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theonewiththefanfics · 1 year ago

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Homecoming (one-shot)

Synopsys: When Y/N goes missing during a simple supply run, she comes back with world-shattering news for Astarion. News he never thought to hear, and now he has a decision to make, one that will shift his life on its axis once more.

Set after the main events of BG3

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, a bit of SMUT, but nothing explicit

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, but nothing explicit, kidnapping

Word count: 8397

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

Part 2(ish) - Love Conquers All (one-shot)

A home was not something to ever be taken for granted, that much they had learned during their adventures.

A home was a fire slowly crackling in the hearth, warmth expanding through the living room. A home was Astarion sitting on a loveseat, a book in his hands while he waited for his love to finish puttering around in the kitchen. A home was drying tea leaves and making preserves for the coming winter as she shooed him out, saying that his fussing would only hinder her process.

He’d huffed, puffed and whined, trying to make Y/N pull away from her plans just so they could curl up and read together, but she was adamant.

“I’ve already started.” She dropped an orange peel and pressed some lemon juice into the steaming pot. “It’ll be wasted produce if I just leave it now.”

“But it will take you hours!” Astarion whined like a child and even stomped his foot, making her snort.

“And it will take me twice as long if you don’t stop annoying me.” Y/N threw him a saccharine smile over her shoulder, batting her lashes at the pouting vampire. “Now, be a good boy, and quit pestering me. We’ll have all the time in the world, once I’m done.”

Astarion just groaned, going up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist, the incisors he usually sank into her neck now nipping at her lobe. “I can be a very good boy if you only let me prove it.”

“My love, you will be getting absolutely no sex from me, if you don’t let me at least finish this batch.” A shiver rushed down her spine as he licked at her neck, so close to that sweet spot he always used as a place to bite and drink from. But she had to be strong. The jams wouldn’t make themselves. “Every additional minute you keep me from this will be an additional day of your dry spell.”

The vampire spawn jumped back from her as if he’d been scalded, scarlet eyes narrowing in on her. “You wouldn’t dare. You wouldn’t last an hour!”

Y/N turned around, crossing her arms as a devious smile bloomed on her lips, a brow raised in challenge. “Would you like to test those waters?”

Astarion stood, staring her down. His crimson gaze was blazing from underneath his lashes, but she didn’t budge. They’d played this game for close to three years as a couple now, and she’d learned very quickly – Astarion was very much so a cat. But especially – he was a cat that liked to knock things over while keeping direct eye contact with you, though the second you placed a palm underneath whatever it was he wanted for to fall, all his need for chaos disappeared. It just wasn’t fun anymore.

For twenty long seconds, Y/N and her pale elven lover didn’t break, hoping the other would crumble and be announced as the loser, but part of what he loved about her, was her stubbornness. It was because of that part of her personality, she’d stuck by him when his doubts had crept in, when his own mind called him worthless and not good enough for her, almost as if to spite those vicious words in his mind. She didn’t give up on the people she loved, and as luck would have it, Astarion owned her heart.

But Y/N also knew how to handle a cat like him, so just after a few more tense moments, his eye twitched, and he huffed in defeat.

“Fine,” he scoffed. “But if you are not done by sundown, I shall have no other option but to drag you away from the stove. Kicking and screaming preferred.”

Y/N simply shook her head, and went to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling the man into a deep, breathless kiss, but not before nipping at his bottom lip, dragging the piece of flesh between her teeth and making him let out a desperate moan. “I’ll even let you tie me up if you wish to do so.”

Astarion’s pupils almost swallowed the red irises in a matter of seconds, as he threw his head back in a groan. “My love, you’re absolutely killing me here.”

“Then I hope whatever punishment you deem fit for me, will be just oh, so sweet.” Y/N stepped back, untangling herself from him, but the mischievousness in her eyes didn’t lessen.

She could see how the words tortured him, how it took every single last piece of his fraying self-control, to not rip off her apron and the clothes underneath and just lay her down on the kitchen table, legs spread with his mouth licking into her until she orgasmed.

With eyes holding nothing but pure lust and hands clenching and unclenching, Astarion retreated. Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t hot and bothered and absolutely dripping between her thighs, and the thought of finishing those jams was the last thing on her mind, but she did have to do it. If only to keep him waiting longer, knowing whatever his beautiful brain was cooking up would leave her screaming and shaking for hours.

They’d been growing their own vegetables and fruits, Y/N tending to them during the nights to spend more time with Astarion as he fussed over his flower gardens, so it would simply be wasteful to leave their berries to rot. The year had been very generous and offered a variety of things to gather, so a while back, she’d decided to pickle some of the tomatoes and cucumbers, turn another batch of peppers and tomatillos into sauces while the sweeter things would be turned into syrups and jams.

Y/N shook her head, trying to clear it from the haze of lust, as the aroma of lemons and cranberries, raspberries and oranges wafted all around, encasing her in the scent. She was just about to add the sugar when the tin rattled with the sound of the last grains left.

Her brow furrowed as she opened the lid and looked inside. Sure, enough it was empty.

The woman huffed. She was absolutely positive she’d gotten the right amount during the last trip, but somewhere along the way it seemed a miscalculation had happened, and now she had to get more. Y/N would have asked Astarion, and had the sun dipped below the horizon, he would have jumped at the request, but alas his little vampiric predicament forbade him from walking during the day, the sun still high in the sky from what she could see through a tiny slit in the shutters.

Quickly, Y/N snuffed out the flame below the pot, untied her dirtied apron and grabbed a basket from the pantry, tying a pouch of coins to her side. She only needed sugar, but maybe she would grab some other necessities as well. They were low on Astarion’s favourite wine, one he claimed didn’t taste like vinegar at least.

“I’m off to the market really quick,” Y/N announced as she peeked into the living room, taking in Astarion as he flipped a page in a book. “Do you want anything?”

“No, my love.” He looked at her like a love-sick puppy. “Just your darling self back as quick as you can. I have picked up some… inspiration for your punishment if you will. Just as you suggested, of course.” He closed the book, showing the cover to her.

Heat crawled all over her body as she read the title, one of her smuttier romances she had started to read, and when she could do nothing but gulp and nod, his smile turned from a sweet one into a wicked-fanged thing. It was all she needed to know whatever awaited her once she was done would leave her unable to walk. Gods, she needed to finish this whole thing up as quickly as she could.

Y/N was out the doors like the wind, the usual stroll to the market cut from half an hour into a brisk fifteen-minute jog, the thoughts of the man waiting back home for her at the forefront of her mind.

The needed sugar, some coffee beans, a loaf of fresh bread, Astarion’s wine and some sour cream were all bought in quick succession, Y/N didn’t even try to haggle. Her eyes drifted across various stalls and merchants and she almost deemed it done when her gaze caught onto a rose seedling. It was a beautiful bloom with blood-red petals that whitened at the very tips. She smiled and went to buy it. Astarion would love the symbolism even if a bit too on the nose.

Once satisfied with everything, Y/N marched across the market and was back on the road to home. It was a humble little house they’d purchased with whatever had been left in their pockets after all was said and done with the tadpoles, but Astarion had bigger plans. This was only a temporary situation.

“I want a whole room full of books. Nothing but books from one end to the other and then some,” he’d confided in Y/N one night after both were panting and spent from multiple rounds of bringing the other to ecstasy.

“And a large ballroom,” he continued, and Y/N couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped her.

“A ballroom? And what will we do with that?”

“Why, have grand balls, of course!” He threw his hands up in the air as if her question was preposterous.

“Star…” Y/N tilted her head to look up at him from where she was lying on his naked chest. “You hate people. A ballroom full of them – it would be your literal nightmare.”

“I don’t hate people.”

“I don’t count.”

“Alright,” he conceded, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. Y/N placed her palm atop where his heart was and rested her chin on it, looking deep into his eyes. “I hate most people, simply dislike them, but I wouldn’t be opposed to a get-together, from time to time. Maybe… maybe see our friends. Catch up on how they’re doing. I absolutely despise to admit this and will say you are lying if you ever mention it to anyone, but I – I miss them… even Gale…”

A gentle smile lifted her lips as she brushed a wild curl out of his face and tucked it behind his pointy ear. “I think I’d really like that too.”

His eyes were so soft and full of love, that Y/N swore she could feel his heart beating once more in his chest, thudding against her palm in a confession of adoration.

She was almost out of the city by that point, already on the small, secluded road leading to their house which lay on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate right by the edges of the woods, so Astarion had easier access to game in between feeding on her when her attention was drawn back by someone calling out.

“Miss!” the voice, male she made out, yelled after her. “Miss, please wait!”

Instantly, her guard was up, but when a breathless man, looking to be in his late sixties appeared from behind a copse of trees, she somewhat relaxed. Y/N was still cautious, but if anything, she had a dagger holstered against her thigh. She was always prepared.

“Miss,” he gasped out, leaning his hands against his knees to catch his breath. “Miss, you are a quick one. I’ve been calling for you since by the rose stalls."

“Oh, I – I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you!” Y/N said but didn’t move forward. “How can I help?”

He huffed, as if regaining her breath, before fishing out a piece of fabric from his pocket, and extending it towards her. “You dropped this by the flowers.”

When she took a closer look at what he was holding, it seemed to be some sort of a silk scarf. She narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t own silk scarves and definitely hadn’t worn one on such a warm day. “You must have mixed me up with someone, as it’s not mine. Sorry, for you to have troubled yourself like this.”

“No.” The man furrowed his brow, taking a step closer. “I am fairly certain I saw you drop it. Such a fine piece… didn’t want you to lose it.”

Y/N took a step back, angling herself in a defensive position with the basket in front of her. She didn’t like the tone he was speaking in, nor the way his eyes seemed to be appraising her. “No,” she asserted. “It’s not mine.”

His back stiffened, eyes growing cold, the grip on the scarf tightening as he hummed. “Well… a pity then.”

She took another step back, but he was already lunging at her.

Dropping the basket to the ground, she reached for the knife strapped at her thigh, but he was quick as a viper as she hadn’t even noticed when a rope appeared in his hands, lashing it at her. Years of having fought had kept her agile and aware, but years of domestic bliss with Astarion had dulled her senses a bit.

The rope caught and wrapped around her ankle, knocking her to the ground. Y/N’s teeth clattered and snapped, her tongue almost in between them, but as he rushed to pin her down, she twisted her leg around the rope and pulled, making the man lose his balance and stumble.

It was enough for her to swipe her leg underneath his, and send him sprawling. It was enough for her to untangle her legs and roll away as he snapped it at her head. Her clothes were dirty as was her face, but it didn’t matter. She’d cover herself in blood if needed.

It was almost animalistic how she pounced – teeth bared, a snarl ripping from her throat and hands forming claws as if she would gouge at his face with just his nails, but as her palm brushed her thigh, unclipping the holster for her dagger, Y/N didn’t see the man had crouched on his knee and swung the cord.

It knocked the air out of her, as it wrapped around her chest, and he pulled her down, hard. Her ribs were screaming as the tether tightened and tightened with every pull, but as she thought this would be it, something strange happened – instead of offering her the killing blow, he opened a palm, now covered in a leather glove, and blew the contents of it onto her face.

Y/N coughed and sputtered, but whatever it was, was fast-acting and her lungs, still incapable of proper breathing due to the rope couldn’t expel it. In just a few seconds, the bright day around her turned into darkness.

She didn’t know how long she was unconscious for, but enough time had passed to dry out her throat. Or was that a side effect of whatever was blown into her face? In any case, as she slowly came to, Y/N noted there was a soft mattress under her body, which was an oddity for someone kidnapped. She could even tell the dagger was still by her thigh, the comforting weight of the blade pressed under her. Even weirder, if you asked her, to not disarm your victims.

Darkness still encompassed her, but the soft cloth against her cheeks told her she hadn’t permanently lost her vision, but with her sight obscured, she had to rely on her ears. That’s when voices invaded her senses.

There were three people somewhere further away, most likely in a different room if taken by how muffled the words were. She focused harder on what they were saying.

Two men and a female, Y/N differentiated, when the woman spoke.

“This is not what we agreed upon!” she hissed, and a grumbly-sounding man scoffed.

“You said to get her to you. I did. You never specified how.” It was the same man who’d knocked her out.

“We want her to help us!” A different male voice, this one softer, even kinder, rebutted. “I highly doubt kidnapping is a good incentive for that!”

“Look,” her assailant said. “I fulfilled my end of the deal. She is unhurt, maybe she'll sport a couple of bruises and a headache, but that is her own fault. She could have come willingly but didn’t. Other than that, though – she is completely fine. Now you do your part!”

As the trio argued between themselves, more angry whispers than shouting, Y/N started to shimmy her hands which had been bound, out of the restraints. She had a good inclination they needed her alive but had no want of staying as a prisoner.

Though her fighting skills seemed to have mellowed, which she was not happy about, even a couple of years without mortally dangerous adventures, hadn’t changed how quickly she could slip her wrists from their bindings. Astarion might need to get more creative during their debauchery.

Y/N froze the second she heard a door open and shut, two pairs of footsteps moving closer and closer to where she was. Her breathing was shallow and almost imperceptible, as she tried to make it look like she was still unconscious.

She could sense two bodies enter the room and one move to stand where she faced, the other going to her back.

Y/N tensed. In just a few moments, whoever was behind her, would notice her undone binds. But she’d be ready.

“Darling, please be careful,” the woman said, a tremble in her voice.

Good. Let them be scared.

“Don’t worry,” the man replied. “I’ll just make sure she’s – what in the -”

But Y/N was already up, the blindfold off and ready to pounce. This time, she’d have the upper hand.

For a second, the light in the room blinded her, but her sight refocused fast enough to take in her captors’ faces.

The woman was beautiful, with high rosy cheekbones, and jade green eyes so vivid they looked like actual gemstones. Her hair was long and dark, down to her waist while grey strands seemed to have invaded the brown tresses in some places, but she was still ethereally gorgeous, her pointy ears covered in piercings.

Y/N snapped out of the shock quicker and using this to her advantage, she was behind her in a matter of a blink, her dagger pressed tight against her throat.

A gasp entered her ears, but she just pressed the blade harder, making her whimper.

“Please!” the man made her look at him, but instead of bracing for an attack, he had his hands up in surrender. “Please don’t hurt her! We just want to talk.”

“Funny way of having a conversation you’ve got there.” Y/N tightened her grip on the knife, surveying the man. Again, those same pointed ears, but his eyes were the most brilliant blue she’d ever seen and his face was marred with more age lines than the woman’s, yet he still was as gorgeous as she. “Typically, only my enemies would knock me out and tie me up before spilling their grand plans. But I will be kind and give you a choice – what would you like to be – friends or foes?”

“Friends! Friends! Please! We – we’re looking for our son!” the elven man pleaded. “And we – we heard a rumour that you might know him. Have even seen him.”

Y/N narrowed her Y/E/C eyes, piercing his with her gaze. “I’ve known and seen a lot of people. Usually, others just ask me about them, they don’t have someone kidnap me.”

“And we’re sorry, we’re so very sorry, but we had to make sure you came. It went too far and we apologise, but please…” He took in a deep breath, worried eyes flipping between his partner and her. “Our son – his name is Astarion. Astarion Ancunin. Have you – do you know of him?”

Hearing his name, knocked the breath out of her as if they’d snapped a rope around her chest again, making her stumble back. Her grip on the woman released, and she used the moment to leap over to her partner, using the bed as a buffer. He instantly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her half behind his back, but not before checking if Y/N’s dagger had pierced the skin.

Tears brimmed in the eleven woman’s green eyes as she looked at her, not even caring that just a moment before she was so close to having her blood dripping on the floor. “Please,” she whispered. “I – I know we didn’t go about it the right way, but please… is it true he’s alive?”

"I,” Y/N stammered, her gaze snapping back and forth between the two.

Astarion.

They were Astarion’s parents.

Even after all this time, they were searching for their missing son.

Y/N should have noticed the details – how the woman had a small mole on her cheek right where Astarion did, how the shape of the man’s eyes was the exact same as his son’s. Astarion even had the same high cheekbones as his mother while his sharp jaw was that of his father.

What had his eyes been like before? Green like his mother’s or the sky blue of his father's? What had he been like as a child? No doubt as mischievous and scheme-prone as he was now, but who had he gotten it from? So many different questions rattled through Y/N’s brain as she kept glancing back and forth, before shaking her head and pulling her out of the shocked stupor.

“You – you’re Ancunins?” She had to ask. Had to make sure she hadn’t overheard them or maybe hallucinating because of the powder she’d inhaled.

“Yes.” The woman nodded, brushing tears from under her eyes. “Our son has been missing for more than two hundred years, and we almost lost hope until… until we heard about you and your company a few years back. How one of the party members resembled our little Star so much.”

They hadn’t been inconspicuous, though they had tried, so it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise that tales of their adventures had gone far and wide, especially after saving Baldur’s Gate, killing Cazador and the absolute, and Gods know how many other evils along the way. But she never thought Astarion’s parents would have heard of it.

In fact, Astarion had barely even mentioned them over the years, and, for whatever reason, Y/N had concluded they must have passed, despite knowing elves lived extremely long lives. Had he maybe tried to find them on his own and couldn’t? Or had he forgotten about them?

Until Astarion and Y/N had become an official couple and she’d commissioned a portrait of him as a gift on an anniversary, he hadn’t even seen himself in two centuries. He’d forgotten what he looked like. It didn’t seem too crazy to assume, the memories of his parents’ names or their faces, might’ve slipped away as well, or even the love they had for him. Especially knowing how deeply Cazador had ruined that notion for him.

She needed to get home. She needed to see Astarion, and then she could figure out what to do.

“I need to go.” Y/N nodded to herself, muttering under her breath. “I need to think.”

“No, please!” the woman lunged, trying to grasp at her, but she had a knife pointed at her chest in an instant, making the elf shrivel back, but still, she pleaded. “Please help us. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate! If you can’t help, who will?”

“I promise I will do my best,” Y/N said. “But I need time… I – I need to figure all of this out.”

Her mind was swirling like a hurricane, but the man interrupted her breakdown as she realised how pretty much her in-laws, had kidnapped her. “At least tell us this – is – is it true he is alive? Or have we travelled across Faerun under the pretences of false hope?”

In truth, Y/N wanted to take them by the arms and drag them to her house, but whether Astarion wanted to reach out and reconnect, was up to him. That sort of a choice was not hers to make, but she could grant them this one request.

“He is.” Y/N nodded.

And then she left as quickly as she could because if she had to stand there and watch as the elves crumbled into one another, cries of relief and joy escaping into the slowly setting day, she would crumble too. Their faces were already permanently burned into her mind, and she needed a moment to process everything.

By a stroke of luck or fate, Y/N instantly recognised she was in the woods on the other side of Baldur’s Gate, so retracing her steps to the market was fairly easy even though the whole way back home, she was pretty much stumbling around in a daze, knocking into people and tripping over her own two legs.

Her discarded basket was right where she’d left it, gold coins scattered around it. The pouch must’ve broken during the struggle. Y/N made sure to pick every single piece up and was more than relieved to see, that the rose bloom was still intact.

By the time she arrived, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, and as the last rays warmed her back, she extended her palm to open the door, though she didn’t even get to touch the handle as it was ripped open by a visibly distressed Astarion.

His eyes looked like he’d been crying, his hair as if he’d been relentlessly raking his fingers through the locks and his lower lip so bitten, there was a small hole where one of his incisors had gone through.

“Oh, thank the Gods!” Astairon instantly grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her in a bone-crushing hug, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. “Thank the Gods!”

Y/N dropped the basket over the threshold and closed the door with her foot, her own arms weaving around his middle, a palm soothingly brushing along his side, as he soaked her in.

“I’m alright, Star,” she said, kissing his temple and didn’t even make a noise as he gripped her waist tighter, right where bruises were forming. “I’m sorry I was gone so long, but I’m alright.”

“What happened? You said you’d be quick, but you were gone for hours! And you know what the worst part was – I couldn’t even go out looking for you because of the damned fucking sun!” Astarion cupped her face, turning it this way and that way, trying to find any injuries, but the biggest one would be in her head as she tried to figure out how to explain to him what had happened. “Gods, I am never letting you out of my sight again!”

Y/N indulged the vampire in the hug he pulled her in, holding him against her chest, trying to comfort him, but she was way too consumed with her new findings. Too quickly, as evident by the frown on Astarion’s face, she untangled herself from the embrace, anxiety immediately flashing over his handsome features.

She slid her arms from around his waist to take his palms into hers. “I – I don’t even know how to say this… How do you say something like that?”

Worry instantly marred his brow, and Y/N pressed a practised thumb between them, trying to soothe them away.

“Shit…” he muttered. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No!” She cupped his cheeks. “Astarion you’ve done nothing!”

“Then – then what?” He was tentative, still, scared Y/N might be angry at him. Or worse – wanted to leave, but her next words erased all that doubt.

“I…” She took in a deep breath. “Astarion, I met your parents today.”

Whatever he had expected, clearly that hadn’t been it. Probably a confession she’d met a past love, that their feelings were reignited and she wanted to go with them. But definitely not that.

He blinked once, twice, trice, completely and utterly stupefied before a small whisper of “What?” passed his lips.

“It’s why I’m so late,” Y/N explained. “They’d heard a rumour, that I knew you and had travelled with you during our tadpole situation, and came to me. Astarion, your parents are looking for you…”

A million thoughts seemed to swirl in his head, but Y/N held onto his hand through all of them.

“What,” he cleared his throat, “what did you tell them?”

“That I’d find them once I figured out what to do?”

“Which means?”

“Which means I would come home, give you this information and let you figure out what you’d like to do…”

So many emotions flashed across his face, but Y/N no longer needed that mind flayer tadpole connection it created – Astarion was an open book for her to read.

Joy. Such indisputable joy shone in his scarlet eyes before being consumed by confusion. Then anger and disgust and love, but by the end of it all his heart settled on one feeling – fear.

It’s what it knew best, though Y/N had tried her hardest to reduce it to ashes, yet still it lingered. She understood it, despite not being happy he ever had to feel it.

He feared what to do, what would be the right choice to make, he feared their reactions and what they would say of his disappearance or of his newest… condition. Would they accept him? Or would they be repulsed by him?

“What – what would I even say to them?” Astarion searched her Y/E/C eyes as if they held an answer, but when one magically didn’t appear, he hung his head, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I can’t even remember what they looked like. Their names, the house we used to live in… it’s all a fog.”

Y/N tried to give him an encouraging smile. “Well, your mother – she has the most beautiful green eyes. Like that dress you made for me for Summer Solstice, that same shade. And – and she has a little beauty mark on her cheek.” With a gentle thumb, she brushed over the mole. “Right in that same spot.”

His brows furrowed in concentration; his lips pinched tightly. “I – I remember blue eyes. Not green.”

“That might be your father's. His are azure I’d say. Like the summer sky. Gods, Astarion,” Y/N breathed out. “You look so much like them, but… honestly, the only thing you need to know right now is that they looked relieved.” Her voice was soothing as he tried to find lies in her words, but there would be none. “I didn’t tell them anything apart from the fact that you’re alive, and all I saw was complete and utter relief.”

Y/N placed a strand of hair behind his ear as he pondered. His carmine eyes slid to hers. “Do they want to see me?”

“Yes. It was the whole reason they sought me out because I might have a single scrap of information on you.” She’d mention the kidnapping later. Or maybe never, depending on how everything went. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

“Is it,” he hesitated, as if ashamed to be asking such a question. “Is it alright if I think this over for a bit? I’m just – there’s so much going on in my head…”

“Of course, Star!” Y/N cupped his cheeks and placed a reassuring kiss on his forehead. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, his shoulders dropping, but she just shook her head.

“Nothing to thank me for. Not for this.”

And so, they continued on like that for a few days – Y/N didn’t bring the subject up, but she made sure Astarion knew, she’d be there whenever he needed to talk. Yet her mind couldn’t help but worry about the two elves in that little cottage on the other side of the town. How horrid it must be to wait for an answer that might never come, but her love was her first and only priority. When he decided it would be time, she’d support him no matter what.

It was a week after the revelation (and subsequent freakout on Astarion’s part when Y/N had removed her clothes before him, and he saw the raw skin and bruises on her ribs. She spent the whole night convincing him it was fine and talking him down from hunting the mercenary and bleeding him dry. She didn’t mention it had been his parents who’d hired him but rather said it had been an unfortunate coincidence), when Astarion awoke with a certain determination, shaking her awake.

She swatted at him like an insect buzzing by her ear. “Leave me be, you blood-sucking, elf!” Y/N grumbled, burying herself under the duvet. “It’s too early. And stop hogging the covers!”

She was just about to elbow him in the ribs if he didn’t let her sleep more, but what he said was like cold ice being poured over her, waking her up completely.

“I think I want to see my parents.”

Y/N was sat in a second. The sheet dropped down, exposing her naked chest, but she didn’t even feel the chilly air biting at her skin, even though Astarion’s gaze immediately dropped down to her breasts, eyes blazing with want.

Rolling her own eyes, she pulled the cover so that it obscured her indecency. Though it was his favourite outfit of hers, they needed to focus on the important things. “Are you sure? You can take all the time you need. There is no rush to this, and it’s a huge decision to make.”

“I’m sure,” Astarion sighed, running a hand through his moon-white locks and dropping back onto the pillows. “It’s pretty much all I’ve been thinking about.”

Y/N worried her lip before sliding back down next to him, letting him wrap his arms around her body. She knew in moments like these, Astarion needed reassurance, and he craved being close to her. Holding her grounded him, and made his scattered thoughts into something solid.

She kissed right above where his heart lay. “If, you’re sure.”

“I am… I just… Will you be there?” Astarion looked down at her.

The woman gave him a smile. “Nowhere I’d rather be than by your side.”

Gently, he brushed a finger against her cheekbone and leaned to kiss her, thankful he’d found someone to walk the world with, especially during the moments he feared he might break.

The day before they’d decided on meeting, Y/N ventured out to the cabin to inform the elven couple of Astarion’s decision. Once they’d seen her walking up through the window, they were out before she even managed to get to the door, faces full of hope.

“Astarion, he wants to come and see you, but there are some… conditions…”

His mother’s brow furrowed, the grimace so familiar it sent a pang through Y/N’s heart, but she swallowed it. “Whatever he needs. Whatever you both need. Anything for our little Star.”

“So… please just don’t question this, but umm… physical contact – I know I can’t possibly understand how you feel, but let him come to you first. It might not make sense, but it’s important that he is the one to make that step.”

“Of course,” Astarion's father nodded, his mother eagerly agreeing.

“And umm… he’ll be different. He might not look like the elf you remember him being. The world wasn’t kind to him for a long time… Please don’t mention this.”

Pain flashed across their faces at her words. They must have assumed something horrible had happened to him, but to have it confirmed was a different kind of agony. But as Y/N had asked – they didn’t question, simply nodded, holding onto one another a bit tighter.

“Alright.” Her heart was somewhat settled. “Thank you. We – uh- we’ll see you later tonight then.”

And with that, she left only to find Astarion pacing the inside of their hallway upon her return.

“Is it sundown already?” He snapped his neck to her as she removed her cloak, visibly upset when Y/N shook her head.

“A couple more hours, I’m afraid,” she said, taking his hand and kissing his palm, placing it against her cheek. “Please stop worrying. It will all be alright.”

“But what if I’m making a mistake?”

She raised her brow. “Do you think you’re making a mistake?”

“N-no?” Astarion huffed. “I don’t know. I know I want to see them at least once, but what if it’s best to leave the past in the past? Why torture myself and exhume it, so to speak?”

“You can leave it all behind if that’s what you wish. But, Star, you also have the rarest of opportunities people get – a second chance.” She stepped close to him, pulling his head down by the nape of his neck so they could rest their foreheads against one another. “But you can always leave. You can always say “no.” And if someone doesn’t get that, no matter who they might be, I will gut them navel to throat.”

Astarion chuckled, brushing his nose against hers. “My knight in bloody armour, always ready to ride into battle for me.”

Y/N pecked his lips in response. “As long as I get my kisses at the end of it – without a second to spare.”

They spent the couple of hours waiting until the sun went down cleaning up around the house and then it was time to go.

As Astarion took a deep breath before closing the door, Y/N squeezed his hand. “We can turn back whenever you want to.”

But he seemed determined, only giving her a reassuring smile and twining their fingers together, her hand in his solid hold.

They walked slowly, enjoying the warm night gracing Baldur’s Gate, and soon enough they were through the city and past the woods, a small log cabin coming into view.

He stopped them a few feet away, taking in a moment to gather his thoughts and emotions.

Y/N glanced at him encouragingly. “Are you ready, Star?”

Astarion took in a deep breath, held it in for a moment and then exhaled, nodding. With this confirmation, she released his hand and ventured to the door, gently rapping her knuckles against it, immediately returning to stand beside her lover.

Instantly his palm was back into hers, as if he needed her to ground him, reassure him everything would be alright as nervous energy coursed through his veins while they waited for the inhabitants to come and see them. And though it was probably no more than ten seconds since she’d knocked, it felt like time had stood still. Once the doors opened, even nature quieted down.

The breeze shushed the tweeting birds and seemingly even the worms digging underground stopped their burrowing as finally, after two hundred years, the lost Ancunin son returned.

They stood like that for what seemed like ages, just taking one another in, before a small sob of Astarion’s name from his mother’s lips broke the spellbound silence.

It’s when he rushed for her, the elf already on her feet, meeting him halfway. Her arms wrapped tight around his body, hands smoothing down the back of his head as all the while she kept whispering “My Star, my little Star, you’re home.”

Y/N was on standby, ready to rip her away if Astarion became overwhelmed. She’d asked them to allow him to be the one to make the first step, and they had, but with such all-encompassing feelings, she just wanted him to be safe.

Though all that anxiety dissipated like ice under the blazing hear of the sun when Astarion practically melted against his mother, his fingers digging into her shoulders and back as if he never wished to be let go, both of them crumbling to their knees, still in each other’s embrace.

Tears welled along Y/N’s bottom lashes and when his father joined them, wrapping his arms around his family, they fell like rain on an autumn evening. She had to press a hand against her mouth to not sob out loud, but it didn’t seem like anyone would care, as Y/N noted Astarion’s shoulders shaking while his mother and father were freely crying, all the while touching and caressing his face, trying to ingrain the memory of having their son back in their arms.

She couldn’t imagine that feeling, didn’t ever want to, of finally being reunited with a family which you were so brutally ripped away from. Y/N almost wanted to resurrect Cazador, just so she could drive a stake through his heart again, but that might’ve been a bit too morbid of a thought in such a tender moment.

“You’re home.” His mother pulled back, cupping Astarion’s cheeks and smiling from ear to ear. “Our little Star is back home.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he choked out, but his father shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re here. That’s enough for us.”

Y/N watched as he took in the people who’d searched for him relentlessly. He never knew they’d never given up. She wondered if there would be a time, he’d believe he was worth all it. She certainly hoped so.

“Thank you,” the elf with eyes like jade said, snapping her eyes towards Y/N. “You have no idea what kind of a gift you’ve bestowed upon us. We will never be able to repay you.”

She could only wave them off, a knot in her throat. “You owe me nothing. Seeing this – this is enough for me. I’ll – uh – I’ll leave you to it then.”

Just as she was about to turn around, Astarion jumped to his feet, untangling himself from the limbs of his parents, eyes full of concern. “What? Why? What’s wrong?” He was by her side in an instant, pulling her hand to rest against his chest.

“Nothing!” Y/N shook her head. “I just – I just think maybe I should take my leave. I can be back in a few hours if you’d like, but this just all seems like – like a private family reunion.”

Astarion scoffed, his free arm weaving around her waist, completely offended. “And what exactly do you think you are to me if not family, my love? Arguably, you might be the most important part of it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that -,”

“Hush now!” he scolded her. “You promised to be by my side through everything. Are you breaking that promise?”

“No, I just,” she stammered. “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave you to it? This just feels awfully personal.”

“My love, you are the keeper of my heart. You are my true home.” Astarion cupped her cheek, resting his brow against hers, chest against chest, not caring who might see. “Without you, none of this would have happened. I could still be on that beach with a mind flayer tadpole wriggling behind my eye.” He took her hand, and kissed her knuckles, sighing as they brushed against his jaw. “I don’t want to do this without you. I want to relearn who my parents are, and I want them to get to know me, but a non-negotiable part of that is you. That is if it’s alright with you?”

A tear slipped down her cheek, as she looked deep into those ruby eyes that once held nothing but fear and pain, only to now show love and compassion and happiness. When she smiled, her grin could have rivalled the sun itself. “I’d be honoured.”

When they glanced at the two elves by the threshold of the house, they noted the horrified looks on their faces. Astarion’s guard was immediately up, but his mother beat him to it.

“My Star, I am so sorry!” She put a hand over her mouth. “We swear we didn’t know you two were lovers! We just...” She glanced at her husband in desperation, but it seemed the little scene they’d put on had rendered him speechless. “Had we known, we would have never…”

Astarion squinted at her, a dangerous note appearing in his voice. “Never would have what?”

“Oh Gods, we had your partner kidnapped,” his father finally got out, eyes only widening in more shock as it settled that Y/N wasn’t just a travelling companion or a friend, but just what she really meant to Astarion.

“You did what?!” His head snapped to Y/N who now retreated to stand between the two shocked elves, and her quite furious boyfriend.

“Astarion, it’s alright,” she tried to calm him down. “They didn’t know! Besides, I heard them arguing with that mercenary. They didn’t hurt me. In fact, I,” she let out a nervous chuckle, “I held a knife to your mother’s throat. So, call it even and let’s move past it?”

His gaze was hot like the flames, as it burned into her. “We will discuss this later.” He pointed an accusatory finger at her before taking a deep breath and exhaling. “This is absolutely not how I ever imagined a family reunion to go, let alone the introduction of my partner.”

Y/N’s shoulders dropped as he broke the settled tension, but something in his eyes told her she’d pay for her omissions. And oh, how delicious that punishment would be.

His mother still seemed to be all nerves as she invited them inside, spouting apologies in Y/N’s direction, but when she took the elf's hand in hers and gave a comforting embrace, she relaxed a little. “Let’s let the bygones be bygones.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she smiled, and wrinkles of age and time appeared around her eyes.

It was awkward at first, two centuries of hurt laying between them, two centuries of torture on Astarion’s end, of lost love and people, but slowly they opened up. And when his mother mentioned how he always used to bury his nose into strawberry fields, because it reminded him of his mother’s hair care products, it was like a damn had been opened.

The memories were still there, buried under layers of pain and horrors, but there. Maybe a little jumbled up and out of sorts, but with every hour spent together, locks were being broken and a light long lost lit up again.

Astarion had changed, but so had his parents. He let them know of his adventures, how he met Y/N and how she had turned his world upside down but abstained from the more gruesome parts. He wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Maybe not ever, but if he so wished, she knew his parents would be there to listen and welcome his vulnerably with open arms.

An hour before the sun resumed its place in the sky, Y/N nudged Astarion, telling him it was time to leave. She had little doubt in her mind, his parents had caught onto what he was, even if they hadn’t mentioned Cazador. If not for the shape of his elongated canines, or the colour of his eyes, which Y/N had found out had been a beautiful shade of pale green, then because of the brutal scars on his neck. But they still pulled him into a hug with such vigour, it was like they feared they’d never see him again, which was probably a thought always haunting their minds.

“Would – would you like to come over to ours?” Astarion asked, still holding onto his mother’s hands. “It’s a bit of a mess, our place, but if you come after the sun’s down, I’m sure we can have it proper enough to take on guests.”

It was an odd request, but thankfully, neither his mother nor father said anything about the specific time request, simply hugged him once more and promised to be by their door the second the sun dipped, wine and lemon cakes in hand.

As they waved their goodbyes, Astarion slipped his palm into Y/N’s and made sure they walked all the way back like that. Once behind a closed door, he pulled her into his chest relishing in the way their bodies melded together – two puzzle pieces finally connecting and forming the most magnificent picture to exist.

“What is it like to be finally home?” Y/N asked as he swayed them to a tune only, he heard.

Astarion shook his head, pulling slightly back so he could cup her jaw. “My love, I have been home for a long time now. I’ve been safe and cared for, all thanks to you.” His eyes were so full of love and adoration, she almost choked on a breath. “Now… now it just feels complete. So thank you… thank you for being my home,” he muttered that little confession against her skin, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for keeping me safe.”

“Always, my love.” Y/N didn’t hide the tears rolling down her face and he brushed them away with a soft thumb. “Always.”

When their gazes locked, all she could see was excitement for what the new day had to offer, and she knew whatever was in store, as long as they were by one another’s side, there was nothing they couldn’t overcome.

But for all that, there was an important thing she was unaware of.

As Y/N entered their living room, talking to herself and making a list of what they had to do before his parents arrived, Astarion stood and watched her, leaning against the doorframe, all the while his hands rested in his pocket, where in one of them, a beautiful ring was being twirled between his fingers.

Before they’d left, his mother had slyly pulled it off her own hand, pressing it into his palm, and whispering to him while hugging that she didn’t want to see Y/N without it the next time around.

Astarion had no intention of living his life without Y/N as his fiancé for a second longer.

When she turned around to find him on one knee, he didn’t even get to ask the question before she responded with a shout of “Yes!” and jumped on him, pulling him into a kiss he swore breathed life into his still chest.

He couldn’t wait to reintroduce Y/N to his parents as his intended.

Now all was as it should be. He was finally home. And somewhere in the garden, a rose bloomed in full.

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: This idea was inspired by that one post of a painting Astarion's parents probably had of him, but had put away somewhere just so they didn't have to look a the son they lost, so I rectified it (Link to the inspo pic :) :( Now they have a portrait of Astarion and his love right above their fire place :)

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don't plagiarise or repost on other platforms.

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unactive-shroom · 1 year ago

Text

Sal Fisher hates summer.

He hates the gross humidity that manifests under his prosthetic, he hates wearing short sleeves and having his scars on display, not that anyone’s really looking, though. They’re always far too focused on his face.

Except for her. There’s always been something so different about y/n from the moment Larry introduced her to Sal.

“Nice prosthetic” was the first two words she said to him, flashing him a huge grin. Without realising, Sal had already begun the usual “it’s actually a prosthetic” before he caught on to what she had said.

“Oh. How did you know? Did Larry tell you?”

“Actually, my dad had a prosthetic eye, and used to work at the hospital where they fitted them, as well as other prosthetics. I used to work there during the summer, before…”

She had trailed off, looking thoughtful, and slightly sad. Larry was quick to revive the conversation about how y/n had worked part time in so many odd places, including a power plant, a pen factory and a fancy lake resort near Nockfell , which was where they were now.

Y/n was sitting beside Sal on the beach towel, facing her head towards the sun and trying to catch her breath after returning from the lake where Larry, Ashley, Todd and Neil were swimming and chatting loudly.

After a few minutes, she turned to face Sal. “You sure you don’t want to swim? Even just for a bit?”

He shook his head, muttering something about getting his prosthetic damaged by the water.

“Well, okay then. I’ll keep you company.”

Despite Sal adamantly saying that he was fine on his own, and besides, watching Larry try swim is enough entertainment as is, y/n dutifully stayed beside him and read her book, occasionally talking to Sal about something school or ghost related.

Sal Fisher hates summer.

But maybe just a bit less when she’s around.

Note:

Short and sweet, I’ll probably edit this later on but I had to finish it . Possible part two, I kinda want to make this a series. Requests open, btw <3

#sal fisher x reader #sally face x y/n #sal fisher x y/n #Sally face x reader #Sally face #Sal Fisher

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weird-an · 9 months ago

Text

Of course Prince Harrington is just another brat. Brought up spoiled rotten and without ever touching the dirt and blood the real world outside of palaces and lush gardens has to offer.

"I don't know why my father thinks you have to protect me," he bitches. "And can we call it a fucking day? It's already pretty dark and we'll reach Hawkins tomorrow."

Billy rolls his eyes. As if the Prince is able to fight what lurks behind the trees. He has probably never seen a spider monster or Demodog. Billy has the scars to prove that reality hurts.

It's not his usual work. Escorting royalty.

Billy is a mercenary. A sword you can buy, a tool to use if you've got enough coin. He knows most people hate him or are scared of him, most people think of him as scum except when they need him.

But apparently a lot of the Kingsguard were killed by the Demogorgon. Desperate times, even for rich people, but at least the pay is good.

"C'mon, it's time for dinner," Harrington says again. It's a luxury to have regular meals, but he doesn't know that. For him it's normal.

Camaro neighs as if to agree. What a traitor.

Billy wishes he'd already have enough coin to leave for California, to finally see the ocean again. But no, he's still stuck in Indiana doing whatever contract he can find, after Neil fucked him over and took most of his money.

Camaro stops at a clearing. Billy hears water running nearby. He sighs. If his horse agrees with the Prince, it's probably time to stop.

He slips Camaro half of the carrot, the last piece of food he has on himself. He's getting paid once they arrive in Hawkins. Times are tough, so Camaro and him eat the same shit. Doesn't matter as long as he gets to leave some day.

He starts to make a fire. Doesn't want Harrington to moan about getting cold next.

When the flames begin to shine bright and orange, eating their way through the wood, the darkness of the night is already surrounding them.

Harrington points at the log of wood he's sitting on.

Billy chews on the carrot and stares at the Prince.

"Do you want some cheese?" Harrington asks. He digs through his bag, pulling out different cheeses, a loaf of bread and a few dried meats.

The few noblemen Billy escorted in the past never asked. Never shared. Didn't even talk to him, if it wasn't necessary.

Billy raises a brow. Maybe this is a joke? Like when he was little and Neil showed him his dinner and fed it to the pigs instead to Billy.

"It's r'ly g'd," Harrington says, cheeks already stuffed full. He holds out a piece of bread.

Billy's stomach growls. Fuck it. He takes the bread and sits down next to Harrington. He's wearing expensive fabrics underneath his masterfully crafted coat. Billy's own armor is covered in scratches and dents.

He groans. The bread is delicious. Harrington shares everything with him. The cheese is strong, melting on his tongue. He hasn't realized how hungry he had been.

"Thanks," he mumbles.

"I don't know how you do it," Harrington says. "The whole day on horseback. My ass is so sore! What about yours?"

Billy fights back a laugh. The last time his ass hurt was after a visit to Heather's brothel. She knows his preferences and stayed silent, sending her hottest men to his room whenever he's in town.

"You get used to it." It's not really a lie. The riding Billy got used to. The loneliness? Not really. He's glad he's got Camaro. Better a horse as a friend than none.

"A toast to your firm ass then." Harrington grins at him, eyes twinkling. He hands Billy a wineskin.

He's pretty, Billy thinks. Big brown eyes, fluffy hair. He wonders if it feels as soft as it looks. Probably, with the fancy soap he smells like.

"Cheers." He takes a sip from the wine. It's better not to think about it. This is just a job after all.

Harrington's knee bumps against his. He doesn't move away.

When they lay down on the bedrolls, Billy listens to the cackling fire and watches the stars shining bright above him.

"I'm cold," Harrington groans.

Billy knows he shouldn't. No fucking way the Prince is cold. His blanket must be way better material than Billy's.

"Come over then," he hears himself say.

Harrington doesn't hesitate. Suddenly warm arms are around Billy's chest. The Prince's breath ghosts over his ear.

Billy turns his face around. Harrington's lips are right there, soft and hot against his own.

Maybe it's not the worst job he has ever taken.

#come on guys #prince harrington #i mean #they both know their way around a sword #camaro the horse can you see it #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #harringrove ficlet #steve x billy #tw food issues #tw child abuse

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soullust · 6 months ago

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my miscellaneous dps headcanons (including some background characters)

neil

has HORRIBLE eyesight. like wayy worse that meeks but he hates wearing his glasses

loves scavenger hunts

charlie helped him realize he's gay (they made out once to 'check' but never had any actual feelings for eachother)

is diabetic but doesn't know it

todd

is so incredibly competitive it's ridiculous. he'll die before he loses a bet

selectively mute

gets his poetry / writing published at least twice. the first time was even before he turned 18

scrunches his nose when smiling

not a morning person. he's dead until noon

knox

is a huge gossip and his grandma's favorite bc of it

can't lie to save his life

loves horseback riding

can't cook. at all. like he burns water

charlie

loves spicy foods and smells

his parents mostly ignored him and his younger sister during their childhood and basically raised his sister himself

but it also gave him a lot of freedom, especially during holidays and school breaks, since his parents always either pawned him off to family or just didn't care where he was 90% of the time.

like, really, they only care about appearances so they get on his back about being disrespectful every once in a while and ignore him the rest that's one of the reasons he acts out all the time he desperately craves attention he never got

tina INSISTS on doing his make-up everytime they hang out. he likes make-up and she's pretty good, so he just lets her

meeks

like todd, he's very competitive, but, unlike todd, he's not a sore loser

has a huge sweet tooth smells like it

was obsessed with nordic mythology in middleschool

matthew ("spaz") was his childhood bestfriend, but they grew apart over the years

is allergic to bees. somehow never remembers to take his epipen anywhere. it's a miracle he's survived this long

pitts

he's a car guy. wants to be a car mechanic

had a crush on neil in like 6th grade

scared of birds

has a stutter and used to have a lisp

gamer boi

not exactly a hc but yall can we acknowledge how sarcastic and bitchy he is??? he's hilarious

knows how to sew

gives the best hugs

cameron

once got arrested and had to call charlie to bail him out. charlie was so proud he bought him ice cream on their way back

has lexical-gustatory synesthesia

his bio dad is dead and he hates his step-father with a passion

is besties with gloria and she finds him hillarious

other

mr keating used to work as a line cook in his teens. also he was a lot like charlie during his highschool years (chaotic & funny)

chris used to do ballet as a kid, but has moved on to cheerleading and gymnastics. her parents are divorced. she lives with her mother and younger half-brother

ginny really should be wearing glasses but she hates them and her parents refuse to buy her more flattering frames. she can't swim. people always share their secrets with her bc she seems like she can keep them, but she’s actually a huge gossip

stick has a twin sister. he is nonverbal and communicates thru asl

gloria is training to be a hairdresser

tina can’t walk in heels taller than half an inch

hopkins has a huge crush on cameron

matthew is an origami master

mr mcallister knits in his spare time. he married a chinese woman who, when he met her, didn’t know any english

i take headcanon and one-shot requests btw

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lucyswinter · 9 months ago

Note

request!!! the nightmare trope with cilly. reader wakes up scared in the middle of the night and he comforts her 💖

pairing: cillian murphy x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none! <3

(a/n): thank you so much for the request ml!!!! alsooo new divider!! creds to @/saradika-graphics 💗💗 this was not proofread, but ava got a sneak peak and liked it so lmk if there’s any grammatical errors lol

You let out a sharp breath as you jolt up into a sitting position, dry sobs echoing the walls of your bedroom as you cross your arms and grip the opposite forearm for support. You don’t even notice that you’ve woken Cillian until he made himself known.

“Lovey? What is it?” he asked you worriedly, eyes wide, slowly sitting up and leaning on his arm so that he could see you properly.

“I-I…” you manage to pant out, eyes watering.

“Love, you need to use your words. What’s wrong?” He puts a hand to your cheek and softly strokes your face with his thumb in a comforting rhythm. He always knew exactly what to do to calm you down, even when you didn’t.

“I had um.” You pause to take a nervous gulp, eyes now overflowing enough for a few tears to race down your cheeks, some pooling up around Cillian’s thumb. “I had a nightmare…” a sob punctuates your sentence, prompting Cillian to furrow his brow with worry.

“Ohhh my poor sweet girl” he laughs, his hand moving down to rub your shoulder and pull your head against his chest. “I’m so sorry”

You try to lift your head from his chest. “Cill i’m going to get your shirt all wet with tears” you sniffle, another sob of guilt coming on.

“Shh it’s alright love. I can change later. This is about you right now. I’ll be fine.” He pulls you back on his chest and continues rubbing your shoulders. “Now, would you like to talk about what happened, or no? I won’t pressure you, but I’m here if you need me baby.”

You let out a few more soft sobs before wiping your cheeks and lifting your head to look at him. A sense of relief washes over you as soon as you meet his bright blue gaze.

“I just…I was being chased by this monster and he chased me into this house, and when I got into one of the rooms I-“ you’re cut off by a slightly more violent sob, the tears returning your cheeks, your eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to make them stop.

“Shhh take your time, sweet girl. Poor baby.” His lips connect with yours, and linger for a few seconds before he pulls back to give you his attention.

You take a deep breath out and continue to explain to him what happened. “And when I got into this room you were there but…but you were dead” you wail, the tears streaming down your cheeks like a waterfall.

“Oh my sweet caring girl. I’m so sorry you had to think about that. Ohhh poor girl.” He wiped tears from your now puffy eyes to reveal red cheeks. “But I’m here. And I’m not dead, lovey. You don’t need to worry about that.” He places a kiss on your cheek, and begins to rub your shoulders again. “I must say, angel, that sounds an awful lot like the movie we watched tonight…I don’t mean to jump to conclusions, but is there a possibility you got a bit frightened by the movie and that’s why you had this nightmare?”

You nod, ashamed to admit that a silly movie scared you.

He let out a soft chuckle, more pitiful than condescending. “Well why don’t we go back to sleep, baby.”

You lie down on your side and snuggle up closer to him so that his chin is above your head. He puts his arms around you and gentle rubs his thumb against your back, causing a tingly sensation to spread through your body in waves, lulling you closer to sleep. Your eyes flutter, and eventually close. You let out a soft sigh, and he leans his lips close to your ear, tickling the sensetive skin with his warm breath.

“No more scary movies for you, sweet angel. I hate seein’ you all scared.” He whispered. “Sleep now, love. Dream sweet things”. He planted a soft kiss on your forehead as you slowly drifted into a peaceful slumber.

(a/n): ty for reading!! next up is a neil lewis oneshot and a hotch oneshot!! <33

#cillian murphy x f!reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #cillian fic #cillian fluff #cillian fanfic #lucywrites<3

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intothedysphoria · 7 months ago

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Steve was meant to be working on his confidence. Billy wasn’t helping.

Autistic skill regression had hit him pretty hard after he broke up with Nancy and what had used to be Steve just being a usual dumb jock with a social life landed him slap bang into special ed. Because he’d traded in a stealth hate watching Kalvin Garrah life of parties, hookups where he never really took his clothes off and being King Steve, to not even being able to leave his house and struggling to talk.

Billy was meant to be a social coach, whatever that meant and get him back on his feet so that he’d actually be able to go to college without having a mental breakdown. What Billy was actually doing was making Steve freak the fuck out.

He was remarkably academic, a straight A student who mouthed off just enough teachers to stay popular while helping his single mom with his younger brother Max. He was hot, fit, creative and Steve had to use an aac device to ask for a glass of water.

Even Robin liked him and Robin hated pretty much everyone. That just rubbed salt into the wound of high school hiring a friend for him.

At first, he resisted it as much as humanly possible. Every opportunity he got, Steve would give Billy the slip and crawl back into the janitors closet with his notepad and sketchbook. Then get a lecture from his parents and the principal about it being for his own good. He couldn’t just refuse to talk to people forever.

Steve decided to take that as a personal challenge.

Billy took it all in his stride of course. That was the bit that pissed off Steve the most. He could be the most bitchy King Steve diva and the guy wouldn’t even be phased. Nobody was allowed to be that perfect.

Then Steve found out about Neil. The puzzle pieces started to slot together a little easier after that.

He decided to go a little easier on Billy. Begrudgingly, they got through the worksheet about appropriate responses to the word hello (patronising drawings included) and made it onto the shopping scenario. Billy decided to take a smoke break after that.

They both smoked in silence for five minutes. It was a nice change of pace and god did Billy look hot while smoking. Steve kept that thought to himself.

He got invited to Billy’s house that night. His younger brother opened the door, rolled his eyes and yelled like a banshee until Billy came skidding across the hall, hair still wet from a shower. Probably had a date afterwards as a treat for hanging out with someone as dumb as Steve.

The hangout was mostly sitting on Billy’s bed, laughing at truly horrendous archived Instagram posts until dinner. Billy had actually made him dinner. Mac and cheese.

Steves favourite.

Things were different when Steve came back to school on the Monday. There was an invitation to sit at Billy’s table at lunch, with the cool kids. Steves old friends. He took it.

Steve had really missed Carol. She was great and seemed genuinely excited to have Steve back. Even if he’d gone nonverbal again so couldn’t really talk to her properly.

Billy was absolutely jubilant. Of course it was probably just because he wouldn’t have to be saddled with Steve for much longer, but Steve chose to believe it was because he genuinely wanted Steve to be happy.

The crush had also become rapidly apparent, much to Steve’s dismay. Billy wasn’t doing much good for the matter considering how touchy feely he’d started being. It started out with just shoulder squeezes and a friendly arm across Steve’s shoulder but then they started cuddling. Billy kissing Steve’s cheek. In school. So Steve started doing it back because he certainly wasn’t complaining and hell maybe this was how straight guys acted nowadays.

It was very confusing and looking up why is my friend kissing me just led him to a porn site. But asking why it was happening might have made it stop so Steve just didn’t.

Then Billy asked him to the prom. That was even more confusing.

So Steve did the intelligent thing and asked “like, as bros right?”

Billy appeared to be doing his best impression of a startled horse at that question so Steve made the guess that he may have committed some sort of social faux pas.

Then he very patiently explained that they’d been dating since the day of homemade mac and cheese. That put a lot of things in perspective.

Steve said yes. Billy cried.

Then Steve discovered that a gay makeout beat a “he’s just straight and this is what straight guys do now” makeout by a mile.

This fic is a gift for @dragonflylady77 who is amazing and deserves the world (for any allistics reading unfortunately school assigning you a friend if you’re autistic is a very real experience 💀)

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #trans steve harrington #autistic steve harrington #trans max mayfield

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heartbreak-sandwich · 10 months ago

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Red Letters to Nowhere spicy sneak peek ~ (Stepbro!Billy x Mayfield!Reader) Summary: Tension has been building between you and Billy since you and your little sister, Max, moved in. You never know quite where you stand with him, and you could swear he's flirting with you at least half of the time. It's about time he made his intentions clear...

[No smut, slight NSFW below the cut, 18 +, MDNI as usual ✨]

You had spent the last few hours studying in your room. A lazy Saturday with Max being out with her new friends, your mom and Neil taking another shopping trip to the city, and Billy having weekend practice for the upcoming tournament gave you the house to yourself. You were enjoying the space and freedom, paying bits of attention to the radio droning in the background and making sure you were up to speed for Mrs. Click’s quiz on Monday.

Hearing the familiar sounds of keys jingling, you checked the clock on your bedside table and knew it was Billy returning home from his practice. Your door was open, but he didn’t seem to notice you there as he stalked to his room.

Your doors faced each other at both ends of the hallway with the bathroom in between, so you had an immaculate view when he peeled off his shirt and tossed it to to the ground, the muscles in his back creasing in symmetry as he stretched, his broad shoulders moving in time with his arms as he brought his hands together, clasping his palms and pushing them forward.

You didn’t even realize you were staring, mouth fully agape, taking in the sheen of sweat sprinkled across his golden skin, the dip in his lower back where his waistband sat just below, and the definition in his strong calves as he went through the motions of stretching out his hamstrings, still facing away from you.

You wanted him.

Wasn’t that wrong on some level? Of course you’re not actually related, but what would he think if he knew? Did he know?

You averted your eyes immediately as he dropped his shorts to the floor, covering your mouth and turning to face the other way in your chair. Your entire body tensed as you tried not to make a single sound for fear that he would notice you and put two and two together.

You didn’t look at him naked, at least. That would’ve been too far, and you didn’t want to disrespect Billy, your new step brother, who had been so kind to you despite the reputation he seemed to have with everyone else.

You heard Billy’s bare footsteps padding up the hallway, so you turned back to face his direction once again. Damp, messy curls framed his face, a green towel secured around his waist, and a knowing smirk resting just above his sharp jawline, he shot you a wink before turning into the bathroom and closing the door. Your cheeks seared with panic as you tried to process what you just experienced.

He had to have known you were looking at him. He obviously knew. Did he do that on purpose? You tried your best to refocus on your studies, but it was no use. You heard the sprinkling of the shower in the next room and couldn’t stop fighting with yourself over confronting Billy about what he had just done.

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

You had been busying yourself with folding your laundry while your mind turned the idea of Billy wanting you to see him like that over and over. You had resolved not to address anything with him right now, but to wait it out just to make sure you weren’t imagining things.

You had just moved here, and you didn’t want to make things awkward for the family. You especially didn’t want to get Billy in trouble with Neil. You folded another Van Halen t-shirt and added it to the neat pile of folded shirts on your stripped mattress. You heard the buzzer on the dryer go off, signaling that your sheets were ready for pickup, and you turned toward the doorway.

“Jesus, Billy!” You jumped when you saw Billy leaning on your doorframe wordlessly, his hair dripping tiny water droplets onto his shoulders that hung like dewdrops on his chest, smirk still in place with his towel around his waist. “How long have you been standing there?”

He scoffed and looked toward the ceiling. “Long enough,” he said simply. His eyes met yours, dark with something you couldn’t quite identify, and you felt the scarlet heat creeping back up to your cheeks, forcing you to look at anything else in the room.

“Did you need something?” He took his hand down from the doorframe and stepped closer to you, still blocking the exit to your room.

“Did you?” His voice darkened, and as he neared where you stood, you could see that his pupils were blown out. He was close enough for you to touch him at that point, and you ached for him. You wondered what would happen if –

“Correct me if I’m out of line, Y/N. But I swear you look at me like you want something from me. Am I wrong?” His eyes burned into yours, his gaze never wavering as he asked the most candid question he could without really giving it away. You swallowed hard, unsure of how to answer in a way that wouldn’t get you into trouble if you were somehow misinterpreting things.

“No,” you finally replied sheepishly. “You’re not wrong. But Billy –”

“I thought so,” he murmured, his jaw clenching. You were afraid of his reaction. You couldn’t tell if he was about to fly off the handle, and you could cut the tension in the room with a butter knife. “I notice you watching me, you know,” he continued, his words like suede slathered in melted honey.

“Billy, please. Please don’t tell anyone. I’m not trying to –” He took another step toward you so that your noses were almost touching.

“And you don’t know it, but I watch you, too. I can’t help it. The way you pretend to have your nose in a book on the swing in the front yard, stealing glances at me working on my car. Do you ever wonder why I have my shirt off in October?” He chuckled, looking around the room. You really hadn’t put those pieces together.

“Billy –”

“What if I want something from you, too?” he drawled, his gaze gliding over your lips before meeting your eyes once more. “What if, every night while I’m lying in bed alone in the dark, I’m thinking of your strawberry perfume and the dimples in your cheeks when you try not to smile every time I say some smartass shit? What if I count your curves instead of sheep while I try to sleep?”

His husky voice was barely above a whisper. He looked down and hissed out a small laugh. “You don’t think I notice that you leave your door cracked every time you change your clothes or that I know for a fact you’re wearing a black lace-trimmed bra and matching panties right now?” His tongue trailed over his bottom lip as he eyed you up and down.

You were completely speechless. Your mind was working a million miles a second trying to piece together all of the what-ifs and scenarios that could come of what you two were about to do, and you knew he was waiting for your answer.

“Billy, we can’t –”

“Can’t what? Have fun?” His devilish grin was torture to your core, and you couldn’t help but echo his expression. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” He ghosted his lips over yours while he spoke, and you were immediately intoxicated by the scent of his honey shampoo and the remnants of mint gum.

“Pinky promise?” You held your pinky out for him to take, confident he wouldn’t buy into your childish game, and you were shocked when he held his hand up, dropping his towel to the floor, and hooked his pinky with yours.

“Pinky promise, babe.” He lit up his blinding smile, knowing there was no turning back, and tugged at the hem of your sweater, helping to lift it over your head. “Good thing you haven’t put those nice, clean sheets back on yet,” he teased before connecting his lips with yours, warm, wet, and insatiable.

You had no idea how this would end, but in that moment, neither of you cared. All you knew was no one else would be home for hours, and you both needed what was coming after the last month of agonizing sexual tension, somehow kept a sweet secret between the two of you.

*This is a republish of my original preview because I CANNOT find the old post no matter how hard I try.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #red letters to nowhere #stepbro!billy hargrove #mayfield!reader #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things fanfic #sneak preview #sneak peek

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magniloquent-raven · 5 months ago

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What do you think of an AU where Billy lives post season 3 and gets adopted by Murray and Alexei?

They would probably have a dynamic very similar to the El and Hopper's one in season 2.

What do you think?

OOooo an anon blessing my inbox, hello 💜

I think it would be an absolute mess tbh. At least at first. Because Billy is difficult, and Murray is prickly at the best of times (and not above fighting with children lmao). Alexei might be the least confrontational of them, but he's more likely to get a kick out of all the arguing than try to stop it.

Mostly aimless rambling under the cut lol

I'm thinking no Hopper death fake-out in this AU? He never liked Billy much, despite how polite the kid always was when he got pulled over. Something about him always seemed off. But then he nearly died saving El. She pulls him aside while Billy's in the hospital, and with that serious crease between her eyebrows, tells him just enough to convince him Billy doesn't have a home to go back to. So he makes arrangements.

And like. Murray isn't exactly his first choice. But. He doesn't have a lot of options. He needs someone with the funds and the space to house an entire traumatized teenager, and it needs to be someone who knows what happened to him.

It's temporary, Hopper assures them. The kid's eighteen, he just needs somewhere to stay while he heals up and gets enough money together to get a place of his own. It won't be that much of an imposition. It's the right thing to do. Say yes, because he needs somewhere to go, I swear to god, Murray.

Billy treats Hopper doing him a favour like it's a punishment. He's sullen the whole way there. Silent in the passenger seat of the cruiser, a half-full duffel bag in his lap. He doesn't want to be back in Hawkins with Neil, but that doesn't mean he wants to stay with some creepy guy and his weird Russian roommate. He can take care of himself, and this charity bullshit is fucking insulting.

Thing is though, Billy doesn't outright say that. He doesn't talk that way to adults, as a rule. Neil's rule. He will say please and thank you, no matter how wooden it sounds. He takes his issues out on peers, not the people with power over him.

So he barely says two words to Murray and Alexei that first day. They're not exactly thrilled to have him around, so they're not getting in his business anyways. It's awkward. Billy holes up in the guest room Murray's been using for storage, and alternates between restless sleep and staring at the water-stained ceiling.

It takes three days for Murray to get annoyed at Billy's I'm On My Best Behaviour act. It's insincere as hell, and Murray's always hard pressed not to call people out for lying. So he prods. Under the guise of small talk, at first. He asks how Billy knows Hopper. Asks what he's planning to do once he's healed up more. Mentions that Max has called like four times and Billy has yet to even check the messages.

Which. Does not go over well. Billy knows what he's doing, Neil does it all the time. Asking pointed questions, hoping to get a rise out of him. If Billy reacts he has a reason to punish him. If Billy breaks, he's not strong enough, not good enough. He needs a firmer hand, more discipline. But just because Billy knows doesn't mean he can stop himself from snapping, lashing out, getting angry and defensive and sneering.

And then he braces himself for the fallout. A belt, a hand, an insult. Punishment for not keeping his mouth in check. It's instinct, getting keyed up, waiting, waiting...

For a hit that never comes. In fact, Murray seems relieved. Delighted. "Fucking finally," may have been his exact words.

So Billy's just wound up over nothing, without direction he's snapping at shadows, flinching and biting. But no one seems to mind the teeth.

They argue a lot after that. Billy and Murray. Over music being played too loud, and whether Billy's allowed to drink when he's still got hospital stink on him, and dumb, inconsequential shit like that. Sometimes it's not. Sometimes it's Murray saying too much and Billy tasting blood. Sometimes it's Billy getting pushy and entitled, using his scars as an excuse to take up more space than he was invited to.

Meanwhile Alexei just seems to be along for the ride. Billy teaches him some English swear words (mostly by accident and then definitely on purpose) and Alexei returns the favour. They are both absolute menaces when Murray declares he's going grocery shopping, and they've taken to teaming up about it. Murray is this 🤏 close to kicking Billy out after Billy introduces Alexei to Metallica and discovers that he likes it.

And then there's the gay thing. Like. Murray and Alexei aren't hiding their relationship, they decided it would be too much work and if the kid had a problem with it he could find somewhere else to live. But they're not super obvious either, just. Naturally. So it takes Billy a minute to realize. In his defence, he's got a lot going on.

It's not a huge grand reveal, he just sort of. Notices some things. And then puts the pieces together. And then panics. He spends the entire day after his revelation hiding in the guest room. Panicking.

He doesn't know why exactly it terrifies him so much. He doesn't have to hide from Neil anymore, and barely anyone even knows he's alive, it's not like there's going to be rumours going around about Billy shacking up with some old gay dudes. But he feels exposed anyways. Self-conscious. He starts to wonder if Hopper knew somehow, and that's why he's here. Maybe the girl who was in his head has been going around telling people about him.

The next day, he manages to come out of his room, but he isn't over it. They notice him acting weird, despite how hard he tries to keep it under wraps. Alexei figures it's a PTSD thing, they all know Billy has nightmares. He's entitled to some off days.

But Murray clocks him. Because of course he does. He flinches when Alexei touches Murray's shoulder, briefly, innocently, but Billy has to look away and that's when Murray realizes.

Not the why of it, not at first, but he realizes that Billy's being weird about their relationship. And he doesn't handle it the best. He's started to like the kid, is the thing. Billy's a pain, and he's an awful little brat, but he's grown on him. Like a hissy little cat that never lets you pet it. It's not nice, but sometimes it does cute little cat things and you're endeared anyways. Billy can be funny, sometimes. He helps out around the house but pretends not to. And he's unexpectedly smart.

And now he's being. Like this. And maybe it sort of hurts. So maybe Murray says some things he shouldn't. Pointed comments, from what Murray knows about Neil he's sure that's where this came from, and he doesn't hesitate to let Billy know that. Billy might've moved states to get away from his father but it looks like he might've brought him along for the ride anyways.

Which obviously does not go over well. And it's the way Billy responds, his fear and the cadence of his anger. That has Murray saying "Oh, this is a self-hatred thing." Without thinking.

It's the first time Billy cries in front of them.

It's not for long. A moment of shock, and tears slipping down his cheeks, he's there just long enough for them to see his face before he bolts, and locks himself in the guest room.

They don't ever really talk about that whole conversation. Not outright. It takes weeks for things to go back to normal. Billy's back to not saying much of anything, and Murray feels guilty enough not to push about it. Alexei's trying to mediate, for once, but it doesn't help. Everyone involved is too stubborn to take advice.

Months later, when Billy's a little bit drunk and a little bit sleep deprived, he finally admits out loud that Murray was right. Entirely out of the blue.

They still don't discuss the fight, not directly. They just. Talk. About growing up queer. About parents. It's a little stilted. A little awkward. But it's a turning point. And it's good.

misc. thoughts:

Alexei helped open the new gate and is therefore a little bit responsible for what happened to Billy? When Alexei realizes this he starts coddling Billy to make up for it. It's little things at first, buying him sweets and letting him choose what they watch on TV, but Billy starts to notice him walking on eggshells and gets irritated, pushing to see where this sudden grace will end. He kind of just assumes he's being treated this way because of his injuries, but when he eventually finds out who Alexei actually is and what he did shit kind of blows up. Billy straight up leaves the house for the first time since he moved in. Just walks out. Alexei tells Murray what happened and Murray gets angry at Billy, only realizing later (after Billy comes back, at like 3am) that he was so pissed because he was worried

Hopper has no idea that Murray and Alexei are together, and part of the reason Murray was so annoyed about taking in another stray is because babysitting would cut into the time he can spend with his boyfriend

Everyone in Hawkins (except the main characters) thinks Billy is dead, and this has been really hard for Max. Neil left, and she's glad he's gone, she's glad Billy's away from him and that her mother doesn't have to deal with him anymore. But it's also extremely difficult to watch her mother grieve both Billy and her marriage.

Briefly considered making that thought Billy had about Hopper putting him up with Murray and Alexei because of the gay thing actually true

#billy hargrove #murray bauman #murlexei #stranger things #a raven's writing desk #thank you for sending me this i always love it when people pop by 😊

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stabbyfoxandrew · 3 months ago

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Hey I hope you have a great day! Could I get a snippet of arsonist neil please?

WIP Wednesday (8/7) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 208)

The next afternoon, Andrew finds himself in the middle of a Skype call with Aaron and Nicky over lunch. The two of them let Nicky ramble and show off his goofy dog and its giant paws for a bit before Aaron drops the news on him. And Nicky nearly drops the dog.

“She’s what?! Oh my god. Erik, Aaron’s girlfriend is pregnant!” Nicky shouts into his apartment before turning back around in his chair with a pout. “Oh fuck. He’s not even home yet.”

“So you just deafened your whole building for no reason.”

"Ah, who cares?" Nicky shrugs and sets the puppy in the floor. “Fuck. I can’t believe it. I’m gonna be a grandparent. I’m too young.”

Andrew rolls his eyes at that, but Nicky just points at him through the screen. “What about you, Katelyn-hater? Aren’t you surprised?”

“I don’t hate anyone.” Andrew says, cooly taking a sip of water. “Aaron told me yesterday.”

“YESTERDAY?!” Nicky pouts. “Why didn’t you—”

“Because you’re dramatic.” Andrew says. “Besides, it was late when he told me.”

“How far along is she?” Nicky says, ignoring him.

“We’re not really sure. She made an appointment for, um,” Aaron thinks for a moment. “I can’t remember when. Uh, shit. Soon. And the, uh, doctor will be able to tell us then.”

“You’re going with her, right?”

#andreil #aftg #WIP Wednesday #Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew #🕊️#answered #anon

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ash5monster01 · 6 months ago

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hey i saw that your requests are open and can i request a charlie fic where he realize that all this time his parents blatantly favors his childhood friend (aka a fem!oc) and sister (yes he has a sister in the movie—a super tiny details) and grew to resent them both especially the fem!oc? feel free to ignore if your requests are actually closed or if you feel the idea is way too dark ;;;

p.s.: i love ur new romantics fic so much and we're on the same discord server;)

Turn Back Time

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x OC!FemReader

Warnings: angst, minor depression, emotional abuse, disconnect, mentions of death, personality issues.

Summary: Charlie hated a lot of people in this world but the one he never planned on, was her.

word count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Charlie was used to it. In fact he was used to his parents favoring everyone over him. Friends, Teachers, Aunts, Uncles, hell even Neil. Most of all though was his sister and Iris. The girl next door, only daughter of a successful family that his parents were always trying to keep up with. They always wished he would be more like her, but to him that thought never really occurred. In fact it never even bothered him, especially since he could escape from it all at school. He could be at Welton for months on end with no worry about being the perfect child for once. That is until he was expelled.

Now that he was permanently home he never realized just how long he would be under the criticism of his parents and that it would make it harder and harder not to blame the people they favored more. Everyday it was ‘You should be more like your sister’ or ‘You know Iris is already scouting Ivy Leagues’ and he was beginning to hate it. Nothing he could do would get them to stop and because of all this it had started to put a strain between him and his sister. Worst of all between him and Iris. Iris, the first girl he loved and the only girl he always thought he would. For years all he had ever wanted was her and now when he looked at her, all he could see is an image of something his father wanted him to be. The last thing he ever wanted to do was please his father.

“Hi Charlie” his sister sweetly smiled from her bedroom door. He tried to offer a small smile back but he had just finished mowing the lawn and the sweat that was beaded on his forehead was already beginning to fall.

“Hey Claire” he responded and that’s when she opened her door a touch more to reveal Iris laid upon her bed, magazine pinched between her small fingers as she bounced her leg to the song on the record player.

“Me and Iris are hanging out if you want to join?” Claire offered, clearly excited at the idea of spending time with the brother she never gets to see, but as Charlie looks between them, he struggles to find the desire to spend any time with either of them. If he did his father would just see it as him wasting time. Time he could be using to get back into a good school.

“Thanks but I’m going to take a shower and probably study” he says and neither him or Iris miss the way Claire’s face drops at the denial. Charlie practically begs himself to feel a semblance of guilt but all he sees is a girl his parents would always deem better than him.

“Let us know if you change your mind” Iris says after a beat, sitting up to usher the small girl back inside and leave Charlie to do what he needed.

As soon as the relief of the cool water pounds on Charlie’s back he finds himself stuck in thoughts surrounding the current life he was living. He hadn’t heard from his friends in months, which wasn’t their fault. He had been banned from any phone use, and if he tried to write a letter, his Dad would remove it from the mailbox immediately. He was all alone, he no longer could even enjoy the comfort of his sister. Worst of all he couldn’t enjoy the comfort of Iris. She was once a girl he adored and now he couldn’t even look at her. He couldn’t look at anyone, not even as they all sat and ate dinner that night. All he could do was listen to the praise his parents gave to everyone but him as he pushed his peas around his plate.

Iris watched him from across the table, how he never looked up to meet her eye and she suddenly found herself missing him. She only ever got to see Charlie in the summer but for those short three months every year, he had become important to her. He was different now, he wasn’t as happy or witty. His sarcastic nature had been eliminated completely and worst of all he didn’t look at her with desire anymore and even though Iris had found it annoying before, now she missed it. So later that night, as she sat on her back porch she watched Charlie step out onto his and she decided to say something.

“You’re different” her voice carries out into the night air, startling Charlie as he turned to spot the girl with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, trying to bring himself to admire how beautiful she looked in the moonlight. He knew she did, he just could no longer bring himself to care. He hated that, all these years of loving her and somehow any feeling inside him had died along with Neil.

“It just means that the Charlie I know would never say no to spending time with Claire, let alone me. You won’t even look at me” she argued, a breathy chuckle falling past her lips even though she found nothing about this funny.

“I just-.. I can’t” he says, his excuse weak and coming out in a breath that couldn’t carry. Iris had no sympathy, she no longer understood him.

“I know you went through a hard thing and I know your parents are hard on you, but if you push away everyone who actually does care. Then you’ll have no one” she says with the shake of her head, scoffing into the night air as her eyes scanned the dark back yard. Charlie felt the smallest twinge in his gut but nothing strong enough to make him feel anything.

“Sorta feels like it already” Charlie says and Iris sucks in a sharp breath, not expecting the coldness from her friend. Charlie had a big ego, he was cocky and could be rude, but those were things that made him who he was. Now, he was the shell of something she never understood and her heart broke for the chance they could’ve had.

“We never stopped being on your side” she tells him and Charlie shrugs as he looks up to the night sky. The stars are bright tonight, shining down at him just as he spots orion’s belt.

“My parents already decided you weren’t” and it finally hits Iris exactly why he had been so distant. Something that wasn’t even her choice.

“You know that’s not my fault” she whispers, tears stinging at the back of her eyes. She may have never loved Charlie the way he did her but he was still there. A safety net of someone she always cared about and she always thought that maybe someday they’d have their chance.

“I know, but nothing ever is” he says, mind stuck on all the tragedy he had just endured. How he had tried to express free will only to find out it would backfire on you every time.

“So this is it then? You decide me and Claire are the bad guys and leave us behind forever?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the railing. The distance between the two porches feeling more and more.

“I didn’t want it to be that way” he tells her earnestly and Iris finally feels the tears begin to pool in her eyes as she looked at the brunette boy across from her.

“Will it ever change?” she asks, voice tearful and crushing Charlie’s chest even more and he looks back at the house that holds his parents. Parents he had to live with until they found another school to ship him off to or until college. Parents that will continue to compare him to every person in his life until Charlie wished he was dead. Thing was, Charlie hasn’t entirely lost hope. He had hope that time and distance could change him. Hope could be fleeting but it never meant it wasn’t there.

“I hope so, it’s not like I can turn back time” Charlie says with a pressed smile, knowing just how much he yearned for the ability to go back and change how things had ended up. Change how he felt about her.

“Me too” she says, tears glistening in the porch light as Charlie finally looked at her. Looked at how grown and beautiful she had become.

“You saying I had a chance?” he asks, knowing how many times he had tried to ask her out, tried to make her his own. Just to get denied every time, see the beautiful roll of her eyes and purse of those perfect lips.

“You always did Charlie, I was just waiting until you grew up” she answers honestly and Charlie’s heart clenches, practically begging his brain to stop being so dumb. Two parts of himself torn over what to do when the girl he always loved admitted to wanting him too.

“Don’t count me out just yet, I still have about a year of growing up to do” he tells her and Iris laughs, hands wiping the tears off of her face. Head tipping to the sky and eyeing the big dipper just to make sure no more tears resurfaced.

“Sounds good, we can talk about it in a year and if not then, maybe after college” she agrees and Charlie lightly laughs, a real genuine laugh for the first time since he came home.

“Okay, it’s a deal” he says with a nod and Iris smiles one more time, listening to the cicadas buzz and feeling the cool air around them.

“I miss you” she suddenly whispers and Charlie nods, knowing exactly what she meant.

“I miss me too”

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smutlord-supreme · 2 years ago

Text

SFW König Backstory Headcannons

-He has a German father and Austrian mother.

-His father was a sniper in the German military and died when he was between 6 and 10.

-His mother traveled for work alot so he was raised by his grandmother (mothers mother).

-He was fairly popular up until puberty which hit him like a truck. Then he was bullied mercilessly for his looks.

-He had horrible acne in his teens and still boasts the scar to this day (he was really bad about picking at his skin)

-His growth spurt was rough so he was in alot of pain most of his younger teen years.

-He was a disproportionate teen with big hand and feet and long thin arms.

-He was really into the pokemon trading cards as a kid, but now he collects postcards from the places he visits.

-His grandmother struggled to feed him, something she tried to hide but failed. So he still has pretty bad food anxiety to this day, often eating large portions, escpecially when the food is free.

-Due to his eating habits from childhood he has a bit of a tummy over his abs.

-After he enlisted his grandmother cried for days.

-He goes back for as many holidays as possible, her favorite is Christmas so he makes an effort to go back.

-His Father's family is Catholic but his mother's is Prodestant, so he makes an effort to go to both Christmas services.

-He is not religious himself, but he enjoys the Prodestant service better since he has trouble sitting still.

-During basic training he was so nervous that he didn't speak a word other than, Ja, Neil, Herr, and the various military ranks.

-Everyone thought he was a suck up, so he didn't make any freinds until he joined his first regiment.

-Although he wanted to be a sniper like his father he also understood why he couldn't be one and tried not to let it get him down.

-His hood belonged to his father.

-After joining his first regiment he became a nervous chatter. Often talking about nothing at all.

-Surprisingly everyone liked the chatter. It kept things lively and he became popular again.

-After his first assignment he became more depressed. He wasn't used to people being afraid of him, being bullied and all.

-He broke out of the slump when one of his teammates snuck a little black kitten onto base. It got loose and hid in Königs room, unbeknownst to him. When he woke up the next morning a kitten was asleep on the chair next to his bed, on top of his discarded hood. It wasn't afraid when he picked it up. König decided then and there that if this tiny kitten wasn't afraid of him, he wasn't that bad after all.

-The kitten was named Harold and loved with the team until they were caught a week later. König took the kitten home to his grandmother for Christmas the next day and he still lives there.

-Edit: Fanart of Harold submitted by my roomate

-He goes to counceling every week. His therapists name is Andrea.

-He has a dirty mouth, and is always swearing and cracking jokes under his breath. But his demeanor completely changes is his grandmother is around.

-He has a strained relationship with his mother in adulthood, she doesn't even have his phone number.

-He loves music, things with loud base and emotional lyrics.

-Maybe old school emo?

-He can cook, but only basic German fair. Think fleischsalat, kartoffelsalat (with vinegar and oil, duh), boiled wurst, pfankuchen (and of course Flädlesuppe with the leftovers, his father was Swabian) and the like, nothing fancy.

-His favorite breakfast is fitness-brötchen cold butter, teo hardboiled eggs with salt and teewurst. With water and black coffee to drink.

-He likes to indulge in quarkäallchen if he's out and about early, but he can eat an ungodly ammount of them so he makes sure to buy a roll or something to help fill him up.

-He actually really enjoys window shopping, but clothes in stores rarely fit him. If he has a partner he would most definitely know their size and bring them back clothes.

-He wears all black most of the time, but with the occasional pair of blue jeans or tan cargo pants. Really whatever pants could fit him.

-shoes are even worse, he's probably a size 17-18 in men's shoes (US, I think its like a 16 UK and iver 50 in Europe) He's probably got black new balances for day to day use and then custom workboots.

-He knows how to darn and hem. Making him very popular with his coworkers.

-He hums while he does chores.

Ok I actually do have more but I'm tuckered. Let me know if you want more I guess. I do have plenty of spicier ones so I may post those anyways. Goodnight little people in my phone

#konig #könig #call of duty mw2 #cod headcanons #könig headcanons #cod

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your-nanas-house · 1 year ago

Note

people (me) needs more one shots of neil lewis and raymond leon to stay alive. Anything will be received with total appreciation n.n

For real! Such good characters, love them so much 🍓

In my neighbour's pool

◇ Pairing: Neil Lewis X gn!reader

◇ Warnings: smut, handjob, friends to lovers kind of, illegality, hate

◇ Summary: You're fed up with your neighbor and Neil knows it, so he makes a plan to get back at them and spend the evening with you.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

It was a summer evening, it was hot and your best friend Neil had come to your house to tell you about his day.

He often came to visit you to steal things from your fridge and complain about his love life and the terrible orgasms he could only have while watching porn or sometimes movies.

You didnt mind most of the time, you loved Neil even though he could be quite nerdy and boring sometimes but you appreciate his company— not that evening though.

Your usual focus on him wasnt there, your eyes were glued on the house of your neighbour as you sipped your coke.

"Has Mrs. Bailey still bothered you?" Neil's voice interrupted your thoughts of hate and annoyance; he noticed that you werent actually listen to him since you were doing that humming and short replies that you always did when you werent really following something.

"Yeah, she's been a pain the the ass again. I swear I cant take it anymore, that lady needs to take some calming meds—" you scoffed, gritting slightly your teeth as you remembered what happened that morning

"She even got a fucking new pool in her backyard—" you murmured in anger, glancing at Neil when you noticed the silence.

His light blue eyes were focused on the house as well, his hands on his hip as he thought almost posing

"Why dont we go use that pool of hers? We could do something to take reveage" he suggested before listing options that he saw in a few recent movies he saw at the shop with his coworkers.

You honestly didn't mind the idea but you didn't want to cross the line too much, as not to get in too much troubles. If he would have suggested that a few weeks earlier you wouldn't have agreed but now that you were still extremely pissed at her, you went along with Neil.

Thats how you found yourself in the warm water of your neighbour's pool, wearing your swimsuit just like Neil, your hand stuck in his as you lowered it to free his hard cock.

His tongue kept exploring your mouth as your hand explored his length, squeezing his heavy balls to earn a whimper from his pretty swollen lips.

"You are pretty long, man" you murmured, kissing and nibbling at the tender skin of his neck, focusing on his adam's apple

"And-so-fucking-hard" your murmured as you stroked his cock a few times, taking a small pause at every word.

Neil's face was covered of a soft blush, his eyes were rolling back as his hips kept moving forewards, meeting your movements to fuck your hand faster— he was nearly meowing, letting soft moans and whimpers leave his mouth.

You could feel that he was getting closer and closer to his peak, his muscles flexing against your body, which was pressed against his, his cock throbbing and twitching at every movement of your skilled hand.

Neil came hard, letting out a meowing noise before catching his breath, his icy blue eyes now back open and focused on you

"Fuck that was—" he murmured, ready to praise your hidden skills and kiss you when a noise interrupted the both of you.

A shiver run down your spine when your neighbour walked out in her backyard, holding a bowl of milk and another one with cat's food

"Petunia, my lovely kitty, is that you? Mommy had your food—" the old annoying lady asked, making you hold back a laugh as you fixes quickly Neil's swim trucks— leading him quickly away from there as soon as you realized that the woman had probably heard your best friend's pathetic moans, mistaking them for the whining of one of her 8 cats.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter

#neil lewis x y/n #neil lewis x you #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy #neil lewis cillian murphy #neil lewis smut #neil lewis oneshot #cillian murphy smut

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weird-an · 2 years ago

Text

The first time Billy tries to cook on his own it happens because he's hungry and his dad is at work. His mom hasn't come back yet, it's been a week and he's still waiting for her.

His stomach hurts and he remembers her letting him stir the pots when Neil wasn't home. There is canned soup, but he can't find the opener. Cooking is for girls, his dad says, but he isn't here right now.

So Billy grabs a pot, fills it with water and puts some maccaroni in. He burns his finger on it, when he tries to pour out the water. The maccaroni are too soggy and taste like nothing, but at least he isn't hungry anymore.

The blister on his finger reminds him that he has to look out for himself and by the time its healed he realizes his mom isn't coming back.

When Susan and Max become part of the family, Susan and Neil sometimes go on dates that take way longer than they told them before. Neil loves responsibility, but only for others.

Billy cooks for Max and him these nights. The first time he tries to make chicken, it's a disaster. Argyle laughs at him a day later and asks him if he used any spices. Apparently a ton of salt is too much and not enough at the same time.

Argyle comes over, whenever Billy is sure that Neil and Susan will stay out for at least a few hours more. He brings herbs Billy has never heard of, he shows him how to make picadillo, enchiladas, shows him how a squeezed lime can make everything better. Not only the food, but Billy's whole day.

Billy has his first kiss over a bunch of fish tacos, his lips still tingling from chili and Argyle's warmth. At home, a place where he never thought he'd like to be. But here? In the kitchen? It almost feels like a home.

But then Neil drags him away from California, away from Argyle's smile and tasty dinners. Neil is breathing down his neck and everything is awful.

Billy is stewing in his own misery. Argyle and him break up, more out of desperation than anything and that's just the cherry on top.

Billy is all boiling angers and searing sadness, tries to get on top of Hawkins High, just to forget. When Susan and Neil are gone, he tells Max to get some pizza.

Life is bland and without any flavor.

Steve Harrington and him hang out one day, Billy too tired from learning all about monsters and an Upside Down which is supposed to be even worse than Hawkins.

Harrington tells him he's living off canned food and microwave dinners and maybe it's the beer in his system or Billy's longing to finally cook something again.

Billy digs through Steve's fridge and finds a few veggies and a bit of rice. It's simple, but it's tasty.

Hawkins gets a bit more color and Steve gets even prettier. He comes over more often, drags Steve down to the supermarket and bullies him until his kitchen is always stocked. It's a great outlet. For his sadness, his anger, chopping it into tiny little pieces, throwing it into a pan. It sizzles and grows into his heart beating faster when he looks at Steve. His stomach is full of love after month of starving.

Steve kisses him when Billy has just put a lasagna in the oven and it starts to smell like juicy tomatoes and melted cheese.

Steve's kisses are a great appetizer. Billy wants to simmer in them.

#is anyone interested in steve x billy x argyle #i call it californiasandwich #calisandwich #i like the thought of argyle coming to hawkins and become part of their relationship #i like the thought of billy getting twice the love #harringrove #argyle #billy x steve #billy hargrove #harringrove ficlet #argilly #argyle x billy #billy cooking!!#cali bros

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sinon36 · 7 months ago

Text

Echoes of Salvation: Negotiations (Part II). Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x afab reader

Part I

Warnings: none, really, just some casual fluff and domestic stuff, maybe some grammar error and misspellings.

Enjoy!

The story starts after the dash.

Synopsis:

It’s been five years since the outbreak happened. Five years ago, in London, a terrorist group released a virus in the city center. 24 hours later, people start developing flu-like symptoms. 48 hours later the infected turn into mindless ghouls biting healthy people and spreading the infection. Everything happened so fast. The army came in and tried to contain the outbreak but soon chaos engulfed the whole country. You learn that similar attacks happened all over the world: New York, Beijing, Moscow, Athens, and Tokyo. City by city, the whole world is ending.

You survived thanks to your mid-twenties life crisis that made you move into a cottage house by the lake in Lake District. The land you own is surrounded by thick lush forest that offers perfect cover for the tiny brick house that is your safe haven. With a water source close, off-the-grid energy, and a garden full of plants, fruit trees chickens, and whatnot, you live a comfortable life tucked away, far from the dangers of the cities. You are so far out of reach that in the past years you only saw a handful of infected, survivors that traveled far to escape and distant neighbours that got infected in the towns nearby. You can’t remember the last time you saw another person. But you are used to your loneliness. The end of the world brought only a mild inconvenience, now that you can no longer order things online and watch movies on Netflix or HBO. But with a library full of books, a homestead to keep you active and your Border Collie companion, Bellamy, life is good. Life is peaceful.

One day, while you are out fishing, a masked man, armed to the teeth and carrying a young girl in his arms threatens to kill you if you don’t provide him with medicine for his sick daughter.

Once you get back inside you notice the little girl fast asleep on the couch a peaceful look on her face. Bellamy keeps closely to your side not letting you move without following. The masked brute stands a few paces away at the other end of the sofa, his eyes carefully scanning over his sleeping daughter. Once satisfied that she is comfortable he turns to you and gestures towards the kitchen and for you to follow him. You wait a few seconds and keep a healthy distance once you start following him. Once inside he points at the door and you shut it. You look around searching for a safe place for you to sit now that you’re trapped in here with him. You decide to sit on one of the chairs the one with your back to the wall. Bellamy lays at your feet eyes glued to him.

He leans against the wall opposite from you, arms crossed over his chest. He watches you, studies your face for a while. You try to appear nonchalant at his cold fixating glare, but your hair stands up, goose bumps forming on your skin. He clears his throat ‘I have a few more questions for you’ he says voice just as gruffy as before. ‘Like wise’ you quip from your seated position.

'Have you had run-ins with the infected?'

‘I haven't seen any for the past few months. and even before that they are rare and far in between. And to my knowledge there isn't any other person alive around this area.’ You answer as truthfully as you can.

'You're pretty isolated out here. No neighbours within a decent radius?'

‘Only the Johnsons, Neil and Margaret, they used to live about a half a mile down the lake bank. They were a retired couple.’ You reply a little sad.

'Used to?' he asks intrigued.

'Yeah. They died soon after the infection started spreading' you shudder, the image of Neil coming back to you in full force.

'How did they die?' his head lens to the side as if to take a better look at you.

‘I found Margaret dead in their garage throat ripped out. I'm guessing that Neil got infected when he went to the market in the nearby town. When he got home, he must have turned and killed his wife.’ You fumble with your hands picking at your nails and avoiding his sharp gaze.

'What about the husband? What happened to him?'

You dreaded this question. You take a deep breath to steady your quick heart and face downward in shame. 'I Killed him...' you say after some consideration. 'He attacked me and Bellamy and.... I had to...' you mumble your words not wanting to remember anymore of that terrible day.

He watches you intently, there's no sign of surprise on his face. 'You did what you had to do. There's no need to look shameful.' He seems understanding, but something about his look causes a chill to run down your spine. 'How did you do it?' He adds softly.

'The hatchet. I was out cutting wood for the stove.' you keep mumbling, a distant look on your face as you focus your eyes on spot on the table cloth.

'I see.' He says without any kind of judgment in his tone. You find it hard to look at him at this moment. 'You didn't hesitate.' He adds.

'I did. I acted out in fear more than anything.' you say lowly rubbing the back of your neck trying to rid yourself from the cold sweat taking over you.

He continues to observe you calmly, as if trying to understand you on a more fundamental level.

His expression changes slightly, becoming softer, less intimidating. 'Was it hard? Taking a life?'

'Yes.' You say looking straight into his eyes tone genuine. 'But I'll do it again if I have to.' you admit to him hinting that you are not as weak as he thinks you to be. You did manage to survive all this time alone and it wasn't all luck. You worked hard to build and improve the defence around your house and make it sustainable for a long period.

He notices your determination, and for a brief moment, he seems to respect it. 'I believe that you would, I’m counting on it' he says, voice still low. 'How did you survive on your own for so long?' he changes the subject having made his opinion of you on that matter.

'I learned how to farm. When I first move here six and a half years ago, I bought books on how grow vegetables and some medicinal herbs. Margaret was kind enough to show me how to grow chickens, I have a few in a coup behind the house' you motion with your head in that direction. 'In the back, there is a small plot of land with an orchard. Apples and cherries. I also invested in solar panels. I still have electricity and running water. Though on cloudy days the batteries half charge. I have to keep an eye on consumption.

He nods slowly, taking in the information you have shared with him. He seems to be taking mental notes of your capabilities as a homesteader. He speaks again, ’What did do before shit hit the fan?'

‘I am a licensed architect so it was easy to design everything around here, the doing was the harder part' you say proud of what you managed to achieve.

'An architect', he repeats in a low, amused voice, 'and you chose to live in the middle of nowhere?'

He pauses. 'What made you come this far out?'

'I wanted peace and a quiet place surrounded by nature. Cities were to crowded for my liking. I never felt at home there. But here' you look around you, 'here is perfect.'

You hear him let out a breath, seemingly agreeing with your statement and your choice of location.

He studies you for a few seconds, then says, 'You don’t have anyone else? Family? Parents?'

'No.' the answer is short and a far away look takes over you. that is a story from another time. 'Where did you come from?' you turn the attention on him rather than giving anymore information about yourself.

He hesitates for a moment as if deciding whether or not he should share anything about himself.

'I'm ex-military.' comes the final answer, spoken in his usual blunt manner.

'That much I figured' you nod towards his uniform. 'Is she your daughter?'

He nods without saying anything further. There's a strange tension coming from his body language. He seems to be on high alert. He clears his throat as if he needs a change of subject. 'You said you are an architect?' you raise an eyebrow at that 'Yes, why?'

'Are you any good?' He presses, not beating around the bush and being direct with his question.

'Um... as good as they come, I guess!?' you tell him not trying to appear humble.

'So, what is your specialty? Residential? Commercial? Industrial?' he asks very specific.

'Residencial, but I do have some knowledge of the rest. Why do you ask? You try to understand were the sudden interest in your carrier choices come from.

'Just curious.' He says casually, but something in his eyes suggests that he's interested in finding out more. 'And that cottage you're living in.' he points at your house. 'You designed it?'

'Yes' you say eying him suspiciously. His questions were awfully precise. But once again he changes the direction of your conversation wanting to know more about your house. He asks you about the house, the structure and the layout, how you keep warm, where do you get wood for the fireplace.

'You're pretty self-sufficient.’ He concludes. ‘How often do you have to go out for supplies?' his question catches you by surprise. Ever since you saw the news about the outbreak you haven’t ventured anywhere close to civilization, afraid that you’d encounter infected and be ripped apart.

'I haven't really left the property in the past year. The further I go is the lake for fishing. Most of what I own comes from the time when things were delivered to your door or post office. I used to buy items in bulk.' you shrug, it made more sense to you that way. ‘There was no reason for me to leave. Plus, there is a lot of work to do around here, animals to feed. Which reminds me of something…’ you say fixing him with a hard stare mirroring his own. He waits for you to continue.

'You'll have to pull your weight around here. Food and accommodation are not for free.' You set clear boundaries. You may be kind enough to let them stay, considering the threats he’d flung your way earlier, but you won’t be taking advantage of.

He sighs almost offended by what you said, ' I don't plan on freeloading.' He assures you. 'Good' you intend to hold him to his words. He grunts in acknowledgement before going on to speak, 'I hunt regularly, and I know my way around a gun. I'm capable of offering protection.' He says in a serious tone, almost like a pledge. His military training is showing.

'There is not much fighting to do around here, but I'll keep in mind.' you say with a chuckle. It'll be fun seeing him do household chores. You wonder if he'll keep the mask on while feeding the chickens or picking apples.

'I do have one last question.' He says, suddenly sounding more unsure of how to phrase it. You nod at him to go one whipping the smirk on your face and

'If our partnership is to work…’ he pauses seriousness taking over him like a heavy veil, ‘you will have to abide to my one rule.' You sit up a little straighter, your attention fully on him.

'My girl comes first. In a survival situation, every decision I make will rely on her safety. No negotiation.'

You nod your head in agreement. 'Got it. I'll try my best not to get in your way.' You promise tone filled with sincerity.

'Good.' That seems to conclude the interrogation. He seems to relax a bit, and his demeanour is less hostile than before. He rises to his feet and turns to walk to where his daughter lies on the sofa. You watch as he drops his gun and knife on the table and sits on the armchair guarding the sleeping girl.

You let them settle in while you busy yourself with chores. you go out to feed the livestock you keep, collect any fresh eggs, and tend to your garden. The sky begins to darken, wind picks up. you can faintly hear thunder cracks in the distance. It's going to rain tonight, you muse to yourself. You quickly finish your work outside making your way inside. Once in your living room you notice the absence of masked stranger. He is nowhere in the house. You put down the basket you filled with fresh vegetables on the kitchen table and approach the sofa. The little girl stirs awake and looks curiously at you.

'How are you feeling, darling?' you ask in a warm tone smiling gently at her. The little girl rubs her eyes, trying to get rid of the sleep in them. She then looks up at you once again with her adorable big eyes. ‘A bit tired’ she says before yawning.

'It's understandable, you went through a lot out there. What happened to you?' you ask pointing at her bandaged arm The little girl looks at you for a moment as if thinking what to tell you. 'I got hurt by a bad guy's dog...It bit me.' She tries to sound brave but you hear the quiver in her voice.

'Oh... that's awful. Would you let me take a look at it?' you say softly siting down on the couch next to her. ‘Yeah…’ she nods. She holds out her arm for you to take a look at.

On her arm, you can see the puncture marks. They don't look like a human bite mark and that makes you sigh in relief. They were telling the truth. But what worries you is the yellowish liquid oozing out of it. That and the fever indicate that the wound got infected. 'How long ago did that dog bite you?'

‘About three days ago...’ She says quietly. ‘...It hurts now more than before.’ her soft, innocent eyes are filled with concern, fear and worry. ‘...I feel hot...’ she added. 'Let's clean it and rebandage it, okay?'

'Okay' she says with a small, relieved smile. You fetch a med-kit and some disinfectant and begin to clean the wound. It's a bit irritated from the infection. She seems to be in good spirits despite the pain.

You try to comfort her by keeping her mind occupied with conversation while treating her wound.

'How old are you?' you ask her as you wipe her arm with some alcohol blowing a little over it to ease the burn. 'Nine!' she answers earnestly with a toothy smile as she looks up at you, still enduring the sting of the disinfectant. 'What's your name?' you ask remembering that you haven’t been properly introduced so far. 'Olivia' she says with a soft, cute smile. 'What's your name?'

You tell her. 'I haven't met anyone else with that name before' she says pensively. 'Well, we don't really meet many people anyway. Just infected.' she says with a sad sigh. 'Yeah, me either.'

You finish treating her wound and re-bandage it. A shiver runs through her little body causing her to tremble. ‘Are you cold?’ you ask, reaching your palm to her forehead. She is indeed a little feverish. ‘...A bit.’ She mumbles with a small shiver.

You stand up making your way toward a small closet where you keep some blankets. You pick a fluffy one and hand it to Olivia. 'Here you go, sweety'. She smiles brightly as she accepts the extra layer and buries herself in it. 'I'll go grab some firewood to get a fire started.' You announce heading for the door. Just as you reach for the door handle, the door opens and there stands the tall dark figure of the man, his hands full of firewood. 'Oh...' you say in surprise as you step aside making way for him to enter. Outside rain is pouring. He puts the wood in the fireplace and starts working on the fire. You close the door and watch in silence as he works. In no time a well-built fire heats the small house casting a warm glow from the fireplace. The shadows flicker on his face, the white mask adding a level of horror to the otherwise cozy scene.

‘Thanks,’ The little girl says softly to him, to which he only grunts in acknowledgement.

You quietly make your way to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. Bellamy lays on the kitchen floor quietly supervising the two strangers in your house through the open door. The dinner you had in mind this morning included fish but you were rudely interrupted, so you'll have to settle on chicken with a side of veggies. You work quietly and efficiently, casting a glance once every few minutes in the living room. You see Olivia tiredly saying something to the masked man and him leaning back, the chair reclined, arms crossed in front of his chest, watching you prepare dinner. Soon, everything is ready, and three plates of steaming food lay neatly on the kitchen table. You walk into the living room to invite your involuntary guests to dinner.

The tall man is sitting on the comfortable armchair, the little girl lays on the sofa next to him, propped up by the pillows. As you enter, they quiet down and stare at you. He slowly stands up, holding out a hand to the girl, but she swats at it and raises by herself with a huff. He says nothing and he follows you two the kitchen. For how big he is he his movements are fluid, calm and quiet. You can barely hear his footfalls.

The little girl sits next to her father and digs into her plate burning herself in the process. 'Take it easy, kid.' he gently admonishes her. It's a weird scene seeing him at the other end of your small table, still in full gear watching the two of you eat in silence. Earlier he was threatening to kill you, now he sits in your kitchen hands rested on his knees watching like a hawk and frozen like a statue. You cast a few glances at him wondering if he'll take the mask of to eat but he remains unmoving. Perhaps later when I’m not around you think to yourself.

You try subtly glancing at the masked man, now that you sit in awkward silence. The little girl eats hungrily, she seems to love the food. Her blue eyes are focused on her plate, but you notice that she also seems to sneak in a few glances at her father while she chews. They look at each other as if communicating solely with their eyes. Perhaps they could, after spending so much time together in situations that require keeping quiet and nonverbal communication. You’ve notice so far that he prefers gestures instead of words. Once she’s finished eating the girl turns to look at you 'Is there any dessert?' her question is followed by a small burp and a quiet laugh. Her father pumps his knee audibly into hers under the table and throws her a pointed look. ‘What?’ she feigns innocence. You chuckle at their antics watching them bicker.

'I have some cherry jam if you're interested.' you offer with a smile.

'A bit, please.' she replies. Olivia’s eyes are sparkling while her father looks as unimpressed as ever, while you prepare a few slices of homemade bread and spread jam on it. She sits closer to him whispering something in his ear. He bands down and you watch as he whispers back.

She seems to be a very attached child, and you wonder if that is a consequence of all the trauma she has gone through. His manners on the other hand seem a bit less harsh, slightly more relaxed, although his dark gaze still lingers on you as if his prepared for you to rush him or something.

After you finish eating you collect yours and Olivia's plates and dump them in the sink to wash them later. You then turn towards Olivia 'How about we get you out of those dirty clothes and give you a warm shower? you ask motioning upstairs were your bedroom and personal bathroom are. She looks at her father with a look of silent plea.

'Go on.' he says quietly with a nod. She gets up, excited to get a warm shower, the prospect of getting cleaned and changing clothes is too much for her to resist. Olivia runs up the stairs followed quickly by you, leaving the man alone to eat.

A few moments after you are out of sight, Simon takes off his balaclava and puts it on the chair where his daughter sat. he grabs the cutlery and just as he’s a bout to start cutting into the chicken he stops, feeling eyes on him. He casts his eyes at the door where your dog watches him curiously head tilted to the side and years pointed up. ‘What?’ he grunts in annoyance, and the dog gets up and leaves the room. With a sigh Simon starts eating, he can’t remember his last proper meal that didn’t involve expired cans of beans.

Once in the bathroom, you turn on the shower and set the necessary water temperature before stepping out to wait for her. You go inside your bedroom searching for some clothes that will fit her better than what she has. Her soiled clothes go straight to the bin. They’ll need a proper wash for sure. You wait by the door for her to finish. You can hear her saying something to you through the cracked door.

'I don't remember the last time we had warm water' she says from behind the shower curtain. 'Were you on the road for a long time?' you inquire curious to know more about them, and now taking your chances with Olivia who is chattier than her father.

'Yeah...We've been on the move and camping for a while now in abandoned houses.' she replies as she turns off the shower and steps out. She is wrapped in the towel, her wet hair sticking to her forehead and with a shy, bashful look on her face to which you can't help but smile at.

'Come' you motion for her to go inside your bedroom 'let's get you dry.' She happily obliges and you both step into the bedroom.

You help her dry her hair and then you give her some privacy for her to change into the new clothes. By the time you are done, she is completely dry and wrapped in a cozy sweater and shorts. She looks really pretty now that she’s clean, her pixie cut framing her round face perfectly.

She smiles at you and then starts looking around the room. Your bed is made, covered in cream linen bedsheets, your bedside table is nicely decorated with some flowers from your garden, and your desk is neatly organized.

A few books and magazines laying at the corner of the desk that catch her attention. She walks closer looking at the covers curiously. You notice her looking at a particular magazine cover, it shows a woman holding some gardening tools and a child playing nearby.

'Do you like gardening?' you ask her.

She shrugs. 'I don't know', she answers sincerely. Right, if they were moving from place to place, they didn't have time for that. Probably didn’t have time for many other things. The realization dawns on you. Growing on the run in a world full of monsters must’ve been rough on her, not really being able to be a child, always on high alert.

'Maybe you can help me tomorrow in the garden if you feel better.' you offer kindly. 'That would be nice.' she replies earnestly, her warm smile lighting up her adorable face, making her look like a normal kid.

'Okay, for now, let's get you settled in the bedroom downstairs.'

'Alright… but can I ask you something?'' she looks up at you scuffling her feet, the wool socks you gave her sliding and pooling at her ankles. 'Sure thing.' You turn towards her and wait for her to voice her question. There's a brief pause in which she mulls over, seemingly struggling to form the right words.

Finally, she speaks, 'Why did you accept us in your house? She takes you by surprise. You pause, looking around, giving yourself time to think before you answer. 'It was the right thing to do. You needed help.' You say conviction in your tone.

She nods a little bit, still unsure. 'But you don't know us...you could have just closed the door on our faces. It happened before. People keep their things for themselves out there.' She arguments.

Your heart falls a little, your hopes in humanity crumbling. You knew people could be selfish at times, but now they really turned borderline savage and hysteric. 'People can be like that when they feel threatened.' you admit.

'But you aren't?' she follows up your statement with a question. You hesitate a bit, her eyes are focused solely on you, their innocence and naïveté are so endearing it somehow breaks your heart.

'I try not to be.' Your answer seems to have raised even more questions. She is curious to know more. 'Why? Why do you try not to be like the others?' she tilts her head as if trying to solve you like one does a riddle. 'I don't know. It just doesn't feel right to me. I think people should be kind or at the very least not violent with one another.' Your philosophical reply is met with more confusion. '..So why did you let us in?' she asks earnestly. She doesn't understand why someone like you would extend a warm generosity to perfect strangers who have nothing to offer when the same kindness is so scarce.

'Well, your father did threaten me with a gun.' you give her a more appropriate answer, something she understands better: violence. She sighs. Her adorable little face drops as she realizes that her father's actions might have put you in danger. 'Oh.' She remembers your earlier encounter, her father's less-than-friendly approach to strangers seems nothing new to her. ‘Right…. He's protective, he has to be.' she promptly excuses his actions, her expression a little troubled but at the same time, she seems to understand. 'But he's not a bad person' she quickly adds.

'I didn't say he was.' you remind her. She nods her head a little, still thinking about it all.

She is very smart, it is evident that she is much more aware of her surroundings than the average kid her age, you wonder what she would grow up to be, and what kind of adult she would turn out to be in such a harsh world. You imagine she will be a spitting image of her father, cold and ruthless.

You gently lead her down the stairs and to the guest bedroom ending your conversation. Once you reach downstairs you notice that her father is missing yet again. 'He's probably outside smoking. He never does it when I'm around though. He says it's bad for the lungs. But I don't understand why he keeps doing it' she confesses. She sounds more like an adult than a child. She has probably matured fast due to the circumstances, but that doesn't change the fact that she is still so young.

She still needs guidance, she still needs help figuring things out. Even as she speaks of his flaws, she is quick to excuse him and defend him, she loves him and looks up to him so much. It's almost like she sees him as two different people, one good and one not-so-good. You wonder if that is just her way of trying to cope with his actions.

'It's a bad habit people tend to have when they are stressed' you tell her. You remember your college years going to bars with colleagues and smoking a few cigarettes from your friends. But you never bought a packet.

'Do you get stressed?' she asks you, seemingly trying to see if you are the same as her father.

You take a few seconds to think it over, but her innocent, naïve gaze is hard to lie to.

'I do.' you confess, '…Sometimes. But I do other things to relieve the stress.'

She looks at you curiously, you can tell that she is looking to you for advice on how to deal with stress or she’s just looking for options for her father. 'What kind of things?' she asks, her voice filled with childlike wonder and curiosity.

'Well, gardening is a good way. Bellamy likes to help.' at the mention of her name, your companion leaves her guarding post by the fireplace and approaches the two of you. Olivia hides a little behind you at the sight of the dog. 'Don't worry, she won't bite you, I promise. She's really friendly with people. Look...' You crouch next to her and stretch your palm towards her nose. Bellamy starts wagging her tail eager to be petted.

Olivia watches you cautiously, but then sees how Bellamy loves to be petted and she can't help herself from being curious. She cautiously puts her soft little hand forward, hesitantly touching Bellamy on the cheek. The dog allows it, and soon Olivia warms up to her and starts petting her.

She smiles at you as she does that, then she speaks. '...Does she like me?' she whispers loudly as if the dog might understand her. 'I think she does' you playfully match her tone.

Olivia smiles even more, petting Bellamy even more enthusiastically. 'What kind is she?' she asks, showing a bit more enthusiasm in her voice. 'She's a Border Collie. She is a dog meant to herd sheep and keep guard from other animals.' '…She must be very smart.' Olivia says as she continues petting her, her voice is full of curiosity and admiration as she says that. 'She is' you say with a tone of love for your sole companion. ‘Dad told me that the dog that bite me was German Hepard. A guard dog.’ She informs you the way children do to prove they are just as knowledgeable as adults. ‘Shepherd. German Shepherd.’ You correct her with a small laugh. ‘That’s what I said.’ She counters with an incredulous look on her face at you for not taking her seriously.

Olivia slowly yawns her eyes hooded with exhaustion. 'Let's get you in bed' You guide her towards the bed pulling the covers and allowing her to get in. Once she settles comfortably you put the back of your hand on her forehead checking for any signs of increased temperature. to your relief, her fever went down a little. It means that the pills still have an effect even after all these years. 'Good night' you whisper to her as her eyes flutter closed. She nods, tired from the day's events, and slowly closes her eyes as the sleep starts to take over her. '..Good night..' she whispers to you with a sleepy voice before she falls asleep.

You quietly sneak out of the room, closing her door softly behind you. You can still hear her soft snoring coming from inside the room, and a little smile forms on your face. You know she feels safe with you, and that warms your heart a little. You then head towards the kitchen, Bellamy in tow, only to discover that there are freshly washed dishes on the drying rack. You hum to yourself in appreciation. He may be a hulking terrifying military man but he has manners. You chuckle at the thought, despite the cold and aloof vibe he gives off, he still manages to surprise you with small gestures like these. It's clear that no matter how rough he seems, he does have a softer side to him.

Bellamy follows you next, and the two of you make your way outside. The rain has stopped, but there is still no sign of the man. He seems to like to disappear like a ghost. you scan the area around your garden, which is now damp with the fresh rain. Further outside, from the fence to the outside world, the darkness envelops everything. The light from your house is not strong enough to penetrate outside your garden. You take a deep breath the air humid and refreshing. The clouds hide the stars, you wish the sky was clear so you could map out the constellations with your finger, a favourite pastime of yours during the summer nights when the air is too stuffy for you to fall asleep.

After a while, the gate opens, and the masked man walks in, rifle slung on his shoulder, strap gripped tightly in his hand. The white skull on his face is the only thing that reflects enough light for you to make it out. A shiver runs down your back at his frightening attire. No wonder other people turned them down. He looks more like a serial killer from a horror movie than a human being. As he comes towards you, you can't help but wonder out loud 'Why the mask?' you watch him as he approaches you.

He doesn't respond to your question. Instead, he looks you up and down, studying you for a moment before he speaks with a firm voice. '..To hide my face.' He states in an obvious manner.

You stare at him dumbfounded the look on your face most likely betraying your confusion at his answer. He walks past you a small chuckle audible enough for you to catch it. He goes inside without another word. He's such a hardass... you think to yourself but you follow after him locking the door behind you. He looks around, most likely looking for his daughter. 'Olivia is asleep in the guestroom.' you point your thumb over your shoulder at the door. He stares at you silently which makes you really uncomfortable. 'You can make yourself comfortable here. My bedroom is upstairs...' you inform him awkwardly.

He stands there, not uttering a word, not even moving an inch, just looking at you, his eyes searching your skin and face, analysing your body and appearance with a prodding, cold, and distant gaze.

After what seems like an eternity, he finally utters a few words in response to you. '..That'll do..' he dismisses you with his usual monotonous and stern voice.

You nod and go up the stairs. once inside the room, you lock the door and sit on your bed. You stay like that for a while trying to comprehend today's events. You're unsure how things will play out between you and the masked man downstairs. You only hope that it won't interfere with the peaceful life you've built for yourself here. After what feels like hours have passed, you rise and start digging in your closet for pyjamas and a towel. You'll take a shower, hoping it will wash away the unease that seems to overtake you.

As you strip away your clothes and step into the shower, the warmth of the water fills your body as it washes away the cold. You let the hot water run over you for a while, allowing yourself to relax and forget the tension still lingering around you. After a few minutes, you step out and dry off by sliding your towel along your wet skin. Feeling refreshed and cleaner, you pull on a comfy set of pyjamas before returning to bed.

Once under the sheets, you close your eyes and try to fall asleep. Unlike Bellamy who snores peacefully on the rug next to your bed, you don't have such luck. You stare at the wooden ceiling above you. The house is dead quiet and you try to focus your hearing in hopes you'll catch something from outside your room. A few minutes pass when you can distinctly hear the faucet of the downstairs bathroom sink. You keep listening trying to imagine what he's doing. He's probably washing up, you think. The house creeks as the wind outside starts to blow. Soon after the rain starts once again, the sound of raindrops hitting your window finally lulls you to sleep.

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