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#don’t know why I made everything so green
leclercsredhelmet · 3 days
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You Are in Love 𓇼Oscar Piastri
A/N: Hi again! I’m back with an Oscar blurb inspired by You Are in Love. Hope you enjoy it! I had a lot of fun writing this cute blurb
“You can see it with the lights out, you are in love”
Australia was your second home, California was your first and London was your third. Despite being your second home, it occupied more space in your heart than the others. Oscar had been away from home throughout this season, which was why you had decided to spend the summer break with his family. Today it had been a family outing for you and the Piastri’s. Propped up by your elbows you lay on your sandy beach towel and engaged in conversation with Oscar’s sisters and Nicole.
It was a picture-perfect beach day, the skies were clear, the sun was ever so bright, and there were plenty of surfable waves. You had gotten a pretty good amount of surf time and caught some great waves. The cooler was jam-packed with snacks and of course, Nicole’s amazing fruit salad, which you had helped yourself to at least three of the tiny bowls.
Currently, you were on your fourth and the Piastri ladies laughed, “Nicole honestly what else do you put in this because I swear to you I can’t make it like you do?” you asked and she laughed. “Dear, I don’t know what to tell you,” she said. “I’m convinced that there’s some magic in everything you make,” you replied with a smile. “You’re too kind,” she said appreciatively. You smiled as just as you were reaching for a strawberry the bowl was taken from your hands. “Osc!” You whined and he laughed from behind you.
“Oh come on! You’ve snacked on three, and only shared half of one with me!” he exclaimed and you stood up to reach for it but he held it high. “If I share will you lower it?” You asked innocently and batted your eyelashes at him. For a few seconds, he looks at you and bites his lip. If there was one thing that would make him do a double take was you looking at him with those green eyes. “Alright,” he said accepting defeat and you cheered making him smile. Both of you sat side by side with your legs tucked against your chest as you shared the fruits.
“You’re so cute, it makes me sick,” one of Oscar’s sisters said. Everyone laughed, “We make each other sick” Oscar added with a cheeky smile. Nicole made room for her husband who joined your group and he sat down next to his wife, smiling at you two. “Let me guess did they argue over the fruit bowl, she only looked at him and he gave in?” his dad asked. “She did, it’s unfair” Oscar jokingly replied, “No, you’re just in love,” he said looking at his wife. Everyone awed and Nicole hid her face on her husband’s neck.
Passing around cans of sparkling water and snacks you all enjoyed the sun before packing up. The beach had multiple nearby showers so everyone split, you and Oscar found one and rinsed off the sand. He helped you rinse the sand off your hair and leaned in to steal a quick kiss. Giggling you turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck, his found residence around your waist. His hot skin made contact with yours and a chill ran up your spine.
Looking up at him, you slightly stood up and pressed your lips against his in a soft kiss. His lips tasted like sea salt, the same was true for you. Smiling into the kiss you pulled apart and hugged him, reaching over he turned the shower off and grabbed the towel from your bag draping it around you.
As a means to thank him, you kissed his cheek and pulled apart to do the same for him. With towels around your shoulders, you held hands, interlocking your fingers. Swinging your arms back and forth as you walked, Oscar looked at the movement and laughed.
The sun was to his back and framed him perfectly, he had gotten a bit of a tan already and his skin was starting to look darker, his cheeks were a little red and his hair was messy. Summer’s effect always did good to him, he looked like the person you loved and you adored that. “Babe, why are you staring at me?” Oscar asked. “You just look so pretty, summer always makes you look pretty,” you replied.
“Are you saying I’m not pretty the rest of the year?” he asked while placing his hand on his bare chest in faux hurt. Laughing you shook your head, “No, it’s just that you look different in a good way during summer. You just look exactly like you did when I first met you two summers ago” you concluded and Oscar just pulled you in and kissed your head. “I love you,” he whispered. “And I love you more,” you replied. “Pfft, I love you most,” he replied. You giggled.
His dad had already loaded the surfboards on top of the car and Oscar helped to tie them. Being the gentleman he is he opened the door for his sisters and you, climbing in next to you he closed the door. Smiling you leaned your head on his chest and engaged in conversation with his family. Oscar chimed in once in a while but often he was too busy looking at you or playing with your hair. For the record, he also thought you looked prettier during the summer for the same reason you had explained to him.
Straight out of the beach you all headed to a nearby outdoor restaurant, chatter filled the table, jokes were said all around, laughter was shared and even better company was enjoyed. The Piastri’s truly felt like a second family to you, and you couldn’t help but glance around at the Aussie boy next to you and lean into his soft touches. Having spent a good amount of time you were well on your way to the Piastri household.
Night had fallen and the stars were so bright, Oscar knew you loved to stargaze so he approached you with a blanket under his arm and he led you to the back porch. Laying it on the ground you took a seat next to him. Ever so gently, he let you both down, an arm was resting on the back of your neck, your head was on his chest and his other spare arm was resting on your stomach.
With your gazes trained on the sky, you pointed out the constellations that started to appear. The moon’s glow cast over you both, and it reflected the silver necklace around your neck. Reaching over Oscar traced his pinkie finger over the pendant, it was a tiny silver-plated koala. He had gifted you this necklace on your first anniversary and ever since you have worn it every day without fail.
Silence was all you needed, while verbal language wasn’t being used, your affectionate touches were enough. Your left arm was raised above your head and your hand was intertwined with his. Oscar pressed soft kisses to the top of your head and you hummed happily while tracing patterns on the arm resting on your stomach.
Closing your eyes you appreciated the smell of his familiar cologne and his body heat. Breaking the silence you cracked a joke and felt your back vibrate while listening to the sound of his laugh. “You’re my favorite person in the entire world” you both whispered at the same time. Twin smiles appeared on your faces, moments like this with him made you realize that you are in love, true love.
(all photo credits go to the respective owners)
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strawberryforks · 1 day
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better than hemingway // damian wayne x ironrot!reader
summary: you and your boyfriend have WEIRD sleep schedules, your nemesis is a bird, you’re a thief, and this is part one of a new series.
warnings: swearing, blood, violence, criminal activity (idk man, you’re not a good guy)
a/n: reader and damian are 18/19. requests are open <3 feel free to spam
word count: 1174
it’s pitch black in the apartment–all of the lights are off, and you, making your footsteps featherlight have no intentions of turning any of them back on. your boyfriend, who you’re certain is an insomniac is up at all hours of the night and the lightest sleeper you’ve ever met. it’s because of this that you two don’t usually sleep in the same bed. you were friends and roommates before you were anything more so aside from the occasional sleepover and exchange of clothes (damian has less sweaters then he started with, tee shirts too as you love to sleep in them) not much has changed. your room is still decorated with posters, flooring comprised solely of dirty clothes, empty water bottles, pins and stuffed animals, and his is still perfectly organised. you’re opposites and it shows. but in every way it counts? it doesn’t matter a bit. you creep through the hallway with your pastel pink slippers on. they’re fluffy and don’t click against the ground. you step over the creaky floorboards, having memorised them, and make it to the living room. your eyes have adjusted to the dark, so you look around, and when nothing is amiss, nudge the door open.
the bellman has retired for the night, so it’s up to you to let yourself out. and you do. after ducking into an alleyway you put on your suit and fish your phone from your bag before stashing it behind the green bin. “hey dae. esti called and needed me. i’m sleeping over.”
then, you send a text to esti, “hey girl. if damian calls you tell him we’re together. thanks in advance xoxo.”
god only knows why she was awake at 2am, but your phone dings and there’s a response almost immediately. “and if he shows up like last time?”
“spam me and tell him i went to pick something up at our fav 24 hour gas station. i’ll book it there and boom. anyways wth are you awake???”
“was bingeing supernatural. sue me.” (you couldn’t blame her)
“well try to get some sleep sometime. I’ll stop by tomorrow. for real. want anything?”
“would love a new necklace. not too memorable tho.”
“i was thinking icecream but sure. ly.”
you pocket your phone, sticking it into the most secure pocket in your suit. after glancing at the green bin to confirm that nothing’s visible–not your bag or damian’s sweater. your hands find purchase in the crevices between bricks, molten iron helps to stick your fingertips to the wall you scale. then , on the rooftop, the wind picks up. the night air is chilly, perfect foreshadowing for the crime you’re about to commit. no, you’re not going to steal ice cream. that’s tomorrows problem, a cone is only $3, and the woman who runs the shack is the sweetest ever. it’s more tempting to gift her things than to take from her.
you run across the roofs until you reach your destination. then, you lower yourself down to the ground and make quick work of the doorknob. “someone hasn’t been robbed before,” you muse, pins slotting around easily, latch clicking open. shouldering through, a grin splits your face as you look around. everything is dusty and allergies are a bitch, “ACHOO!” your sneeze startles a cat, and the tortie stretches out and walks over to you, angling to be pet. the pet flops down and when it isn’t given the expected attention–hisses and walks away.
after stuffing a few watches, some costume jewellery, a wooden beaded necklace, some first edition books (damian’s birthday was coming up and they would make great gifts so long as no one made a huge deal about them being missing), a map (it looked cool) and just about everything behind the glass wall you broke with a few well places thumps of your fist. finishing up your haul, he arrived.
just in time because what was a night without your nemesis making his incredibly irritating presence known.
robin. fucking robin.
he’s your nemesis. nope, you couldn’t get batman so there’s a teenage boy, nearly as unhinged as you are, tailing you and constantly foiling your plans. (you’re a teenager too, but still, it’s embarrassing) even this heist he interrupts and you weren’t even doing any real damage. this excursion was more for fun than anything and he was here to ruin it. “how many times are we going to have to do this?”
“well, until you give up, obviously, bird boy. and you’re a persistent little shit, so forever, probably?”
“or until i send you to arkham.”
you snort, “good luck with that.”
he unsheathed his sword and lunged. you rolled to the slide, dodging his blade but–the sack slung over your shoulder split, stolen items spilling out. he wasn't trying to cut you–just your score. goddamnit, you could be dense sometimes. robin picked a book up, “you enjoy austen, do you?”
you scoff, eyes wide as you look at his other hand. the other items are all over the ground, some underfoot but he managed to save the books from being damaged. good, because you wanted them for your boyfriend. “better than hemingway,” you throw a ninja star, one you’ve forged yourself, and send it sailing his way. robin sets the books down behind a desk and you take note of their precise location, scooping a handful of discarded loot into your pocket. esti was going to love that necklace. you stuffed it down the front of your suit, sliding across the floor and ducking under another swipe of his sword. something pierced your suit and you winced–it wasn’t even robin, just a fucking splinter of something you’d broken earlier. springing back up, you crafted another ball of iron and threw it his way, the molten liquid glowing orange. when it landed on the wood floor and began to smolder, you had your distraction. you decided to come back for the books later and robin attempted to smother the growing flames. “you should get that checked out,” he said, slapping an old sued jacket over the glowing orange and red. you looked down at your thigh, at the piece of glass sticking out of it. it was larger than you’d thought. “and check myself into the hospital so you can find me? no thanks.”
“or pull it out and die. either works for me” he slams the jacket into the flames again, in an attempt to smother them. as it’s working, you decide to make your leave, sprinting through the door and down the street.
you stop by the alleyway, grab your belongings and actually head to esti’s. she’ll patch you up and you’ve got something to pay her with–the necklace.
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clemblog · 2 days
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Caine’s Lesson - Part 9
Pomni was finally setting out on her first adventure with Gummigoo, Max and Chad. It was a big day!!
She sat atop her horse, Jingles with a small belt around her waist to support her pistol which was in its holster. Gummigoo was beside her, fussing over his horse Tang. The pair were waiting for Max and Chad to get their steeds ready. Max’s was named Sour and Chad’s was named Horse. Very fitting.
“Sooo.” Began Pomni, sheepishly. “What exactly are we doing on today’s ride?”
“We’re gonna be scouting for resources and citizens if all goes well Poms.” Hummed Gummigoo, giving Tang some affectionate pats from where he sat in his saddle.
“R-Right, I remember now-“ She nodded with a hum. “That’s why me and you have saddle bags, mhm? And why Max and Chad don’t?”
“You’d be correct, we never know what you’ll find out there in terms of resources. We learned the hard way back along when we found our first bunch of citizens and Chad had to leave his saddlebag at the location. Unfortunately, loosing said bag in the process. Usually it’d be just me with the bags, but now that you’re joining we’ll get twice as many supplies!”
Pomni nodded at this again with a smile.
“Y’know… The more I talk to you guys the less you seem like Bandits-“
“Huh, I guess you’re right there.” Mused Gummigoo. “It’s just what people have always called us.”
“How about, we just refer to our little four as… The Scouting Saviours? Cus you know- We go out for supplies, sometimes we come back with people too- So, The Scouting Saviours!”
“The Scouting Saviours, huh~? I like how you think Pommy! We’ll have to engrave it on our bags or something-“
Pomni snickered at this, rolling her eyes softly.
“I don’t know about that-“
“Nope, it’s happening. You’ll see!”
“Uh huh-“
Max and Chad were soon ready and the four headed out!
Pomni found it refreshing to be up so high and going so fast! Her new body from the circus had her feeling kind of small… In the sense that she was feeling a lot shorter and smaller now- But also in the sense that she felt helpless- But look at her now! She was out on a horse wielding a gun with her three buddies! They were helping people! Going on adventures!
Everything you’d want to see from a digital world! If you asked her-
Eventually Gummigoo, waved her to slow down, the four arriving at what looked to be an old run down orchard. It wasn’t far from the Candy Kingdom, so Pomni had to guess it was where a large portion of the kingdoms food came from.
“Alright lads, Pommy, you know what to do.” Grinned Gummigoo, chucking a saddle bag to Max and Chad. “Fill up on food and anything else that might be useful.”
“You got it boss!”
“Off we go!”
The two scrambled off to fill up on supplies.
“And we’ll cover over here, that alright with you Pommy?” Hummed Gummigoo, gesturing to a green house like building.
“Sounds good to me! Let’s get finding!”
It was a successful trip! Everyone had found a large collection of resources which were easily taken back home to be used by Ma and the Candy Kingdom Survivors. Max had only pierced himself a few times when picking the fruits, which luckily could be fixed with a smear of syrup! Apparently, syrup was the main medicine for the candy based creatures.
On the journey back Gummigoo explained how their skin was made from gelatine and that it only really got torn or pierced in most cases of injury. Which meant in most cases, maple syrup and the odd bandage or two would be used to patch up the injury and hold it together to heal. It was certainly an interesting mechanic! Pomni was curious to if it would work on her. She knew she couldn’t get hurt in the circus, but since she’d been here so long, that may change-
She’d just have to wait and see-
Ragatha, Gangle, Kinger and Zooble were interrupted in their little happy get together. By one of Caine’s adventure portals dropping Jax right into the centre of it.
“Ughh.. Something is definitely wrong with Caine.” Grumbled Jax, rolling onto his back.
“JAX!- What happened?” Spoke Kinger, making everyone jump with his initial yell.
“I don’t know- He sent me on a solo adventure- It was [————-] awful. I can’t count on my two hands how many times the adventure restarted because I almost died-“
“That’s no good.” Frowned Zooble.
“Y-You sound exhausted Jax, you should lie down.” Spoke Gangle, shying into Zooble’s side.
“For once ribbons, I agree with you.” Muttered Jax, dragging himself over to a bean bag near the group.
“J-Just shout if you need us!” Hummed Ragatha, anxiety clearly back on her mind. WAS POMNI OKAY???
“Take a deep breath Ragatha, I’m sure Pomni is fine.” Spoke Kinger, in another moment of clarity. He put his hands around her side, pulling her to rest her head on his shoulder. He hoped the gesture would make her sleepy enough to go to sleep. A break from the worry. Another building block between her and falling into insanity. From her and abstraction.
Gangle looked to Zooble with worry, slowly shuffling closer to sit by her and continue with her doodles. The almighty Jax knocked off his feet by one solo adventure courtesy of Caine. A Caine who definitely didn’t seem sound of mind at the slightest. Gangle really hoped Pomni would be okay- Maybe she’d ask Jax what kind of adventure Caine sent him on- And why it was so bad- Hopefully… he wouldn’t be a [——] about her trying to care.. Although… Zooble had been super helpful in talking to her about how to deal with Jax’s general sass and sense of human. Aka being a giant [——-]. So, hopefully it’d be easier to talk to him!
That’s why Gangle liked Zooble so much- She was helpful and fun to talk with!! All in all, she was just the best~
Wait a minute it kinda sounded like she was starting have feelings for-
Oh no-
Part 10
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laroldtheheralddd · 7 months
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Honestly I’m surprised I didn’t draw this sooner
The character is Daniele by the way, made her design on the spot so it might not be accurate
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mishtershpock · 13 days
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.
#okay i’m gonna try to keep this short and sweet. 30 tag maximum you are my nemesis lol#my main issue here is not necessarily that the karaoke and other bach party scenes have likely been cut#it’s more that they’re clearly buddie baiting for engagement#journalists were watching the episode as early as saturday. which means the ep was ready by at least this time last week#so they knew that the scenes had been cut. and they chose to continue including it in promotion and interviews#i KNOW that logically the reason they chose those scenes to cut was because they’re less important. and we’d already seen them#they technically already gave us the clips in the promo videos. right? so bye bye#but that’s bullshit. sorry#they used buddie best friendism content as a way to promote the ep and increase hype#and then they just pull it out from under us the day before it airs#this is a madney episode. madney are getting married. buddie having fun is not the most important thing here. i get it#so why did they not promote something else? you’re telling me there was NOTHING ELSE they could’ve used?#nothing else from the episode that was free of big spoilers? at all???#it’s madney’s episode but they chose to promote one clip of buddie talking to maddie. one of chim crawling. and the bach party stuff#they must know that people would focus on the bach party. buddie is beloved buck and eddie are beloved#what were they expecting??#they used buddie as a pairing as bait. not queer bait and not even ship bait i suppose as there was nothing ‘shippy’ shown#but they baited buddie content. that’s literally what’s happened#i would be more understanding if this wasn’t a regular occurrence. it’s normal sure. shows do this all the time with fan faves#but also it is a false reflection of the episode. even journalists are saying the episode is not what they expected from the promo#it honestly feels like they’ve made fools of us. maybe the episode will air and it’ll be better than expected#but i don’t have much hope not much hope for buddie. not much hope for madney getting what they deserve. ZERO hope for eddie’s 7b storyline#frankly i’m expecting b/t to be the main chat after this ep. which is……. anyway#i’m not really liking s7 so far and i feel gaslit when people say it’s great lol#IN MY OPINION it is choppy and too fast and a little ooc and doesn’t make a lot of sense#they didn’t even green light bi!buck until episode. what. 2/3??#so presumably had to change everything from then on#i know that’s partly down to limited episode numbers but… 3 eps for the cruise (unnecessary) but 1 for madney wedding? ok#sigh. if anyone’s read this far pls don’t come for me ok. these are just my opinions#we’re all entitled to them. i’m sad for madney and i’m sad for buddie best friendism and i’m sad for s7 as a whole right now
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soyboywenzie · 24 days
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for all the parroting about loving evil characters and wishing they were worse and hating the morality argument, team green does not like the fact that their favs aren’t well liked, nor cared about that much 😗
#house of the dragon#hotd#like no one is going to tear alicent from your hands#she ain’t real#none of them are but yall choose them#yall choose to like this characters and defend them so do and don’t get mad when you get eaten up by the majority#‘i’d go on about why I don’t like rhaenyra but id sound like a westerosi peasant.’ ??????#and that doesn’t concern you???#you ain’t gotta like her enjoy the characters you want but#AND THIS IS A BIG BUT#but if you are going to admit to hating her for weird ass standards that the book and author are telling you is unjust and unfair than maybe#just maybe. you are the one who missed the point#maybe. just maybe. you hate her because many can recognize the unjust system and nature of Westeros and have no problem with it being killed#maybe you hate that no one cares about your favs past the dance but many do care about the characters you hate??#or maybe you can’t stand a bad bitch having people who will defend her through everything even if your favs don’t have that#who knows but back to the main plot here#you chose them. you sit here and give whatever argument you want but it’s not a good one and you know it#‘she has bastards?’ the people who want to destroy her created those rumors.#‘she married daemon?’ people who hated him put aside their differences for him because it wasn’t about him#‘she lazy and spoiled.’ your favs son or your fav is literally the same if not worse#you don’t have good arguments none and you all know that#idk but yall have deluded yourselves into thinking the greens were popular#then get hit by the broke baltimore bridge when you remember that not even half the fandom likes these guys#the greens being so unpopular even after the showrunners sent a clean up crew made it clear that the personalities weren’t the issue#sympathetic or not they are the bad guys. they are the antagonists. THEY ARE NOT THE SIDE THE MAJORITY IS ROOTING FOR.#their actions are the reason they aren’t like and they are worse than whatever rhaenyra has done to piss you off#deal with it and love them as villains or wtf up and cry. i don’t know just deal with it without bitching.
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eilidh-eternal · 5 months
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“Single mom x Johnny” this, “single mom x Simon” that.
I want single dad Johnny/Simon and the single reader next door who is helplessly in love with them and their kid.
18+ MDNI
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You never wanted kids. You’re convinced you would turn out to be just like your parents. That’s probably why you don’t have a ring on your finger or any sort of boyfriend or partner to speak of.
You never wanted kids.
Until Johnny goddamn MacTavish.
You’re in love with the man who always walks his little girl to school every morning, crooked pigtails flouncing with each too-big step she takes to keep stride with his long legs.
Madly in love with the way he smiles down at the tiny girl, even tinier hand held firmly in his as she dodges cracks in the pavement, and the shriek of her laughter when he lifts her by the arm, swinging her through the air to the next chunk of concrete.
Hopelessly in love with the broad shoulders he hoists her up on, little legs swinging with arms wrapped tightly around his neck and her chin resting on top of his head, blowing stray hairs of an overgrown mohawk out of her face.
Dangerously in love with the way he lets her cling to his front when it rains, like a little koala wrapped around this tree of a man who holds an umbrella in one hand and has a firm hold on her with the other.
Happy. He looks so happy with her. Like she’s the sun he orbits; the star that lights up his world.
You’re just a comet who occasionally passes them by.
——
Johnny never thought he would be doing this alone.
He’s so far out of his depth. Never even had the chance to dip his toe in the water before he was shoved into the churning ocean.
He still remembers every life-altering detail of that day. The phone call after the 16 hour flight back to base. The frantic drive to the hospital. The impossibly tiny, wailing little girl, all alone in the social workers office.
She’s all he has left of her. Of them.
His best friend. His partner in crime, for more years than he can remember. The person who understood better than anyone who he is, saw him through his darkest moments, and loved him with her whole heart.
Gone.
But he smiles for her. Because of her. Isobel is the light in the abysmal darkness that he’s drowning in. The buoy he clings to when he can no longer hold his head above the surface. She’s everything. His past, his present, and his future. And she’s sitting at the table refusing to eat her dinner.
“’s not right.” Her little nose scrunches, turns up at the meal, and she pushes the bright green plastic away, matching miniature fork sent skittering across the table by the force of it
Johnny lowers his own fork and swallows his frustration with a sigh. “‘s yer favorite. Wha’s wrong with it? ”
Her brows knit together as she studies the tray, little creases forming between them and she slumps in her booster seat. “Mommy didn’t make it.”
No. She didn’t.
Johnny was never the cook in the family. That was all her. She’d chased him out of the kitchen after he’d burnt one of her expensive pans and he was thus forth relegated to chopping, and occasionally peeling, duties.
“I know.” His chair scrapes against the floor when he pushes back from the table, moving to crouch down where she sits beside him so that he’s at eye level with her, and he pulls the fork and tray back towards her. “But mommy wouldnae want ye to go to bed hungry, aye?”
“I wan’ somethin’ else.” He watches her little bottom lip jut out, brows still pinched and face twisting into a stubborn pout.
“Wha’d’ye want?”
“Quesadilla.” She drags out the ‘ee’ sound, emphasizing her clumsy command of the foreign language in her already thick Scot’s accent.
He enjoys Mexican food. Loved the tacos Alejandro and Rudy shared with him and his team during his time in Mexico. She’d learned how to make them for his birthday.
Nowhere in Glasgow made anything like it. Not then, and not now.
“I cannae make a quesadilla, leannan.” Her little lip wobbles, eyes turn glassy, tears already welling up in the corners and threatening to spill down chubby cheeks. She sniffles, drags the backs of her hands across her eyes, and Johnny feels what’s left of his heart splinter, another little piece of it withering away to nothing with each fat tear that rolls down and collects at her chin. He unbuckles her from the booster and gathers her into his arms as he stands up, taking her with him to sit in his own chair at the table.
Her little shoulders shake, hiccuping with each muffled sob against his shoulder and tiny fingers fist the material of his shirt. “Miss ‘er,” she warbles, and his arms tighten around her small frame.
“Ah know, leannan.” More hiccups. More tears that seep through his shirt and brand his skin.
You should be here. You’re supposed to be here. With her. With him. With them.
“How ‘bout we go down to the shops? Ye can pick whatever ye want for dinner. Dinnae think they’ll have quesadillas, but I’m sure we can find somethin’ ye like.” She lifts her head from his shoulder, tips it back to peer up at him with bleary eyes and sniffles. Wipes her hand across her eyes again.
“Cheesy noodles?” It’s thin and reedy, poor little throat still tight and full of grief that he knows feels impossible to speak around.
“Aye, we can get cheesy noodles.” He brushes an errant strand of hair away from her face, tucking the unruly curl behind an ear where it probably won’t stay. Just like her mum’s. So much like her mum. She considers him, his offer, and toys with his shirt.
“And sticky pudding?”
“Whatever ye want, leannan.” She really shouldn’t have something so sugary right before bed but he doesn’t have it in him to deny her. Is just glad the tears have stopped. That she’s willing to eat, even if he has to bribe her with junk food and sweets. He sends her to put her shoes on while he cleans up in the kitchen and grabs his own shoes and keys.
——
He’s there.
He’s standing in the pasta aisle with his little girl in the buggy, smiling at the way she makes grabby hands at the dismal selection of boxed macaroni, and he pulls one down from the shelf to hand to her. She inspects it, turning it this way and that way, pointing to something on the packaging and saying something that makes him laugh.
You’re frozen in place, jar of pasta sauce halfway to the basket in your other hand, and you can’t move because the sound of his laughter causes something in your brain to misfire. Causes the electrical signals between neurons and synapses to jumble together and sets your nerves alight. You think you might really be frozen, body unwilling to move an inch away from where you stand now, by your beautiful neighbor in the middle of a goddamned Tesco, until a little voice is addressing you.
“Hi miss neighbor!” Johnny’s head whips around and when his gaze lands on you it feels like your stomach’s turned to lead. “We’re havin’ cheesy noodles f’r dinner!” She holds up the box in her hand and kicks her feet excitedly.
You’re currently kicking yourself for making what you’re sure is an expression closely resembling that of a fish out of water. Mouth agape, brows raised and eyes slightly widened in surprise. When your mouth finally remembers how to move you smile at the little girl waving her box of noodles and powdered cheese in the air. “Hello, Isobel. That sounds like a lovely dinner.”
His brows knit together, one of them quirked at a curious angle. “And how d’ the two of ye know each other?”
Isobel’s foot connects with his thigh and his head jerks back around. “She’s our neighbor. She gave me the tablet,” she whispers a little too loud, cupping a small hand in front of her mouth. He turns back to you with the same jaunty brows and a quirk to his lips.
“So ye’re the one responsible for the wee heathens late night sugar-induced marathon.”
“M-marathon?”
“Aye, she was bouncin’ round the house all night, the little devil.” He ruffles her hair and she swats at his hand.
“I- I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…” You don’t really know what you’d been thinking when you’d given her the Tupperware full of sugary confections to take home after she’d spent the morning helping you root around in the flowerbeds in front of your home. She’d been watching out the window for hours until she was suddenly right next to you, asking what you were digging for.
“‘s alright. Ye’ll just have to make up f’r it.”
It’s your turn to pinch your brows and tilt your head in confusion. “Make up for it?”
His lips part in a full, genuine smile, like the ones he gives Isobel, and your leaden stomach suddenly feels like it’s lodged in your chest, full of butterflies and other fluttering things you don’t dare to name.
“Oh aye. Reckon ye owe us a dinner since ye’ve skipped right to dessert.”
Next>>>
©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.
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Alastor - [ DEVOTION… PT.1 ]
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[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SLIGHT AGE GAP ] + [ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] + [ BREEDING KINK ] - ( there’s a lot to unpack in this one, I know, but you’ll enjoy it.. also pls kindly lmk the artist for the fanart I used so I can tag them thx! )
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Alastor Hartifelt was a fantastic husband.
No one could deny that.
Especially not his darling wife of one year and counting.
You, his sole companion during childhood, dawning from a rich family that occupied an estate near his family’s plot of farming land, and exceptionally infatuated with him early into your friendship.
From the very first time you met him out in the sprawling green meadows of Louisiana’s swamped countryside you found comfort in each other even amidst being ignored or teased by other children.
Their shared hatred and resentment towards you and the older boy cultivated an odd but strong bond between you two, and soon your strife to fit in seemed less appealing than being his truest friend.
Alastor immediately became protective of you, finding your shy nature welcoming like his own mothers, but also irritated by those who wished you harm for the simple fact that your family was better off than their own.
If anyone dared to pick a fight, tease, or berate you Alastor was right there to come to your aid. You’d tell him time and time again that fighting for you wasn’t worth it, that seeing him hurt wounded you more than their words, but for some baffling reason he’d never head your pleas.
Why?…
In retrospect Alastor wasn’t sure of the reason himself but he was certain it had something to do with the way you returned the favor by protecting him in your own subtle ways.
Your arms remained wide open when he needed an embrace, voice full of tender understanding when the two of you held quiet conversations late into the evening, and generally being his safe place when the rest of the world refused to be.
You were his darling from the very beginning…
His everything…
Yet, Alastor wouldn’t dare say it aloud..,
The two of you couldn’t be more different to those who observed your relationship from the outside. Alastor held an air of confidence wherever he went, suave, and well mannered. He could be cunning when provoked, dangerously charming to get his way, and refreshingly decisive under any amount of pressure.
A man every woman in New Orleans wanted, craved even, but it was well known the famous radio host had you at his side.
You, the city’s undisputed princess, daughter of a wealthy businessman, but regarded as the furthest thing from a ‘spoiled brat’. It was expected for those in higher circles to have sour and condescending attitudes but you proved to be different. Soft spoken, interested in the arts more than being out on the town, and some might’ve considered you ‘sheltered’ in terms of upbringing.
The contrast between Alastor and yourself brought about many whispered rumors and questions.
“How’d a sweet little thing like her end up with him?”
“Doesn’t he want someone better suited? Whats so special about her?”
“I hear, he married her for the fathers money. Don’t blame him for it either…she’s a real peach…”
“A little young for him don’t you think? She’s a lovely broad though…”
You’d heard it all. Every sort of rumor or piece of gossip people had to offer you’d picked up on rather quickly and at first it bothered you, but overtime seeing Alastor act indifferent to the scandalous comments made you less weary of them.
He’d never entertain the scrutiny, choosing to remind you his decision to marry wasn’t fueled by any ill will and as his wife you’d never need to worry about him caring for you.
Alastor’s always had, even when he’d left New Orleans to build his career he still thought of you from time to time, but that’s all he’d ever done.
Cared for you…
Love seemed to allude his spectrum of emotions and vocabulary. Yes, he shows you affection, buying expensive gifts, making sure you never lifted a finger for anything other than cleaning or cooking when needed, and proudly showing you off on his arm at parties and social events he attended.
Yes, he strived to hide his murderous tendencies, taking extra lengths to shield you from his ‘hunting’ escapades by planning them weeks before, and then going as far as discreetly cleaning his bloody clothes and weapons the night he returns while you slept soundly in your shared bed.
Alastor took great care in showing you he cared but defining his love for you was never addressed.
Not even on your wedding day.
It was as if he’d scripted his vows to say nothing of the emotion and even avoided saying “I love you” back when you’d accidentally let it slip out during your own speech for him.
You hadn’t pressed the issue at all, knowing Alastor struggled with concepts of intimacy and devotion since childhood, but the lmawing teeth of doubt pricked your skin harder with each passing day of your marriage.
Had you made a mistake agreeing to marry him?
Was he seeing someone else?
Someone knowledgeable of the world, maybe more experienced in life than you were, or more attentive?
Was she prettier?
Were you not his kind of woman?
Where did he go so late at night, at random times of the month, with a leather bag in his hand and a wide smile on his face?…
Had Alastor been seeing another woman for a whole year and you were just too oblivious or infatuated to notice?
Did he even like you anymore? Could he ever love you…?
Were you not enough for him?
Thoughts plagued your mind constantly, causing you to be quieter than usual, and less receptive to Alsstors lingering presence.
Your back was to him, giving a good veiw of your small frame as you cooked in the large kitchen. The familiar sight brought a smile to Alastor’s face. You were so focused, hair tied back by a white silk bow, and a sheer floor length robe to match.
He’d bough both for you only a week prior, claiming he couldn’t just let the items sit in the display window when you’d been staring at with such bright stars in your eyes, but in truth Alastor had imagined you wearing it just as you were now and couldn’t resist buying it on the spot.
Your husband remained silent as he watched you waltz around the kitchen, chocolate brown eyes peering over the top of his glasses as he did, but his smile faltering seeing the distress in your delicate features.
You weren’t the type to frown often, always emitting warmth and sweetness, so the rare appearance of anguish in your expression perplexed Alastor.
What had upset his darling wife?
Who would he have to kill?….
Asking what was troubling you would surely give him answers to both questions.
He stepped forward, coming from round the corner to enter the kitchen fully before striding over to stand by your side as you began to mix what he assumed was dessert in a bowl.
Albeit, he was probably right knowing you had a vicious sweet tooth.
“Strawberry cake I presume?” Alastor finally speaks, making his presence known with a cheeky remark, and you nearly jump out of your skin hearing his silky voice resonate around the room.
Your head snaps up to look at him, eyes wide with slight surprise, but they quickly soften as he smiles. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as he steps closer, initiating his usual habit of brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before kissing your temple gently, and only pulling away when you squeak out a greeting back to him.
“H-hi Al…you’re home a bit earlier than I expected…” you swallow thickly, staring at him adoringly for a moment before lowering your gaze as tinges of guilt build in you. “I’m sorry dinner isn’t quite ready yet…” you whisper, feeling shameful, and more agitated with yourself than before. Alastor had and would never berate you, unlike most men of the time he saw no benefit in treating his wife like a slave, and made an effort to remind you not everything had to be perfect.
“It’ s alright, darling. You needn’t rush yourself,” his voice is low, simmering with reassurance as he lifts your chin with his thumb and pointer finger. You smile nervously as your eyes meet his again, his touch firm and electrifying all at once, and your tummy doing several flips when he smiles back at you.
Alastor studies your face, attempting to pinpoint the source of your masked sadness, “You seem…troubled, sweetheart. Is there something wrong?” His genuine question brings a shock to your heart, tongue going numb as you race to think of a believable reason for your dampened mood, “I…I just had a little mishap with this cake batter is all!..”
You step away from him, turning to face the semi clean counter with a false air of cheeriness surrounding you. The fear of sounding needy and demanding while telling Alastor the truth keeps you from being honest with him outright.
Fake it.
I shouldn’t worry him with my insecurities or doubts…
It might push him further away…
The whisk in your hand spins in tight circles as you focus on mixing the overdone batter, beginning to thicken itself more than necessary as you kept going, using the task as a distraction from Alastor’s keen observance.
Something was wrong.
He was sure of it now.
His eyes narrowed behind the circular glasses, hands finding your waist as he came to stand behind you, allowing his chest to press against your back, and his head lowering to tuck into the crook of your neck.
A shiver racked your body as he exhaled a long, steady breath onto your skin. Your hands faltered, flurried movements becoming lax as you froze in his embrace, “When’d you start lying to me, ma chère…” Alastor mumbled into your ear. Every nerve in your body was on alert, shocked that he’d went much further than his usual bounds of physical affection, but pleasantly delighted he’d given it to you.
“M’ not lying,..”you try to uphold your lie through rising pants, tempted to moan quietly feeling his lips graze behind your ear, neck, and bare shoulder while your robe shifted lower. You weren’t certain if Alastor was inching it down by his own accord or your subtle squirming against him was to blame.
The ending result was the same either way. Your upper body gradually becoming exposed to his leering gaze and the cool air. Alastor hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and flooding your mind repeatedly as he placed chaste kisses on your neck.
“I wish I could believe you, darling…” he chuckled lowly, hands inching towards the lace ribbon keeping your gown tied shut, and with one gentle tug he rendered the fabric useless. “Al..” you whined in slight surprise as he snatched the ribbon off, letting it unravel into a small pile on the tile floor before sliding his cold hands up the expanse of your heated torso.
Nothing.
You were wearing absolutely nothing underneath the thin robe and Alastor audibly groaned when he realized it.
Had you planned on this?
Were you just waiting for him to venture further with you?
All this time he’d watched you frolic and pace around your shared home, wondering what was hidden under you seemingly modest clothing….just to find you wore nothing at all…
Oh, what a rare occurrence it was for him to be such a blind fool.
Your hands flew to grasp Alastor’s wrists as he held you tighter, kneading your soft flesh lovingly, and taking his time to admire every dip and curve you had to offer him.
“Al…please..” you begged, visibly shuddering as he nipped at your neck and played with your breasts. “I won’t go any further until I hear the truth from that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart…”
Damn it….you cursed yourself, slowly losing the will to think as his lips found the most sensitive area on your neck, bruising it with his tongue teeth until you whimpered and rushed out a jumbled explanation for your heavy mood.
“I…Imscaredyoudomtlovseme…th-that you d-don’t want me- Ahm…” you soft voice reached a new octave as your husband slid his free hand between your thighs to cup your mound, gingerly kicking your legs apart with a nudge of his foot against your own, and you tensed all over as he did so.
Fuck, he could definitely feel how desperate you were now, essentially a mess already without Alastor doing much of anything, and embarrassingly unable to control your arousal.
“Love, hm? That’s what’s troubling your precious mind?…” Alastor mulls over your confession, able to maintain his composure despite heat rushing straight through him to the head of his cock as he slid two fingers into your dripping cunt. You jolted from the sudden intrusion, head lulling back to rest on his shoulder as he pumped them in and out of you at a leisurely pace, curling his deft digits fowvard every so often to make you shiver.
His thumb found your clit, pressing defined circles into it as he began to ease your worries, “Love, ma chère, isn’t what I feel for you..” Alastor lets out a soft laugh, trying to calm his own mind before clarifying his vague statement all while pushing you near the edge of your first high.
“No….I feel much more than love for you, my dear. Devotion is a better term…obsession at times…” he admits the darker side of his affection through heavy breaths, cock twitching in his dress pants when you mewl in understanding. Your warm cunt suffocates his fingers for a moment, walls fluttering as the knot in your core threatens to undo itself, causing Alastor to sharply exhale from the inviting fluctuations.
Your lips parted to warm him of your impending orgasm but only a strained moan tumbled off your tongue. Alastor needed no other sign to tell if you were close, inwardly prideful he could make you come with ease.
“Go on, come undone for me , darling,” he insists in a hushed groan, his fingers stretching your walls in a fluid rhythm to drag your climax out, and you could’ve tumbled to the floor from the sheer intensity of the knot inside you snapping on his command.
Thankfully his taller frame kept you securely trapped between him and the counter that you soon found yourself sitting on the edge of after Alastor slipped his hand away from your throbbing cunt.
You watched with a dazed eyes as the older man licked a stripe of your cum off his fingers, brown eyes sliding shut as he let out a satisfied grunt before staring at your willing form perched on the counters edge.
The sight drew a his hidden hunger closer to the surface, toying with his self control as he took it in, and urging him to act on a primal instinct he’d only ever describe as “intense affection”.
Was that a flash of red in his eyes just now?
No , it couldn’t be…
You weren’t left much time to decipher the hungry glint in his eyes before Alastor reclaimed his position near you. His slender waist slotted perfectly between your thighs, the robe now draped off your back, and your hair gradually falling loose from its simple updo as his hands traced your sides.
“Love, sweet girl, is for lonesome fools…” Alastor pressed his forehead to yours, letting you chase his lips for one heated kiss after the next, and only denying you another to whisper against your soft and slightly swollen lips.
“Neither of us are alone or fools, correct?” He huffs as you nod slowly, bringing your hands up to undo his tie, and then proceeding to expertly unbutton his vest and dress shirt.
The general charm that Alastor maintained completely dissolved into pining under your gentle fingertips, an almost desperate shot of adrenaline consuming him as you peppered kisses along his jaw and neck.
If what he said was truly how he felt about you…it was enough to stamp out your doubts, allowing the adoring side of you he’d grown familiar with to resurface, “No…we aren’t,” you respond with a small smile.
He tips your chin up, placing a deep kiss on your lips as he shrugs his shirt and vest off, setting his glasses to the side as well before reaching for the leather belt on his waist.
You paid his actions no mind, busy with fighting his tongue for dominance, but admitted defeat quite fast as his wandered your mouth in expert fashion.
Your soft hands passed over his chest, moving up to tangle in his soft curls, gently tugging the strands to earn a groan from him. Alastor pulled back, a single line of spit connecting you two as he did so, and his hair falling in front of his eyes as he stared down into your tear glossed gaze, “You’re mine, ma chère. Til death and beyond…”
You nod, halfway coherent, but mustering the will to answer him with a content smile.
“Til death…” you repeat the phrase, mind reeling further from logical thinking as Alastor hummed hearing your dazed response, head nestled in your neck once more before he trailed open mouthed kisses down the expanse of your trembling frame. He brought himself as close as possible to you, smiling on your skin as you gasp quietly feeling his clothed erection press flush against your bare stomach, leaning further back in his hold embrace him better. You feared making a mess of the counter but as Alastor trailed his lips down your body and kneeled between your legs he gave one swift snap of his fingers to eliminate the obstacle entirely.
What?….How in the world did he do that?…
Your curiosity would’ve prompted you to ask him about the absurd occurrence if it weren’t for the anticipation rushing your blood as he came face to face with your cunt. “Alastor?…” you squeaked his name softly, attempting to close your legs when he sighed out a warm breath on your glistening folds, but he held them open using one hand with ease. The other resting steady on your waist, guiding you to lay back onto the cold marble countertop, and lingering there as you obeyed his wordless command.
“Good girl…” he praised, tone deepening as you whined quietly, the sound morphing into a loud moan as he lazily flicked his tongue over your slit once…twice…and a third time.
“More…” you pant in the midst of moaning, head craning to the side while your back arched and the urge to scream built in your chest as Alastor obliged your request with vigorous intent. He hummed melodically as your taste seeped onto his tongue, walls ever so sensitive as he explored them tirelessly, and a smirk playing on his lips as you writhed in pleasure.
Your face was soon flushed completely, eyes watering as they rolled slightly with each pass of his tongue over your cunt, and your small hands returning to tug at his soft brown hair. Another coil spiraled in your stomach hearing him groan in response, seeming to enjoy how roughly you pulled his hair, and his gaze drifting up for a split second to get a good view of your satiated state.
Seven hells….she looks even lovelier like this…
Alastor unconsciously drags you closer to his face, not caring at all when you lock your legs around his head and cry out from the borderline bruising hold he has on you now. “Oh god!…” you yelp, throwing him a bewildered glance before tossing your head back as he lapped at your clit like he’d starve to death without it, and the relentless attention to your bundle of nerves was the last thing you could comprehend before the knot unwinded itself.
Your vision blurred over, everything starting to spin as your cum gushed into his mouth, and the tears you were fighting to hide slid freely down your face as he downed every single drop your body offered.
It was all too much, the hunger in his eyes, his hold on you, and your high that never seemed to subside even as he broke away from your cunt with a satisfied smile on his face.
It was all too much at once….
Your head buzzed with euphoric afterthoughts, incoherency daring to cloud your senses entirely, but the sound of Alastor’s voice near your ear successfully halted the sensations long enough for you to comprehend what he was saying.
“You taste divine, ma chère…” his musing flusters you, a light shade of pink coating your cheeks as he dips his head to steal a kiss from you, “Al…” you sigh into his mouth, biting back a keen smile, and wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him near.
He chuckles hearing the unsteady tremor in your tone, adding onto his compliment after capturing your parted lips in another deep kiss, “I presume you’ll feel just as wonderful with me inside you, sweetheart…”
His assumption proved true. So much so that the moment his cock passed through your slippery folds a heavy groan of your name was the first and only thing he could manage to say. “Y/n….mon amor…” Alastor held you underneath him, not daring to move without completely relishing in the way your cunt wrapped around him first, and your broken moans dizzying the last bit of self control he was clinging onto.
You tried not to seem overwhelmed, with your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands cupping his face to keep him as close as possible while your body adjusted to his size. With furrowed brows and a soft smile you praised your husbands well endowed length as he finally drew his hips back, leaving nothing but the head his cock resting in you.
“You…feel…s’good….” You whisper, breathless as he slams back in, swallowing your pleased cries with one tender kiss after the next. He tasted like you, hints of bourbon lingering on his tongue from the drink he’d poured himself before leaving the station, but your essence more prominent than ever.
All that he was, all that he did, and would ever do revolved around you.
His darling wife…
His one and only….
It showed through the sweet phrases he muttered against your lips as he took his time to please you, pace slow and deliberate, but the execution precise and cutthroat.
You weren’t sure when you’d raised your voice, crying out louder as he abused your sweetest spot continuously, and only going silent when a inaudible scream begged to leap from your chest while his cock bullied into cervix. Stars collected in your vision, hands clawing at Alastor’s back as you tried to hang onto reality for dear life, but failing miserably when he sped up his thrusts.
A subtle laugh passed his lips, eyes glinting with greedy lust as your head flew back, exposing all the love bites he’d left on your delicate skin, and the sight caused his cock to twitch inside you.
“F-fuck….Al!” Your eyes watered once more, sliding shut as a familiar pressure built in your core, rapidly gaining density the longer Alastor fucked into you.
He groaned at the sound of you shouting his name in such a twisted mix of ecstasy and anguish. Your soft voice becoming tainted with an edge he’d never imagined it could have. “Close already, my dear?..” he teased you, smile as smug as ever as he stood up straight, hands gripping either side of your hips, and his gaze lowering to where you two connected.
“Look…at…that…” he mused, suddenly slowing his thrusts to a painfully harsh pace, fixated on the way your cunt continuously creamed on his length. Alastor bit his tongue to keep from growling at the view, barely registering your whines and pleads for him to go faster.
“Al…Alastor…please..m’ begging you…please…” you felt your thighs shake as he continued his lazy strokes, clearly wanting to drag the ordeal out for his personal entertainment, and his lack of sympathy for your plight in that moment edged you even closer to cumming.
He knew it too…
That infamous grin on his face as he watched you resort to quiet sobs and desperate moans was a sure sign of the fact…
Alastor knew you needed him, loved him, lived for him..
“Please what, mon chere?” He bit his lip, unhooking your legs from around his waist to push them to your chest, giving his cock a new angle to stretch your cunt with.
You felt like passing out then, all strength evaporating from your body as he reached places inside you that surely didn’t exist before. His taunting didn’t make your dazed state any better, “Please, ruin you? Please, love you?… Let me hear you loud and clear, darling..”
Before you could register the words they flew from you mouth in a hushed flurry of need.
“Please…love me…fuck me like you love me…use me…I don’t care anymore…”
Alastor immediately rewarded your answer, wasting no time as his hips snapped into yours feverishly, flooding the kitchen with the sound of skin against skin.
“Lovely…” he cooed, voice thick with tension as he stared down at your overstimulated form, and within seconds of the praise slipping off his tongue you came undone. He followed shortly after, not caring to ask where you wanted his release, and you made no protest as the warm white liquid spilled inside you.
All you could do was stare, mouth falling open as he fucked his cum deeper, “It’s high time you became a mother, mon chere. You’d like that wouldn’t you?..” Alastor rambled, hardly coherent as his high coursed through him, but his statement crystal clear to you.
“Yes…” you whimper in response, walls clenching his cock as the thought of carrying his child sprung into your mind. “I’d love it…Al.”
His heart nearly stops as a genuine closed eye smile graces your face, a light blush painting your cheeks as he kisses them gently while gingerly slipping his softened cock out of your leaking heat. Alastor then lets your legs fall, lifting you to sit up straight on the counter again before wrapping his arms around your waist.
You hang onto him for balance, feeling entirely small in his grasp, and finding comfort in the embrace as exhaustion trickles in.
Alastor breathed in your sweet scent, beginning to pull your robe back on your tired form before reaching for his dress shirt. He was careful not to stir you away from his chest as he shrugged the clothing back on
“I’d love you and our child more than anything…” he nonchalantly mumbles, kissing the top of your head, and chuckling when your tied eyes go wide with undeniable hope.
“More than anything?…”
“Anything, my dear…” he repeats himself with a soft smile, bringing a hand up to push fallen strands of hair from your face.
That was when it occurred to you…
Alastor Hartiflet could love…
He’d always been able to….
And he loved you enough to share it with another…
How surreal….
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This entire 1st part was brought to you by the Great Gatsby movie soundtrack…❤️ you’re welcome… ;)
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
Actually it MIGHT BE 12 inches if we are being honest… ❤️ credits to creator.
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the-record · 4 months
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☀️ i see the light ☀️
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summary: ellie is just trying to hide from the guards when she stumbles apon a tower and a girl with really long hair.
pairing: flynn ryder!ellie williams x rapunzel!reader
warnings: non me things
a/n: i want to thank the oh so lovely @meowmeowtimw for sending me their gorgeous art, and also everyone who anticipated this fic. thank you so much for the love. also, first time doing a taglist, but let me know if you’d like to be added!
this is going to be done in parts bc my tumblr glitches and i dont want to lose any writing and delay this anymore! i have changed it up a bit from the movie to attempt to fit ellie as a character and not feel like im writing out the script but all the iconic moments will be included
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you’re not quite sure how she ended up here. knocked out and stuffed in your wardrobe.
earlier, it had just been you and pascal. your mother out fetching ingredients for dinner, your birthday dinner.
she’d shut down your hopes and dreams of seeing the lights you saw every year for your birthday. she called them stars, made you feel fragile and weak. left with a half hearted goodbye.
thats when the girl showed up.
short auburn hair, climbing the tower with arrows. before you knew it, she was passed out on the floor, a frying pan in your hands.
in her bag though, that was the interesting piece. something gold and shiny, crystals decorating the circle. too big to be a bracelet, too beautiful to be a magnifying glass.
you and pascal jumped as your mother called up the tower, a surprise apparently. when you tried bringing up the lights once more, she’d simply laughed, brushing it off. you tried again, but gave up when she yelled, asking for paints.
she left, leaving you alone again. until you weren’t.
a girl, in your window.
now in your chair, tied up with pascal on her shoulder. he licked her ear, once, twice, three times before she jolted awake with a yell.
“what the hell?”
you took a deep breath, still hiding in a shadow.
“struggling… struggling is pointless.”
she looked around, taking in what was holding her down. was it, hair?
“i know why you’re here, and im not afraid of you.” slowly, you stepped into her view. “who are you, and how did you find me?”
“am i wrapped in hair?” the girl gawked at you, struggling under the wraps. “who am i? who are you? this is insane. this is kidnapping, just so you know.”
your face dropped. “you broke in first.”
“and you knocked me out and tied me up! with hair! who even has this much hair?” she groaned as she struggled.
“so you dont know who i am?” you whispered as you stepped closer.
she looked at you incredulously, “are you joking? of course not. can you let me out now?” you nodded as you stopped in front of her.
only now did you really notice her. short auburn hair, tied up at the back. green eyes that matched yours. freckles lining her nose and cheeks. lips slightly cracked and parted.
“ill let you out, if you promise me one thing.” she rolled her eyes but nodded. “every year, on my birthday, there are these lights. my mother told me they were stars, but ive tracked the stars for years.” you turned away and pulled back the curtain to your most recent painting. “they’re floating lights, and you are going to take me to them.” she hesitated but you quickly jumped in. “and if you don’t, say goodbye to your satchel.”
she sighed and relaxed into the chair. “alright, fine.” she smiled as your eyes lit up and you ran to her. “ill take you. but, we’re going my way.” you nodded excitedly as you untangled her from your hair. “and, im ellie by the way.”
“rapunzel.”
she shook out her limbs before standing. “rapunzel? pretty.”
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“so you’ve really never been outside the tower before?”
ellie walked slightly ahead with her hands in her pockets, a small smile on her face. she said she knew a place to stop on your way to the kingdom.
you nodded as you took in everything. “she said it was too dangerous for me out here. that id get eaten alive.”
ellie frowned a bit as you spoke. you were definitely a bit ditzy, but smart. you weren’t naive but you noticed the good in everything you’d seen.
“so,” you pulled up beside ellie, nearly bumping her. “how did you find me?”
“i didn’t actually intend to.” she said, looking at you. “i was running, from… some very bad people, and i stumbled apon a pass in the woods. totally by accident. and when i went through it, there it was. the tower.” she watched as you nodded. “i figured id just, go up. i wasnt really thinking someone might be there.”
“obviously.” you teased.
she rolled her eyes, “alright whatever. i just needed somewhere to wait everyone out. and then you came out of nowhere and tried to maim me.”
you gasped, hitting her arm as she laughed. “i thought you were gonna hurt me! what was i supposed to do?”
“okay, fair enough.” you walked in silence for awhile, side by side, hands grazing.
ellie couldn’t help but feel a pull to you. you were kind, and funny. she hadn’t known you very long, but she knew she wanted to know more. and she couldn’t deny your beauty.
she was knocked out of her thoughts as you pointed to a sign in the distance.
snuggly duckling.
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taglist: @urcherrr @onlinelesbo @diddiqueen @pedropascalsbbg @dinaismyfavmilf @madislayyy @ellieswilliamsgf @williamellieslilho @iove-bbb @swxxtbnny
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yenqa · 2 months
Text
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firsts
synopsis — sakusa and you have never had a conversation, and honestly you’re terrified of the man. but one conversation turns out to be many more of your firsts with sakusa.
warnings — reader is scared of men LMFAO, not really any
pairing — sakusa x implied fem!reader
wordcount — 710
a/n — happy birthday to himm! also my first hq post in a while OOPS also not proofread sorry!
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You’ve never really talked to Sakusa.
You had been the manager of the volleyball team since your first year–and you had known him since then, but for some reason, you haven’t talked to him unless it’s volleyball related.
In fact–you don’t think you’ve ever had a conversation with him. But there's a first for everything, right?
Itachiyama has made it to nationals (not like it’s a surprise), and everyone has just arrived. The room continues to fill with people you don’t know, so you decide it’s best to stick with your team so you don’t get lost.
Well apparently that was a horrible idea to everyone else. Because you’ve lost everyone but Sakusa. 
And you’re terrified. Surrounded in a room full of men you don’t know sounded like your worst nightmare, and you were living it currently.
Frantically scanning the room for anyone that’s not Sakusa, you somehow can’t spot any of the familiar bright yellow and green jackets your team is wearing.
Everyone knows that Sakusa doesn’t like to be bothered. But when you make eye contact with him, you change your expression to a way where he understands you’re pleading for help.
And he nods once.
Your mouth breaks out into a smile, and you shimmy your way to the crowd. Letting out a sigh of relief–you lean on the wall for support, muttering a small thank you to Sakusa. 
You don’t expect him to say anything back, but you can hear his muffled voice say, “You okay?”
Tilting your head slightly up to make eye contact with him, you smile as you say, “Yeah–I’m fine. Are you nervous?”
You’re not sure why you ask the question, he probably doesn’t want to be bothered. I mean–you were still kind of shocked that he let you even be near him.
“Not really. Are you?”
You’re even more shocked when he continues the conversation. You’d expect he’d be the most rude person if he didn’t want to talk. “I-uhm I am a little bit. But we’re exempt from playing today right?”
Yeah–this definitely is the first and last conversation you’ll ever have with him.
He nods.
Then it’s silent.
Surprisingly, the silence isn't the most awkward thing you’ve experienced. It feels as if you’re just two people co-existing.
You watch as everyone excitedly hugs each other or glares at their next opponent. One person even tries to rile up the other, eliciting a small chuckle from you.
From the corner of your eye you can tell he’s curious, but he hasn’t said anything yet. This time, you take initiative to point at the players, also describing the jacket colors.
And you swear you can hear him laugh.
Not a full–hearty laugh obviously, but a small chuckle. A quiet one that you don’t even notice. But it’s definitely the first time you’ve heard him do anything resembling a laugh.
“You laughed.” You blurt out, before you even realize. 
He furrows his brows, “I did.”
Your eyes widen, “Sorry–oh my gosh, it’s just the first time I’ve heard your laugh before, Sakusa-san. I swear I didn’t mean it like that–you just have a nice laugh–”
And now he’s actually laughing–like not even hard to hear.
He’s laughing, he’s hunched over, shaking and clutching his stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more mortified in your life.
“It wasn’t that funny was it?” You ask, a frown on your face.
Sakusa catches his breath, “Funnier than any of the jokes Komori tries to make.”
“There wasn’t even a joke! And I happen to like the jokes he makes!”
“Only if you’re sick in the head.”
You scoff at his remark, “Wow, Sakusa-san, you’re very hard to please.”
“Kiyoomi.”
“Another complaint?” You tease, trying to play dumb at what he’s trying to imply. 
“Call me Kiyoomi.”
You can feel heat rush to your cheeks, you tuck your hair back behind your ear and mutter, “Okay, Kiyoomi.”
And even though he’s wearing a white mask, you swear you can see his eyes crinkle and you can assume the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. 
You’ve had many firsts with Sakusa today. This is the first time you’ve seen him smile–just maybe next time he’ll do it while his face is fully shown.
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yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.
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luxaofhesperides · 3 months
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Can I please have meet cute/weird with mistaken villain! Danny (but really just a engineer and or chem student) and the one being put on investigation cause Danny is a day villain(not really)! Duke
Technically, Danny Fenton is innocent. Technically. 
Duke wants to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially since he’s having so much trouble finding solid evidence that Danny is stealing from a wide variety of people, but he’s been burned before by trying to see people as better than they were. It doesn’t change the fact that Oracle’s cameras keep spotting Danny right before a building on the street is broken into and something stolen. He’s always just walking down the sidewalk; no one has spotted him entering or exiting a building, but he’s around far too often to be unconnected to these burglaries. 
It doesn’t help that strange, petty crimes have been on the rise since Danny first arrived in Gotham. 
So.
Danny Fenton is technically innocent.
Duke is trying to prove that he’s not. 
Maybe I’m looking too closely, he thinks, going over Danny’s sparse file in the Hatch. Maybe Danny’s only one person in a bigger operation.
He could just be the lookout, the runner, the information gatherer who marks which buildings to hit. He may even be the scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb; Danny has no support in Gotham, no family, no job. There would be no one to help him if he got arrested or injured in a fight. He’s a freshman college student from Illinois who should be unprepared for life in Gotham but is somehow managing to survive like a native. 
There’s a lot about Danny that doesn’t add up. 
Duke has seen plenty of different people since he first went out as the Signal. He’s tried to be kind and give people the benefit of the doubt, but it leads to his loved ones being put in danger. Some people are truly evil, some working on a malicious agenda, some are misguided in their beliefs, and some are desperate people who see no other way to move forward.
He’s not sure yet which on Danny is, but he’s hoping Danny is just desperate and needs a little help to get out of a life of crime.
Which leads to the next problem: Duke has no idea what Danny is steal, or why. He hits both rich and poor folks, civilians and members of the mob, and once, notably, stole something right out of Cobblepot’s office. Allegedly, at least, since no one saw him enter or exit the office, not even the security cameras. 
But added to the whispers going around about a new group in Gotham snatching people up from the streets, and some strange green substances found in warehouses often raided by police for the frequent drug labs that pop up in them… 
It doesn’t look good for Danny. Especially when a few of the items he stole were found where people either vanished or where that green substance has been found.
A week of analysis in the Batcave and they still don’t know what it is. 
Both Damian and Jason suspected Lazarus water, but the composition was completely different. By the look of the molecular structure, it shouldn’t have been in a liquid form at all. 
All these findings lead back to one person who may have answers: Danny Fenton.
According to Tim, who’s already broken into Danny’s dorm room and checked over all the labs he has classes in, Danny has some concerning items in his possession. Various inventions and little metal knick-knacks put together by a practiced hand. He was also the one to find all the information that went into Danny’s file when it was first being made: social media posts, school report cards, news articles about his parents… everything. 
And then he had an emergency mission to take with the Titans that swept him out of Gotham leaving Duke to tackle this investigation on his own. 
He doesn’t have Tim’s natural skill in stalking and invading privacy. He hates breaking into people’s spaces and following them around, but needs must and he has to force himself to work through the discomfort. 
It’s a good thing he did, too. Danny’s leaving his dorm after his last afternoon class, hood up to hide his face and something held in the front pocket of his hoodie. He ducks around people on the sidewalk easily, almost as if he’s gliding through the crowd instead of walking. 
Duke follows from above, bending the light around him to hide him from sight. 
He walks for some time, weaving through alleys and streets as if he’s been in Gotham his whole life, leaving behind the university campus to head towards Otisberg. There’s something strange about the way Danny walks, as if he’s moving around people who aren’t there, guided by something Duke can’t hear. Even using his meta abilities doesn’t do much beyond show him where Danny’s going to be in the next few seconds. 
He continues to follow Danny on the rooftops, walking along the edge to keep him in sight. 
Then Danny stops behind an apartment building and tilts his head back to look up at it. He tilts his head to the side, then nods and looks around the empty alley. Duke crouches down, keeping his eyes on Danny in the hopes of catching him in the act—
Danny disappears.
Duke curses under his breath and jumps down from the roof, putting more strength into his abilities as soon as his feet touch the ground. 
The space where Danny was has a faint outline, oddly enough. He’s never seen that before. From it is a semi-transparent trail, smoke-like and a pale green leading into the building. It goes straight into a wall, as if Danny walked through it.
He can’t go in and search the entire apartment, but he can grapple up and take a look into the hallways to see where Danny’s heading. If he was looking up, then that’s where he should be heading. 
It doesn’t take any effort to scale the building. There are ledges and windowsills and plenty of handholds for him to propel himself off of, and paired with his powers, Duke is able to find the correct floor in just under two minutes. 
The green smoke slowly dances through the air of the ninth floor, on the east side of the building. If he’s been counting the rooms correctly, then the target of tonight’s burglary has to be apartment 924. 
The curtains are drawn on the window he makes his way over to, and his abilities don’t show him anything helpful for the immediate future. He hates going in blind, especially to a civilian’s home, but capturing Danny takes priority. Duke picks the lock and slides the window up slowly, making sure it stays quiet, then slips into an empty bedroom. 
He makes his way out into the hallway on silent feet, keeping a wary eye on the thin smoke strands of green, curling along the walls. The rest of the apartment is empty as well, pale sunlight slanting across the floor through the blinds. 
Everything is still and silent. Danny’s nowhere to be found. 
Did he miss Danny leaving, somehow? Was this a misdirect to get him out of the way while Danny stole from another location? Did he know Duke was following him?
But no, his ears pick up on the faint sound of clothes rustling. 
Cautiously, Duke turns towards the front door, where the door to the coat closet is open. He focuses on what’s going to happen in the next twenty seconds and sees Danny panic, then disappear from sight again, but a transparent outline of his body is visible just enough to show him where he runs to. Best not to spook him; Duke pulls at the light around him and bends it to hide him from sight.
Then he moves along the wall, getting around the open door without bumping into anyone or anything. 
A figure in front of the coats, shoving them to the side roughly, flickers in and out of view, almost like a reflection in water, distorted by ripples on the surface. 
Danny pops back into visibility suddenly, scowling at the coats. “Are you sure it’s in here?” he asks the empty air. 
There is no answer, but Danny acts like there is. He rolls his eyes and says, “It’s a favor. That I’m doing for you. I can literally stop right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” He shoves aside another heavy winter coat, then sighs. “Why don’t you look for it, and then tell me where it is.”
He steps back and bumps into Duke.
Danny whirls around, eyes wide, and blast of green light has Duke crashing back into the wall, trying to blink spots out of his eyes. 
“Wait!” he yells, grabbing for Danny before he can run off. “I just wanna talk!”
“Standing right behind me like a serial killer does not make you look like someone who wants to talk!” Danny yells back, slipping through his hands like mist. 
“I just have a few questions!”
“Well, I have a question: why?!”
“Will you hold still, we’re being too loud!”
Danny escapes to the other side of the apartment, next to a window looking fully prepared to fling himself out of it. But he does stop yelling, so Duke is counting it as a success.
“Why is the Signal coming after me?” Danny asks, glaring at him suspiciously.
“Dude,” Duke says, “You’ve been seen outside of every single building that’s had a burglary since you first arrived in Gotham. All the Bats are after you, they just sent me because I’m the only one active during the day.”
“All the Bats?” Danny repeats, losing what little color he had in his face.
He looks legitimately scared, pale enough to be concerning, and Duke drops his guard and tries to relax the tension in the apartment. “I’m not gonna turn you into the cops or anything. I just had questions and you seem like the most likely person to have answers. That’s it.”
Danny still looks wary, ready to run at a moment’s notice, but he doesn’t leave when Duke approached casually, leaning his weight against the couch. 
“So,” he begins, “What’s the deal with all the thievery? It’s rarely something super rare or expensive.”
There’s a long few minutes where Danny doesn’t answer, looking anywhere but at Duke. Then he twitches a bit and glares off to the side, and says, “I taking items that are contaminated with ectoplasm to help ghosts move through the veil and leave Gotham.”
That tells him nothing! That just gives Duke more questions! But at least it’s an answer, the first one any of them have got.
“I think you’re gonna have to explain a little more.”
“Ghosts are real, alright?”
“Yes.”
Danny stops. Squints at him. “What do you mean, ‘yes’?”
“Ghosts are real,” Duke repeats, “There are a few who help heroes or are heroes themselves, but that’s more on the magic side of things so I’m not super familiar with it.”
“Magic,” Danny says slowly. “Sure, alright. Um. Yes, ghosts are real. And there are a ton in Gotham who need help moving on, but they’re too weak to get past the veil. Something about Gotham has made the veil super strong, so they need a little boost to get through. Additional ectoplasm bonded helps with that.”
“And that’s why you’re stealing random things?”
“The ghosts I help can kind of sense ectoplasm-infused things, but they need me to grab them since they can’t hold anything without a physical body.”
Duke nods slowly. “Okay, that’s starting to answer some things. We have found those objects in the last places missing people were seen. Any idea what’s going on with that?”
“Yeah, those people were already dead.”
The way Danny says the most concerning answers as if they’re nothing is really throwing Duke off his game. He was expecting to be calm and serious to keep Danny from freaking out too much and look like a legitimate hero. But as soon as Danny started talking, all his nerves fell away and Duke is left grasping for composure. 
“They were…”
“They were ghosts, yeah. And they needed to get through the veil. But they were also able to possess their own bodies and didn’t realize they were dead until I had to break the news to them, which is why it looks like living people just up and disappeared.”
“Okay… What about the green stuff we’ve been finding?”
“Ectoplasm.” Danny holds up a hand and a neon green light surrounds it. Except it looks more solid than light, as if it can be touched, and it moves on its own like fire around Danny’s fingers. “It’s what ghosts are made of.”
Oh. If Danny has ectoplasm, does that mean…
“Are you dead?” Duke asks, heart dropping. 
Instead of looking upset about the question, or even disturbed by it, Danny just shrugs and waves his hand back and forth. “A little.”
“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Duke says, trying to resist the urge to rub his temples. It’s a habit he didn’t mean to pick up from Batman, and it would just look silly with his helmet in the way. “You’re just doing all this to help ghosts?”
“Yeah. Basically. They asked for help man, of course I was going to help them.”
Danny’s a good person. He’s just a good person to ghosts. But this is good news either way, and he can let the others know that Danny isn’t the next Catwoman and is entirely unconnected from any drug production. Everything that made him look like a criminal is just the fault of ghosts. 
“Speaking of,” Danny continues, “Looks like they found what they need, so I’m going to grab that real quick.” He pushes off of the wall and heads for the closet again, moving past Duke without any fear. Duke follows, keeping a few feet of distance between them so Danny doesn’t feel trapped, and watches as he shoves aside the coats again and pulls a shoebox out of the depths of the closet. From it, he takes a single intricate lace headband and holds it up.
It looks normal, if a little old, but when Danny sends ectoplasm through it, the lace lights up and holds the glow. 
He pulls some strange contraption out of his pocket and holds it up to the headband. It makes a few beeps, then Danny mutters, “7.4 millisieverts. That’s enough to get you through the veil.”
Another concern Duke can let go of: Danny’s not creating weapons like his parents have, he’s just measuring ectoplasm through his own inventions. 
Maybe he could talk to Bruce or Tim about getting Danny an internship at the R&D lab in Wayne Enterprises? That way they could keep a closer eye on him while seeing what he can create in some of the best laboratories in the country.
Well, it might take having them meet Danny before they trust him enough for that, but Duke is sure he can make it happen. 
“I better go see this through, then,” Danny says, shoving the contraption back into his hoodie pocket. He gives Duke a small awkward wave, then pops out of visibility. “I’ll see you around, I guess?” he disembodied voice hedges, and Duke smiles.
“I’m sure I’ll be able to find you again.”
“Cool. I gonna go now!” 
He doesn’t see any sign that Danny’s left, but he gets a feeling that he’s alone now, the apartment suddenly emptier than it was before. 
As strange and concerning as Danny and all his bizarre actions were, Duke is glad he was able to finally talk to him and get some answers. Knowing how Gotham pulls people him in, it’s only a matter of time before the other Bats are exposed to Danny’s kind of strange. He’s already looking forward to it. 
For now, though, he has a file to update in the Hatch; POTENTIAL THREAT will be removed and replaced with GHOST HELPER. 
If anyone goes snooping into his files and gets confused, then that’s their problem. Duke’s explained enough. And Danny can take care of the rest, once they go through the effort of tracking him down. Duke's done his part, he's ready for the rest of them to step up to his level.
He can’t wait to see what other kind of trouble Danny can get it into.
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imasoftieforbarb · 6 months
Note
reactions and headcanons of brozone about: how would they fell about y/n having an egg?(once married ofc) sorry if too much
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John Dory
Definitely hubby material
Van life with you and him?
Chef kiss
Ok
He definitely gives malewife vibes
Because he’s so used to being the responsible one
But he also deserves a break so you split all the chores in half
You surprise him with your pregnancy announcement by giving him a cup that says “worlds greatest Dad”
He’s shocked
Like he goes still and you worry- what if he doesn’t want children? It wasn’t a planned thing
And then he just scoops you up in arms and twirls you around
So many happy tears
Instantly tells everyone possible he’s gonna be a dad
That might is now his favorite mug- but he refuses to use it until the baby is born
Those chores that you split? He is now taking on all of them so you can focus on the baby
Likes to speak to the egg, honestly he’s so sweet with it
Definitely plays brozone through headphones around the egg (“John what are you doing?” “I want them to have good taste”)
Clay
He gave up his admin house for you
Y’all still live in Putt Putt village (because I say so)
Viva moves to Pop village so he goes from co runner to leader
So y’all get her room/house
Being married to Clay is so chill
He’s so sweet and literally talks about you non stop even though more often that not you’re with him whilst he’s working
He found out about the pregnancy when you gave him a mini matching green sweater romper
He was like
“Thanks! Not sure if it’ll fit me but I love it anyway!”
It takes him a moment
He leaves the room then runs back in pointing at you like he’s in law and order
“YOURE PREGNANT?!?”
You are now on permanent bed rest
Likes to baby talk to the egg and sing it songs
Buys the new furniture immediately and then starts baby proofing the house
He’s determined to give this kid the best childhood
Bruce
When he marries you, that’s when he decides to change his name to Bruce
Y’all still open the restaurant on Vaycay island
You become the cutest couple on the island so fast
BEACH WEDDING
He definitely tears up whilst reading his vows
“Oh I’m crying…” *you pass him a q-tip* “what’s a q-tip gonna do?!”
Treats you like a queen
Another malewife vibe haver
But it’s not as strong
Y’all were already planning on having a big family
So when you tell him you’re having twins by making dinner, but putting two lil high chairs by the door
He sees them
And goes WILD
“What- is that? Does that mean? TWINS?!?!”
He’s so happy, so many happy tears whilst y’all hug
“Uh- honey? Who’s watching the stove?” “Oh shit…”
Floyd
Dedicated husband fr fR
Has photos of you everywhere
Gets drunk and gets so happy when you tell him you’re his wife not his girlfriend
“THis IS myY WiFE”
Everyone knows don’t worry
Always talked about having kids but didn’t plan for it
Well he did (but only in his lil dreams)
Then one day you made his dreams come true
He got home from hanging out with Branch
(Who you’d asked to keep him distracted)
And he comes home to a really big home cooked meal
And a decorated boiled egg
He goes to eat said egg- but you tell him to break it open
“Why?” “It’s a surprise hun- I’m not supposed to tell you”
Inside is a lil parenting book called ‘daddy and I’
Silence, smile on his face
Tears rolling down his face before he stands up and walked over to you putting the book down on the table
Wraps you up in a such a soft hug that you start crying too
Peppers kisses all over your face
“You really do make my dreams come true”
Doesn’t tell his brothers immediately- wants you to himself
Makes sure you’re careful with doing everything
Just likes to lie down on the bed with you and the egg and put his hand softly on the surface (he cries a lil bit everytime)
When he eventually tells people- it’s completely by accident
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cherry-leclerc · 2 months
Text
stolen sweethearts ☆ cl16
genre: humor, angst, yearning, pining after three years so maybe slowburn??, fluff, second chances, whipped!charles
word count: 4.3k
Everything that leads to your wedding day and ends up with a knock on your door from your ex-boyfreind and an infamous letter.
req!...longer than intended, whoops! enjoy, anons :)
inspired by this !
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“You’re making a mistake—”
Your eye twitches in the slightest, glossy lips curling into a snarl. “Shut up and be quiet.”
“What?” 
Looking down at your boyfriend, dressed in Armani from head to toe and a blank expression, you wince apologetically. You grasp his hand tighter, knuckles becoming white, and smile widely, tears brimming the corner of your eyes. “Not you, honey!” A wet chuckle escapes when he visibly relaxes. “Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes.”
The engagement party was a pleasant surprise, filled with congratulations and early wedding gifts. It also brought out a large group of your friends from hibernation. “Felicidades,” Carlos says with a teasing smirk. “I truly never thought I’d see the day you settle.” 
You bit the air. “Ha ha. That was the old me. New me is a completely changed woman thanks to true unconditional love. It’s crazy, try it out some time,” you shoot back. 
The Spaniard simply scowls and bows away, returning to his earlier conversation. You consider yourself lucky—as if you committed a successful heist and somehow got away with it. He was handsome, with bright eyes, dark hair, and tempting lips. There truly wasn’t a single flaw to your now fiancé. And if there were, no one ironically saw it but Lando.
“You’re making a—”
“Mistake?” you finish off his sentence, sighing and rubbing your temples. “So you say.” You were in the middle of ordering yourself another piña colada when he hounded you like a madman. The Brit blows out with a tired expression, as if he were giving up on all of humanity. 
“Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.” Angling your head to aim a dirty glare, you silently flip him off as he uses your earlier words against you. 
“Aren’t you tired, Lan? It’s been three years, let it go.”
The blue eyed boy musters a threatening look and then rips your sweet treat away from your grip, immediately claiming ownership. Your brows fly up with an offended scoff. He chugs it all down before shaking his curls adamantly. “No, I will not let it go. Bloody hell, you’re one stubborn gal—you can’t go through with this.”
For the shortest second, a ray of hesitance strikes your face when you spot your fiancé, happily indulging in a round of shots with Carlos, Max, and Daniel. The group laughs with amusement over something he says. Your lips wobble, turning back to your friend, shooting lasers. “Why not? And please don’t say—”
“Charles.” Somehow, even with the mention of his name, your world still manages to spin off its axis, alarming your remaining sanity. Last time you saw the Monegasque was quite the day, ending with regretful words and inferior decisions. Lando grimaces when you let out a shaky breath. “You know you haven’t gotten over him. And I can guarantee you that this…” He spins his index finger around the flashing room. “Will not make the difference you're hoping it will.”
-
Have you made your Christmas list? I told you I need it at least two weeks prior. I work well under pressure, but for God’s sake, honey, this is too much. Charles chuckles, cleaning his pair of Ray Bans against the hem of your skirt. You sigh. 
Oui. Making his way over to his duffel bag, he retreats a crumpled up piece of paper. Oh, um, shit. The green eyed boy cringes with embarrassment, pouting modestly. You swallow the giggle sliding up your throat when he frowns furthermore. I swear I had it! It must've gotten crushed with all my stuff. You know what? Charles strolls over to the flight of stairs. I’ll just make a new one, give me a sec. 
As soon as he leaves, you yawn, stretching out like a cat. You can’t help the fluffy feeling; Christmas always adds to it. But something about this one felt distinctively different and you couldn’t place the reason why. 
Your orbs flicker across the dimly lit room before falling back to the thin piece of paper. Patting your palms on your thighs, you get up and delicately open it up, curiosity overflowing. It shouldn’t have mattered, he was going to re-write it anyways. 
His calligraphy had always been messy, and yet you always—somehow—understood; from the start of his sentences to the final dot. But this had to be the one and only time you wish you weren’t so comprehensive. 
I’ve been thinking about us
A lot recently, actually
I’ve had some thoughts over these past few weeks and
I think we should just end things.
You bat your eyes, already feeling the pressure forming behind, stinging harshly. Was this meant for you? For you to find? Had it been intentional the moment he pulled out the fucking note? Would he just not come back and was it all an excuse?
But he does. And his pale face answers all of your questions. 
Oh fuck, what have you done?
Rage fuels within you as you briskly brush away the acid sliding down your burgundy cheeks, heat rushing through your body. What have I done? What the fuck is this bullshit, Charles? 
The Monegasque instantly rushes over, trying to get ahold of the piece of paper. You rapidly pull it away and force a step back as you let out a wet chuckle. He winces at the cold sound. Why would you do that? Why did you do that?
So you’re not denying it? You wrote this? You knew he had, his writing was imprinted into your brain like a manuscript you had professionally studied endless hours.
His skin only loses more color with every passing second. I’m not trying to blame you! I did. I did write that—but that was so long ago, you have to believe me, and I can explain! He kneels down, silently pleading you to bless him with a spare minute. Just let me explain it all to you. 
I never took you for a poet, you bitterly spit out as you continue skimming through the full page. You have a lot on your mind—a lot. Scanning his desperate state, you can’t help but let out a soft whimper, scrunching your nose. 
I’m not, shit. He grips your thighs from where he is and lets out a set of shaky breaths. Do you remember when—
I don't want to remember, you let out. I just simply want to forget. 
He can creepily hear the way your heart is breaking and how his follows along with every word, puncturing his soul. You don’t even notice his coming arm, taking half of the note away and you irritatedly pull back, causing it to rip in half. 
That does it, bullying you down to the floor where you start to cry. Out of anger, out of betrayal, out of everything. The green eyed boy tries to soothe you, mumbling into your hair but you’re too busy zoning out that you don’t catch a single confession.
Leave.
Charles flinches; you can feel it as he presses close to you. What?
He almost doesn’t recognize you when you furiously push him off, crawling back with a sense of suffocation. Pain crosses his eyes as he watches you create distance. I don’t want you anymore. I don’t want you here anymore—leave.
Anyone who knows Charles would know that he never gave up. He either spoke down on himself and pitied for a while, but never ever gave up. So this was a first. A tough pill to swallow.
If that's what you want me to do, then…okay. He stands up firmly, but inside he’s terrified that his limbs might call out for the day. But I love you. So don’t ever ask me to stop. And he walks out of your life after evilly twisting the knife.
With a new note and ring box deep inside his pocket.
-
Despaired eyes flicker over to where Charles eases into a conversation with Carmen and George, occasionally clenching his jaw. You hadn’t invited him—that’s just absurd—but he had gotten word from blabbermouth Pierre and you didn’t have the solidity to say no. From the looks of it, he didn’t want to be here either.
“Well I’ve got news for you, my dear friend, I love Hudson, so climb on board because this is happening…” Your voice trails off the second your ex looks up, as if he felt your eyes drawn onto him. Normally they’re dazzling and filled with joy, but the unfamiliar injured expression is like a punch to the gut. Your conscience calls you out on it, slapping you back into reality. Turning to Lando, you purse your lips tightly. “Who even is Charles?”
-
“God! When I saw Charles had showed up I just wanted to dig up a hole and never come out! Who would willingly go to their exes' engagement party?” Like a spinning top, you fume at Kika whose eyes shine at the sight of you, even after barking. “You should have warned me Pierre would do that. God, I hate that jerk sometimes.”
The Portuguese hums. “Me too…” You flick a questionable brow. Kika giggles, fixing your white gown, feathering it out like a dove. “I know, I should have! Bad friend, bad friend,” she childishly says. You can’t help rolling your eyes, returning your attention back to your reflection. “But if we’re being truthful here, someone should have warned Charles.” 
“What are you talking about?”
Taking a quick sip of the complimentary champagne, she nods enthusiastically. “No one gave him a heads up. He thought it was just any other ordinary party—nowhere near a proposal.” 
Your stomach churns, mortification taking over at the sudden report. Charles’ reaction was odd, but you couldn’t help filling up with satisfaction, climbing onto your high horse when you saw it. Never in a million years did you ever consider that being a surprise to him too. Hellooo? Coughing awkwardly, you swat her hand far away. Kika yelps. 
“Yeah, well he deserves it.” You chug down the rest of her drink in a matter of seconds. Her wide eyes grow larger as she nervously giggles. “No one ever gave me a warning either.”
-
You were never one for being superstitious, but if anyone ever taught you something valuable, then it would be to never make contact with the groom before the wedding ceremony. He probably didn’t know any better—it of course wasn’t intentional—but that doesn’t stop your heartbeat from spiking up when you spot your fiancé sauntering over to where to stand.
“What are you doing here?” you hiss. Hudson furrows his thick brow. What are you talking about? I came to see you. You look fucking hot by the way. Squeezing your eyes shut, you shoo him, expensive jewelry clinking against one another. “Listen, that’s sweet and all, but you need to leave or else you’re going to ruin it!” You already did, the devil on your shoulder growls. You try relaxing, but can still feel the tenseness shifting between your shoulder blades. “Hudson, I’m dead serious, go.”
The stubborn brunette raises his arms in defense, mouthing a quick wow and walking back out. Were you being a tad bit colder than intended? Was there a better way to deal with the unwanted interaction? Yes. Probably. That’s what you tried to convince yourself because you knew the longer you pondered, the quicker you would realize that Lando was right.
You were making a mistake. 
Charles isn’t any better off. He twists and turns the entire night, debating whether he should attend the occasion he knew would most likely make him flat line, but the curiosity definitely got to him. He always wondered what type of dress you would exclusively choose, perfect in every detail. Your hair, your heels. Your smile. Because they weren’t all the same. There was the kind that would sort of slip to a subtle, shy frown when he would compliment you, so he often saw lots of those. Or the kind that would cause your eyes to crinkle—he witnessed those when he would tickle you half to death, laughing loudly as tears would start to form. What he would kill to see you beam back at him once again…
But naturally, he talked himself out of it. What good does it do for him? The following morning, as he blinks strangely at the white wall, he starts to reminisce to himself. Like your first date—which was originally for both Carlos and Isa—but you both weaseled your way in. Or the time he taught you how to skate; only to remember he doesn’t know how to skate. He kept apologizing as the doctor secured your arm with a bright pink cast, but you only laughed, begging him to be the first to sign it. You were probably high off of meds, but still. 
A peculiar feeling washes over as he spots an old shoe box. He almost dashes out of the arctic room when he realizes what it holds, but deliberately crunches down to open it. 
And he knows what to do.
-
“He wants to see you,” Lily shrieks, peeking out into the hallway, then jumping back in. The teal dress was doing wonders for her skin tone, but you couldn’t help the agitation. Tell him I don’t want to see him. We have a whole lifetime to do that, you groan, slipping onto your heels. 
Your bridesmaid clicks her tongue, widening the entrance as you hold back a much needed gasp. “I think you should tell him yourself…”
“I only need a minute,” Charles stammers, a thin layer of sweat coating his sharp nose. You’re too afraid to speak, so you robotically nod as you watch everyone scurry out, giving you two privacy. The twenty-six year old shyly gets closer, gently pinching a piece of paper in between his clammy grip. Your heart stops. “I walked beneath a ladder…on my way here,” he clarifies. You blink, long lashes fluttering like a fan. “I don’t think I’ll ever learn.”
-
If I had known you were this manly, I would’ve married you a lifetime ago. It slips out like a force of nature before you can stop yourself as your boyfriend halts from his task. The day was soon ending, late November, and you were both working together on painting the bedroom your dream shade. He had tried talking you out of it because it was simply—just white— but you had hounded him until he agreed. Now he stands here with a white coloring staining his dark gray shirt and you’ve never been happier.
Is that something you might want? Charles tries to play it cool, picking up from where he left off, lips itching into a goofy grin. To get married?
You’re almost glad he’s not facing you since you're as bright as a tomato. I won’t lie, I’ve definitely thought about it. You take a sip of water, suddenly caught with a dry throat. Could be nice. 
The Monegaque flips around to face you, placing the paint roller down and strolling over to where you sit criss-cross. You visibly gulp; electricity slipping into the small room. It would be, wouldn’t it? His pink lips ghost over yours as you lean in a bit. 
Yeah…
Could kiss you anytime I want… Kiss. Fuck you anytime I want… Another kiss. My fucking dream.
You moan against his touch, melting away like an ice cream sundae. I-I-I really think we could do it; be married. You had been together for so long now, you’re honestly surprised you hadn’t had this conversation any sooner. I would choose that exact same shade for my dress, you squeal, pointing at the wet wall. He hums. Not eggshell, not timid white—whipped cream, if you will.
Ahhhh, smart girl, he teases, nipping at your bottom lip. You practice this shit when I’m not around?
You laugh. I’ve been taught all kinds of tones from birth. My father was a painter himself, remember?
Of course I do, mon amour. He only created the best piece of art yet, he announces with a cheshire smile, watercolor eyes pointing down at you. You blush. 
You’re such a klutz, you would probably do something stupid like walk underneath a ladder on our wedding day. You only do it every time, you say, wiggling out of his grip as he tickles you. 
I swear I don't do that shit on purpose, it just happens, okay?
Pressing your nose against his, you cozily sigh. As long as we don’t see eachother until the actual ceremony, then I won’t be too upset. 
Is that a promise?
You nod. That’s a fucking vow.
-
“You called it.”
Shifting uncomfortably, you chuckle when you nearly tip over. “Yeah, you’ve always been like that, but don’t think about it too much—it’s not like it’s your wedding.”
He clenches his sharp jaw. “Sure, but bad luck is bad luck, no? And I think I’m quite familiar with it.”
His words shouldn’t impact you so much years laters, but they do. Perhaps it’s due to his sorrowful stare, or his anxious tick, but it kills you just the same way it did that December night. You let out a light shudder, blinking away tears. “What do you want, Charles?”
“I wrote you a letter.”
God—a heartfelt note is the last thing you wanted and today was not the day to receive it either. Or ever. Not when it came from him. “I’m sorry, but it’s a bit too late for that. I’m about to be a married woman in approximately an hour.” You narrow your neat brows, flawless makeup shimmering against the sunbeams. “What gives you the right to walk back into my life, get shit off your chest for your own sake, and just for you to do what? Leave?” 
You’re not being fair; not completely, but you can't help it. For the longest time, you thought you were over it, but clearly not. Charles licks his rosy lips, closing the gap between you two. “This isn’t something I just came up with.” He extends his arm out. “I wrote this three years ago.”
You inhale sharply, suspiciously eyeing the white paper. Please, just read it. Back then you could never turn him down, as much as you tried…
And it appears like today wasn’t any different.
It’s almost hilarious to think about how much you cried on your proposal date and how much you are now. You were a light rain at best when Hudson got down on one knee, but Charles stands here, tall, and you’re a complete waterfall. 
“Y-you were going to ask me to…” A headache comes rolling in as you let out a wet cry. “This isn’t true; it isn’t real. You wrote this today and came here to fuck with me.”
The Monegasque shakes his head in panic, blood painting his higher cheekbones. “No—listen; the first letter you found, I did write that.” You grimace. “But I swear I took it back immediately. It’s just that you were getting so much hate during that time, and you would always cry, and then you’d say you were never crying…You were in a really dark place. Do you remember?”
How could you not? You knew not everyone was going to love you for dating one of the top Formula One drivers, but you never expected to read such brutal messages either. They were descriptive, and cruel, and ruthless, and it crushed you more than you’d like to admit. Which was fucking stupid since there was always a rather large community that loved and adored you, and Charles loved and adored you—and yet.
You release a shaky breath, desperately rubbing your eyelids. Lily would probably throw a fit at your now snotty and smudged makeup, but you couldn’t really think too deeply about any of that right now. “What does that have to do with anything?”
The brunette cradles your face and you hate when you lean into his warm touch. “I just wanted all of that to end; for you to feel better. And I could never actually say the words, so I drafted a letter, and I’m so fucking sorry, mon amour.” The tides crash inside your chest, getting harder to breathe. “It has been my biggest regret. Hurting you.”
He did more than hurt you; he broke you completely. Like a porcelain doll, like a trophy, like a mirrorball; it ruined you. But you know he knows that when his eyes slowly turn red. “But then I thought to myself, it doesn’t have to be that way! W-we could restrict comments, I could post something and stand up for the woman I love, and I could reassure her by vowing the most sacred thing there could ever exist…And I sat down and wrote this letter.”
If you thought Charles loved you before, then you’re a fool. He was utterly infatuated, devoted, obsessed and drowning in fervor. This letter may be old, slightly cutting loose around the edges, but it’s pinned as straight as can be. Not like the last.
“My only mistake was writing the first, and to even consider giving up on us. My best decision has been writing the second, and promising to stick by you the way I knew I was put on this Earth to do.” Charles carefully draws you in closer. “But I know nothing could ever fix the shit I’ve put you through, but I’m begging for the chance to try.” He kisses your temple and you relax against his lips. “I’m fucking desperate—just one.”
He slips out his original ring box and shines the gem back at you. It’s smaller than the one Hudson had given you, thinner too.
But it has you written all over.
A dizzy spell hovers over as you blink hastily. Charles doesn’t dare to breathe, waiting for you. “This isn’t…I just…” You bite your lower lip, glossy orbs flickering towards the band and then back at him. “Thank you for taking the time to apologize and clear things up; I really needed that, but I can’t do this.” You step out of his embrace, immediately freezing as if you were spending a winter in Iceland. His heart palpitates hysterically, green eyes skimming your features. “This isn’t what I had in mind—this isn’t what’s supposed to happen,” you press sternly.
“You’re right; it’s not.” Though you had just said the same, hearing him repeat it jams the knife deeper into your heart. You can hear chaos ensuing down the hallway, your friends chirping happily at one another. Contrary to what was going on in here. “It’s not because you can’t marry him. Because you know you don’t love him the way you say you do.” He laughs. “You tolerate him at best! I saw the way you avoided him getting down on one knee that day. You kept running off until you couldn’t anymore.” You burn up. “And who was the first person you looked for as he slipped that ring onto your finger? Me.”
“You’re paying too much attention to detail,” you retort, almost snarling.
 “Sure, and that’s eggshell.”
It’s like a slap to the face. Your blurry vision focuses onto your dress for a second before snapping back up. “It’s whipped cream. The way I wanted.”
The Monegasque rolls his watercolor eyes, nostrils fuming. “Open up your eyes and see—It’s. Eggshell. Nothing about this is anything you ever dreamt of for your wedding! From your dress, to your ring, to your fucking fiancé!” He huffs. “This ring is all I could have afforded back then, but I would have sold my heart to get you a fucking star if that’s what you wanted…But you’ve always liked the simpler things. You always said you didn’t need a huge diamond to prove your devotion. Look at you now,” he says, signaling to your ring that swallows your hand whole. “All of this is fake.”
You’re sobbing now. You’re bubbling with anger. Because he was here, with you, out of all days. Because he was still the same man who broke your heart and stitched it back up. 
Because he was right.
Brushing your nose with the back of your hand, you stare up weakly, defeated. “What do you want me to do?” you whisper, brows drawn together as he folds over completely over your goddess state.
“Don’t marry him and come with me.”
Though you knew that was what he wanted from the moment he walked past the door, it still knocked the last breath you held. 
Things were never easy with him. There were constant fights—but that never seemed to matter by the end of the day. There was constant hate—but you always braved through it because you needed him. 
And he steadied you. Charles was the first one to apologize, even if the majority of arguments weren’t his fault. Charles was the one who despite crushing his own heart, he wrote that letter to keep you untouched from his fans, from the media.
The letter hurt; like a motherfucker—and it would take a while to forgive…
But there’s no one else you would rather work through with it than with him.
Smiling softly, you nod, almost as if you can’t believe you’re actually doing this. Charles lets out a heavy exhale, laughing as he hugs you tightly, leaving you like a fish out on land. But you’re giggling through it all. “I have to talk to Hudson first, oh God, I have to talk to his family…” you shriek, pale and mortified.
“You know,” he starts. “We could skip all of that and just—”
“No,” you coldly press. Charles’ brows fly up. “I have to do this.” Distancing yourself from him, you wobble to the wooden door before looking back at the handsome man who stands proudly with his neat suit. Butterflies expand freely. “You’ll still be here when I get back, right?”
With a single hand pressed against his heart, he nods, as if you held the keys to all gates. “I’ll be wherever you need me to be from now on.” With that, you grin, eyes crinkling and exit the room.
What happened to your makeup? Lily squeals when she spots you running down the hallway, tripping over her tall heels as Alex catches her. There better be a reasonable explanation to this!
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835 notes · View notes
cozage · 7 months
Note
Hello, can I request for aged up characters x reader. Like them getting hit by a quirk that can age people up temporarily like them being in their 60's or something. Thank youuuuuu.
A/N: I FINALLY DID IT HERE U GO Characters: gn reader x Zoro, Usopp, Law, Ace Cw: Ace’s gets a little suggestive ;) Total word count: 1.2k
A Glimpse of the Future
Zoro
When you entered the kitchen, you were startled to find an older man walking around so casually. An older man with a scarred eye and green hair you knew so well, now slightly streaked with gray. 
“Zoro?!” You asked cautiously, staring at the man. 
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled. His voice was deeper than you remembered, but it was the same voice. 
“What hap-”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He set his swords down and sat on the chair. After a heavy sigh, he finally spoke again. “Got hit by an ability that makes you old. Just a stupid prank from some kid.”
“Is it permanent?” you asked, grabbing the tea kettle off the stove. You had to admit, you liked this look on Zoro. But you were afraid of what it could mean. 
“Should be back to normal in a few hours.” He shook his head and sighed. “Everything aches, dammit. I hate this.”
“You always were an old man in soul,” you teased. You were relieved that he wouldn’t be this way forever, and now you could joke around with him.
“I’m not an old man!” he yelled. 
You had to turn around and pretend to work on your tea to stifle your laugh. He really was sensitive over this. Just like an old man would be.
“Calm down, now,” you soothed, walking over to him with a warm cup for the two of you to share. “Would you like some tea?”
He eyed it, and you could tell he wanted a drink, so you passed it off to him. 
“You don’t look bad, you know.” You ran your fingers through his hair, gently trailing over the new silver streaks. 
“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled, taking a drink and humming in delight. “I’m not meant to be this old.”
“Darling, I disagree.” You paused to kiss his cheek. “You were made for your golden years.”
Usopp
“Quick! Y/N! I need you!” An old man who looked shockingly like Usopp grabbed your hand. 
You scowled, pulling away from him. “Who the hell are you?!”
“I’m Usopp from the future!” He yelled, trying to usher you from the deck. “I’ve traveled through space and time just to reach you and give you a warning!”
“What warning?” you asked. You were still cautious, but he did act a lot like the Usopp you knew. The only big difference was the wrinkles and the streaks of gray in his long, tied-back hair. 
“Come with me immediately!” he said. “It’s been years since I’ve seen you! We don’t have much time!”
“Usopp, stop. You’re scaring me.” Why had he not seen you in years? Why did he have such little time with you? None of it made sense. 
Old Usopp grabbed your face, holding you close to him. “On this day, in twenty years…you’re going to disappear right from this very spot!”
“What?” you whispered, trying to hold back tears. “What do you mean?”
“He’s lying to you!” Nami yelled. “He got hit by an ability that makes him old and he’s making it everyone else’s problem!”
Your fear turned to anger, and you shoved Usopp away from you. “That wasn’t funny!” you shouted, wiping a tear from your eye. 
Usopp started cackling. “Oh man, you look terrified! I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“That wasn’t funny,” you repeated, still glaring at him. In hindsight, it was kind of humorous. You just wished the prank had been played on someone else. 
Usopp pulled you in for a hug, his soft, weathered lips kissing your temple. “Forgive me?”
“This time,” you giggled slightly from his stray hairs tickling your skin. “Just don’t do it again, okay?”
“Deal,” he said. “Now let's go trick someone else.”
Law
An older man with Law’s exact outfit stormed into your room and rushed to the bathroom. 
“Don’t say anything,” he said. 
“Law?” You cautiously peered around the door frame. 
His expressions and stance were familiar, but he was older. Much older. 
“I don’t want to talk about it!”
You flinched at the sternness in his voice; it was much harsher when mixed with the gruffness of age.
He noticed you in the mirror, wearily standing back and watching him silently. His tone had been extreme, and he knew it. 
He gave a sigh and pulled himself away from the mirror to walk towards you. “I’m sorry, I’m just frustrated about all this.”
You reached up and ran your hand across his hair, the black locks now streaked with white. You smiled to yourself. Even in his old age, Law was still incredibly handsome. 
“You’re old,” you whispered out the sentence, grinning at him. 
Law’s eye twitched, but he said nothing in response. You could tell he was pouting.
“Is it permanent?” you asked, rubbing your finger across his softened skin, now decorated with wrinkles. 
“Should wear off by tomorrow morning,” he grumbled. 
You hummed pleasantly, still examining his weathered face. His sharp, golden eyes were so out of place on a face that old. 
“Well, Trafalgar Law,” you purred, running your hands through his hair and placing a kiss on his lips. “If this is what I have waiting in store for the future, I simply cannot wait.”
Ace
The door to your cabin opened, Ace’s silhouette blocking out the light behind him. You couldn’t see his face, but something felt…off. 
“Don’t freak out,” Ace’s voice was far more husky than you remembered it, and his words sent a jolt of panic through your bones. 
“Ace?” You sat up in the bed, squinting to get a better look. 
“It’s only temporary,” he said. 
“Ace, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” You stood out of bed and walked to the door to greet him. 
Yes, something was definitely off. His body was bigger than you remembered, more stocky and muscular. His hair was longer. It was Ace, but it wasn’t the Ace you knew. 
“Something went wrong on the mission, but everyone’s okay. We’re just…”
You couldn't stand it anymore. You turned his body slightly so you could see it in the light. 
“Old!” you exclaimed, staring at him with wide eyes. “You’re old!”
You could see a slight flash of irritation dance across his face, and you giggled. He certainly was attractive, even irritated in his old age. The kind of old man who would yell at kids to stay away from his house one moment and then run to play with them the next.  
“You’re handsome, Portgas D. Ace.” You tucked his long hair behind his ear and ran your thumb across his cheek. 
“You think so?” He gave you a slightly cocky grin, but you could tell he was still self-conscious about it. 
Your eyes trailed down his body, sinful thoughts filling your head. “How long are you like this?”
He shrugged. “Few hours, I think. We can just sleep it off.”
You blushed, your fingers trailing down his chest. “Who says we have to sleep it off?”
Ace’s mouth fell open, and then quickly corrected into a devious grin. “You, my dear, have major daddy issues.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re one to talk.”
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starglitterz · 7 months
Text
♡ SPICY. // PART ONE
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❝ ‘cause i’m too spicy for your heart, ring the fire alarm! ❞ // attractive things the genshin men do
✧ feat ; al-haitham, ayato, childe, cyno, diluc, heizou, kaeya, thoma, wriothesley, xiao x gn!reader
✧ warning(s) ; fluff, suggestive, implied kamisato!reader for thoma’s, reader is shorter than ayato for his part, modern au for wriothesley, traveller!reader for xiao’s
✧ a/n ; yeah yeah i’m a slut we all know that already let’s move on 🙄 /lh i was brainrotting sm LOL i hope u guys enjoy! 
part one︱info︱part two
please reblog + leave comments ! it helps a lot w motivation <3
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✦ “are you listening?” AL-HAITHAM’s voice cuts through your messy thoughts and you scramble for your pen to scribble some nonsense and at least pretend you were concentrating. your eyes are glued to the paper in front of you, too embarrassed to meet his gaze after what you were daydreaming about him. without warning, he uses his index finger to tilt your chin up to face him with a curt “pay attention.” his green irises bore into yours, scanning them as if to discover why you haven’t been focusing and the intensity of his gaze makes heat rise to your cheeks. his actions clearly result in the opposite of the desired effect though, because it’s made you ten million times more distracted, too busy thinking about your tutor doing things that certainly aren’t academic.  
✦ there’s definitely something in the way that AYATO leans down to hear you better. it’s a simple gesture, but when he bends down to listen to what you’re saying, it proves that he’s putting in the effort to continue the conversation and is genuinely interested in your chatter. or even if it’s something like leaning against the door frame, a reminder of how idiotically tall he is, it always gets your heart beating quicker and you lose your train of thought. but maybe he isn’t as clueless as you think he is, because the smirk playing about his lips as he admires your flustered expression while you stumble over your words definitely says otherwise. 
✦ sometimes when you see CHILDE’s idiotic smirk, it takes everything in you not to punch it off his face. however, when he’s in the heat of battle, the way his lips curl just so as he lifts an eyebrow at his opponent daringly, almost as if he’s asking them “you really think you can defeat me?” you’d rather punch him with your lips. the sheer confidence he exudes as he fights, the casual manner with which he switches his bow to his hydro polearm, the easy grin dancing about his mouth – it’s incredibly attractive. 
✦ it shouldn’t be a big deal, but whenever CYNO wraps his arms around your waist from behind to pull you into his embrace, you swear your heartbeat accelerates to the speed of light. he’ll rest his chin on your shoulder too, and if he’s feeling mischievous (which is practically all the time), he’ll tilt his head ever so slightly so he’s at the perfect angle to press fleeting kisses against your neck. you can almost feel his smile against your skin as you shiver from the sensation of his warm lips. 
✦ DILUC is not one for grand public displays of affection. you don’t mind, you’re fine with it, but one day another patron at the angel’s share keeps flirting with you, and suddenly you feel the winery owner beside you, one arm snaking around your waist almost possessively. “it’s nice to meet you,” he murmurs to the other man in a tone icy enough to freeze over hell. his fingers tap a steady rhythm against your hips and you feel like his touch is branding you through the layers of fabric. it evidently gets the message across because the poor customer leaves immediately with his tail between his legs, and all DILUC does is squeeze your waist lightly and press a soft kiss on your forehead as a hint of a smug smile curves his lips. 
✦ being a genius detective and also just being really annoying are certainly not mutually exclusive, as HEIZOU continues to prove every single day. case in point; the way he’s proudly walking around the tenryou commission, the array of wine-coloured bruises you left on his neck last night blatantly out for display. the other inazumans who notice look scandalized, while kujou sara seems dangerously close to bursting a blood vessel. “heizou!” you hiss, pulling him into a secluded corner to scold him, “why didn’t you wear a scarf or something?!” the detective merely gives you his trademark grin and winks playfully, “why should i? it’s a mark of your love, i wouldn’t want to hide it~”
✦ one thing’s for certain whenever you talk to KAEYA – he will give you his undivided attention. you love that about him, but sometimes his piercing gaze is almost distracting, the varied shades of sparkling blue a stark contrast to the matte black leather of his eyepatch and often making you veer wildly off-track to whatever you’re telling him about. it only worsens when you catch his stare sometimes drifting to your lips, but he’ll shake his head as if jolting himself out of a reverie before he continues looking at you and nodding like he’s been paying attention this entire time. and if you call him out on it, he’ll just raise both hands in surrender, “sorry, babe, i can’t help it – you just look so kissable when you’re talking!”
✦ THOMA is an absolute softie, always making your favourite foods and spoiling you as the housekeeper of the kamisato clan. it makes sense that you’ve never realised just how strong he actually is. but then you catch a glimpse of him one evening after a long day’s work, and as he lifts up the edge of his shirt to wipe the glistening sweat off his face you think you could collapse. the gesture exposes his toned abdomen, muscles clenching as he lets out a soft groan, and the only coherent thought running through your mind is; why has he been hiding this the entire time?! maybe it’s time for you to switch the kamisato housekeeper uniform to a crop top… 
✦ WRIOTHESLEY is a gentleman who’ll never let you take a cab home alone, especially not after a long night out in the city. but as he’s pulling up to your house, your thoughts are definitely nowhere near appreciating how sweet he is, rather you’re admiring how close his muscled arms are to your face while his hand is on the back of your seat as he turns to check the rear mirror. from the passenger seat, you get the perfect view of his side profile, his chiseled features, the barely visible trace of stubble on his chin, his stormy gray eyes… he’s like the dark male lead of every romance manhwa. and when he catches you looking, he gives you a smile that’s almost teasing, “like what you see, beautiful?” 
✦ even though XIAO is the one who’s supposed to teleport to you whenever you call his name, you can’t help but find yourself gravitating towards him whenever he says yours. it must be how he utters it, softly, lovingly, almost reverent in his gentleness as if you’ll shatter before his eyes if he whispers it even a decibel louder. and sure, he calls you by several petnames (butterfly, dove), but the way your name slips past his lips like a prized jewel will always be your favourite. sometimes it feels as if your name is going to be worn out from how often people use it, begging you to help them with miscellaneous tasks and pushing you to exhaustion. but during those late nights at wangshu inn as you rest in his embrace, he whispers your name as if it’s a secret for just the two of you and the stars and you can’t help but think how lucky you must have been to be born with such a pretty name, created for your adeptus lover to murmur with so much affection lacing his tone. 
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GRR i lowk love this... hope yall do too! don't forget to check out part 2 when it's published as well <3
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hazbinhotelie · 11 days
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“Alastor!” I yelled, slamming the door to his room open.
“My dear,” he said casually, with a small smile. “It’s lovely to see you. What’s got you in such a huff?”
“Don’t play games with me,” I said, marching right up to him. “You know exactly what you did.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have a clue,” he said, smiling wider. His ear twitched. “You’ll have to specify, darling.”
“You- fuck! You put three dead deer in my fucking bedroom you asshole!”
He chuckled to himself. “Ah, that,” he said lightly. “Yes, I thought you might appreciate a nice meal. I noticed you’d been skipping dinner and figured you’d be hungry.”
“And you put rotting deer in my room, as if I’d eat it,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“I personally find the taste to be quite good,” he said, matter of fact. He narrowed his eyes at me. “I wouldn’t have done it if you’d just shown up to mealtimes like everyone else. Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you didn’t enjoy my cooking.”
“I don’t mind your cooking,” I said, crossing my arms. “I was avoiding you.”
“Oh, and whatever did I do to deserve that?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. He rose from his seat and started circling around me. “I feel I’ve been awfully kind to you, despite your attitude. Have I not?”
“The constant game of hot and cold, threats, and insults don’t really send that message,” I grumbled, watching him warily. “I’m tired of it. I don’t want to be made fun of in front of the others and I don’t want to be afraid of being in the same room as you. I don’t want to be afraid that you’ll announce to everyone the deal we made, I don’t want to be afraid that you’ll use it against me in front of the others.”
“Oh? You’re afraid of me?” He asked, as if he didn’t already know. “You’re afraid of this?” In an instant, green chains wrapped around me tight. He held the end and gently tugged me near him. “Hm? You’re afraid of someone little chains?”
“You’re the Radio Demon, an Overlord of Hell, and you own my soul,” I said, quieter. “Of course I’m afraid of you.”
He tutted me lightly. “Now, that just won’t do,” he said. His smile turned more malevolent as he pulled on the chain- harsher this time- forcing me right up against him. He cupped my face with one hand, and held the chain in the other. “Smile, my dear. I won’t hurt you.”
“Everything you’re doing right now says otherwise,” I said, my voice strained.
He raked his claws across my cheek, slowly, only making shallow cuts. “I wouldn’t hurt you in a way that matters,” he said, correcting himself. He wiped the blood away and licked it off his fingers. Then, he went back and started again, this time going down my neck, too.
“It matters to me,” I mumbled, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.
“Mm,” he paused, and seemed to think for a moment. “Don’t cry,” he said, softer. He wiped away my tears- the few that had slipped down my face- then hummed to himself. He traced little shapes across my face, with my blood. “You look wonderful like this, darling,” he said quietly.
“Please,” I said, the word coming out like a small whine. I couldn’t handle him being gentle with me, not when I knew his anger and wrath all too well. I couldn’t handle how quick he could switch things up like this.
He didn’t say anything in response, he just continued to hum and trace little shapes. When he was done, he tapped my nose. I felt an odd sort of sensation flow through me, then the pain from the cuts faded away. I opened my eyes and glanced at a mirror he had on his wall. The scratches were gone, and so was the blood. The chains were still there.
“All better now,” Alastor said, sounding pleased with himself. He patted my head lightly and smiled wide. “There! Now everything’s good again, right? I fixed it.”
I looked at him, confused. Still hurt- not physically, but god, he was so much to handle. “Al..” I couldn’t even form the words. I was tired. I’d not been sleeping because I couldn’t without the radio he’d given me- and I’d taken it out of my room a few days ago because I’d been upset with him. I hadn’t slept since, and I’d been skipping meals to avoid him, too. I was utterly exhausted.
“My dear, is something wrong? Did I miss anything?” He asked, pulling me back towards him. He wrapped an arm around my waist, still holding the chain in that hand, and placed his other hand under my chin, making me look up at him. “Hmm.. you seem more tired than I’d thought. I’ve taken quite the toll on you, haven’t I?” He chuckled to himself.
I couldn’t even bring myself to respond. I was caught up in the familiar sound of radio static that accompanied him everywhere, and that mixed with the sound of his voice was just like listening to his radio show before bed. I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch a bit, something was making my anger and frustration melt away. Maybe I was just that tired. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that Alastors eyes were green rather than their usual red when I closed my eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to care if he was using his magic on me.
“Relax, darling,” he said, moving me around. He pulled me up with the chains, so my back against his chest and my head was leaning on his shoulder. I didn’t resist. There was such a nice pattern to the sound of the static and how it matched the rhythm of whatever he was muttering under his breath. I tried to open my eyes to see him again, to see if his eyes were green, but he covered my eyes with his hand before I could. “Come now, that’s not important anymore. You need rest.”
He kept me against him and snapped his fingers- he’d gotten rid of the chains- and in a moment, we were in my room. I could tell due to the distinct smell of deer carcass. He probably used his little shadow-teleportation trick. He paused his muttering for a moment and moved to let go of me. I nearly collapsed, relaxed to the point my legs felt like jelly. He quickly caught me, sighed, then chuckled and set me down in a chair. He left me there and a little later (after some very loud sounds of ripping and tearing apart flesh and a certain sense of unease that only arose when Alastor was in his demon form) the smell of dead deer was gone.
“Hmm… I suppose you were right, it wasn’t the best food I could’ve given you,” he said, pulling me up and out of my seat again. “It was rude of me to leave it here on the floor, too. I really should remember my manners next time.” He carried me to my bed and set me down in his lap.
“Mmnn,” I mumbled lightly.
He laughed and used his fingers to turn my lips upwards, into a smile. “You’re so much more peaceful than before! I take it you’re enjoying my little spell?” He let go, but a small smile remained on my face. “My, my, you really are tired. Such a relaxed and happy little thing, aren’t you?”
He shifted his position, as if leaning over to my nightstand. I heard him sigh, then snap his finger again. A few moments later, the radio- my radio- was playing some tunes. He’d brought it back in for me.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t get rid of my gifts, you know,” he said, quieter. He ran his fingers through my hair as I grew more and more tired and closer to sleep. “I know you need the radio to rest, it’s apart of our contract. To ensure your dependency on me. You remember, don’t you?”
“Mhm..” I said, hardly audible.
“Good. Don’t forget you need me,” he said, a bit more stern. “I may be rude and I may hurt you, but at the end of the day I’ll protect you all the same. Nobody else is allowed to hurt you, so I’d say it’s a fair trade. It’s moments like these that make up for my own nasty behavior, I think.”
I didn’t reply, I just tried to hum along to the radio. I was nodding off, leaning against him as I sat in his lap, my head against his chest. He laughed at this and hummed along with me, still running his fingers through my hair. I began to trail off in my own humming and my breathing slowed. Finally, I dozed off.
“I like this,” Alastor said to himself. He stayed with me espite the fact I was asleep. “I like seeing you so peaceful, knowing I’m the reason behind it. I like spending time with you. It’s why I was so frustrated when you began skipping meals, you know. I wish we had moments like these more often.” He paused for a moment, and ran his fingers along my face. “I’m sorry, for hurting you earlier. I don’t think you deserved it.” He sighed and held me close to him. “I like this,” he said again. “I like this.”
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