets so giddy and excited when you show PDA

he literally can’t handle it because he just loves you so much and he gets so excited

he’s like a little kid in a candy store- he just can’t get enough

SPEAKING OF LITTLE KIDS

Jiseok, much like Jungsu, would be great with your siblings or cousins!

he would talk video games with the older kids

good around with the younger kids

gang up on you with your family, always taking their side instead of yours

playful feasting is definitely a love language of his!

I think Jiseok would score some mega points with the adults in your family and also with your friends!

they would all see that he’s both incredibly musically talented and book smart, plus he makes you happy so he’s literally the ideal man

the jack of all trades of boyfriends

the… boyfriend of all trades? okay moving on

your friends are JEALOUS

“Where did you find him? I need a boyfriend like that!”

TOO BAD go get your own this one is mine hee hee 🤭

such a polite man

his manners 📈📈 through the roof

his middle name is chivalry

he would be the sweetest, most loving boyfie around 🥹

if something is not to your liking he’s fixing it for you right away!

your wish is his command

okay we need to get back to the feasting real quick

he is so goofy

downright odd

but we love him

I can fully imagine him hiding behind a corner or doorway just to pop out and scare you 💀

harmless pranks all the time

prank wars are very common between the two of you

you have a lot of very strange inside jokes that other people would literally need code to decipher because they wouldn’t make any sense to anyone else

Jiseok is always down for an adventure!

the most basic tasks feel fun with him because he knows exactly how to keep a good energy flowing!

but he can be serious too, don’t get me wrong

long, serious phone calls after a bad day at work or while he’s away are very common

he’s not afraid to get emotional with you!

Jiseok gubes me the vibe that if you cry, he’s gonna cry too (same tbh)

he just cares about you so deeply and he’s never felt that way about anyone else

he shows his love and appreciation for you in any way he can, no matter how odd

he buys you things that make him think of you

he probably has your work/school schedule memorized so he knows when he needs to make dinner or pitch in around the house because you might be busy

if you use a purse I can imagine him holding it for you and calling it his “murse” LMAOO

I feel like he would give you an assigned animal too? idk just a thought

“Well if I’m a duck then you have to be a goose because of duck duck goose.”

his logic? flawless

if you don’t know how to play already, be prepared for guitar lessons

if you don’t want the lessons, at least be ready for concerts

he will make up songs (sometimes they’re good, sometimes they’re not) or learn your favorite songs and perform them for you

and you will always be there in the front row :)

god I love Jiseok

at the end of the day, your relationship is lighthearted, fun, and Jiseok feels very lucky to have you in his life 🩷

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

#xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes imagine #xdh x reader #xdh imagines #xdh fluff #gaon x reader

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ohsunnyboy · 2 months ago

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never again | yoon keeho ˚₊‧⁺˖

you don't know what's cuter. you're boyfriend, lee keeho, or the delusion that the leafs will win the cup in either of your lifetimes.

TAGS: established relationship, toronto leafs fan!keeho, boston bruins fan!reader, screaming and shouting at a tv screen, fluff, maple leafs hockey is its own tw, drinking games!! keeho is lowk ooc

A/N: based off this iconic video. game 6 changed my brain chemistry and gave me hope until... well iykyk... here's the match recap. this is so niche it's entirely self indulgent sorry in advance lmao

WORDS: ~1000

If you're going to be a hockey fan, you should know the number one rule: don't date within the division.

The notorious ad aside, it's pretty clear, once it gets to playoffs with you two, everything's off the table. Especially if you're throwing couch cushions across the room when you're team can't convert on a power play. Cough, the leafs, cough.

Which made it especially weird when you, a Boston Bruins fan ended up dating Yoon Keeho, a fucking Toronto Maple Leafs fan.

"Oh my god are the refs blind?! That's clearly a holding call!" he cries. Ah, it really doesn't get sweeter than this.

"Shut up, he just boarded Lohrei with that! Penalty for both of them," you snarl out, eyes fixated on the tv screen, watching the play-by-play slo-mo of the hit. Lohrei crumpling against the boards as Holmberg practically folds him. "Look! They're not even calling it. Did you see Carolina yesterday? they were calling everything that breathed wrong."

With a sigh, both you and Keeho take a shot. At this rate, you both could be professional alcoholics with how many missed penalty calls there've been this series. You can already feel the regret in the morning trying to sink in with this drinking game.

Keeho hums beside you, but he's been practically vibrating out his skin the entire game. "That's just Svechnikov no? He's massi—OH MY GOD WILLIAM NYLANDER YOU SWEDISH BEAUTY!"

The screen erupts as Nylander finally opens the scoring for the Leafs. A sea of horrific blue and white exploding into cheers. Idly, you think it's the most lively you've seen Scotiabank Arena in years.

"Ugh, really?" And you just have to flop back into the couch corner as Keeho takes his victory lap around the room. Dressed in, of course, his Nylander jersey.

"Oh yeah baby! I could marry that man," he laughs, before very comically and somehow very seriously turning back to you. "After you, babe. Of course after you, love of my life, angel of my univer-"

You hurl one of your last pillows at him. "Sit back down, idiot." The high flush on his face is pretty adorable, even if his alcohol breath stinks when he curls in next to you on the couch. Both of you are going to be crawling out of bed tomorrow for sure.

From above and below your small apartment you can hear the same screams. With the window propped open, you can even hear horns go off in the streets. Capital of Hockey and all that. Moving here to be with Keeho had been hard to do, but so much more worth it for the hockey. Especially when Boston comes rolling into town: being the only Bruins fan for rows on rows was intimidating but so much sweeter if they won.

"I'm your idiot, idiot," he croons into your neck. Peppering you with cute and sloppy kisses across your skin. You finger's curl idly into his hair as you watch the ads spin by on the tv, signalling the end of the second period. His cold fingertips curl around your waist, idly smoothing circles into it. Curled up like this, it's the cosiest you could ask for - and somehow you don't mind the lack of pillows. You both make up for it with your shared body heat.

Carefully, you extract your phone from under him like he's a jenga tower about to fall, but game-drunk like this, he could probably sleep through the Leafs Stanley cup parade if they did win for once.

Twitter's the same as you left it: another TicTacTOmar clip of Lohrei and Holmberg, more Steve Dangle commentary and your Boston moots crowing about how the Leafs will lose it in the third period. Very, very secretly, you don't think they will. Swayman vs Woll as goalies are brilliant – and terribly good looking – but it must be the phase of the moon or something stupid, but Toronto might just win it this game.

Looking down at your sleeping beauty, Keeho is blissfully passed out on your chest. Face semi-flushed, mouth agape and drool leaking out. Yeah, this is going in the camera roll.

A quick snap and a venture into your settings is all it takes to set the glorious picture as your lock screen. And, if you squint, you can see Draisaitl's neon orange Skip ad in the background. Exactly why you're dating him in the first place.

"You really are my idiot, idiot," you murmur and you press a kiss to his hairline, a warm feeling roiling in your stomach.

Stashing your phone away, you ready yourself with a minute on the clock until the third starts. Saying that, you should really wake sleeping beauty up. "Hey... hey, get up. The Leafs lost in overtime again."

His eyes blink blearily as he processes your words. Slowly, then all at once, you can see the panic settle into his eyes as he sees your shit-eating grin. “No they didn't,” he whispers, but it borders on desperate.

You really can't help yourself. "Yup! There was even a line brawl," you sigh dramatically, bringing your hand to your forehead with a flair. "Swayman was even fighting Woll, a whole goalie scrap and you missed it."

"Nope! Not believing it." Keeho finally has the common sense to turn to look at the screen and realise the third's just begun. The stare of disappointment he gives you is cold enough to give Winnipeg a run for its money. "Never again."

You roll your eyes but just pat the space next to you for him to settle down properly on. "C'mon, whoever loses this has to get breakfast."

“You’re so on,” he huffs to agree, taking a bodily effort to sit back against the couch and on your cold feet. There’s a fire in his eyes that makes you regret this already. “I’m so making you drive to Timmy’s.”

Deep in your heart, if you had to choose Boston or Toronto to win the cup, you'd still choose Boston. But no matter how this series ends, you'd still love your boyfriend very, very much.

if this in any way endeared you to hockey come check my sideblog @wannadewar where i lament and fangirl! if you somehow enjoyed this, a like or reblog would be lovely :) ⭒ masterlist

#in honour of the new season starting #so niche its insane #hi 3 people #yoon keeho #yoon keeho x reader #toronto maple leafs #hockey #p1harmony #keeho fluff #yoon keeho fic #kpop x reader #kpop fanfiction #piwon #p1h keeho #p1h x reader #p1h fic #p1harmony fanfic #yoon keeho imagine #yoon keeho drabble

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