Tumgik
#i draw him more than my own oops
gothicakvtagawa · 5 months
Note
Meta menace ??? Akutagawa enjoyer ???????? HELLOOOOOO akutagawa is my scringly Dingle. I humbly ask for your thoughts on the he
Tumblr media
take a cozy akutagawa in return
akutagawa is like a stress toy for me whenever i get too worked up about something i take him in my hands and squish him until all his insides become outsides and he starts making sense to me
i’m so normal about him i swear bless you and thanks for the cozy aku he’s perfect and precious <3
i’ve been thinking a lot lately about manga!akutagawa and how honest he is. he’s so introspective and so like, weirdly genuine and sincere in everything that he does, even when those things are. yknow. murder and such. he has all the traits of a traditionally ‘good’ person and it’s only that someone has moulded him to direct those traits for darker purposes. i just keep thinking about his weird little heart-to-hearts with atsushi, the way he admits his illness (only to atsushi—and importantly after atsushi has opened up to him in return about his hallucinations, which akutagawa specifically does not respond to with cruelty or mockery) and that he’s thought about what he might want to say when he dies—which he knows is sooner than later, brightest candles burn fastest after all—only to learn in the moment, as many do i’m sure, that words mean nothing when he could be saving the life of someone who, for better or worse, does genuinely see him for who and what he is
(relatedly i think there’s this idea that atsushi doesn’t see akutagawa as human until he dies—i don’t exactly agree. atsushi’s not really like that, you know? i think the problem that atsushi has to come to terms with after akutagawa sacrifices himself is that maybe, perhaps, there was something in akutagawa that was capable of change that he didn’t believed existed until that moment, which might be worse actually. having a rival who you profess to stand opposite on all things is all well and good until that rival proves himself of moving in directions other than lateral)
i think about his soft little smile constantly, how lonely he is, how desperate he is for any sort of validation. he’s a hypocrite but he’s honest—‘no one gives you the right to live’ and ‘the words of your past are fundamentally meaningless’ but only when it’s not akutagawa, right? everything is mutable except when it comes to himself, right? he keeps his promises but i wonder if he’s aware of how important that is for his growth—this thing that doesnt change, this steadfastness and honesty (while used for cruel purposes), ultimately being the instrument of his change and even demise. he would be alive if he did not keep his promises. he would not change if he didn’t keep his promises. he wouldn’t be akutagawa if he didn’t keep his promises.
if it turns out that the akutagawa we see in the last minute of s5e11 is not in fact our dear skrunkly i am going to combust into dust, i promise, i love him so so much, i think he has so much potential and he deserves to move forward in his arc and i hope we get to see it happen!!
8 notes · View notes
hyungszn · 7 months
Text
trial & error | ft. bang chan
Tumblr media
summary; chan’s been pretty skittish about fucking you. luckily, his stupidly big dick doesn’t scare you.
rating; e for explicit
pairing; bang chan x reader
author’s note; chan, my guy, my dude.. i’m so sorry. if you ever come across this, just know that i’m mentally ill!!! sorry. i’m repenting to god as we speak 🥲 i got carried away as per usual. sorry ‘bout it. chan is also a lil ooc in my opinion but, fiction is fiction. also written in drafts so not sure how long this actually is— oops. tagging @hwanghyunjinenthusiast & @cbini because i’m evil like that <333
warnings; first and foremost: bang chan and a serious, life threatening case of massive cock, dirty talk, daddy kink, copious amounts of body fluids, wap!reader, shy!chan -> daddy!chan, first time together, implications of both dom and subspace, reader is called: baby, baby girl, princess, and the like, chan is called: chan, channie, chris, and daddy, chan’s self-sacrificial tendencies, chan’s people pleaser complex, insecurity, reader is GREEDY and EAGER, chan gets his nut off screen, spit, uh.. i think that’s all?
Tumblr media
chan’s body is juxtaposed to his mind, making him pause where he’s kneeled between your spread thighs. physically, he’s far past ready — cock harder than a diamond, jutting out proudly from its place between his hips and his brown eyes glued to the tiny, winking hole that you’ve bared to him. mentally, he’s paralyzed — forced to give himself a pep talk because he knows for certain that it’d be so, so easy to tear that teeny, tiny hole up without even trying.
“it’s so tiny,” he whispers, thumb reaching out to rub over your dripping entrance. “what if i hurt you?”
you whine and that little hole clamps down, threatening to suckle the tip of his thumb right inside. you know that he’s trying to be careful with you; he’s made several remarks about how you would never have to sleep with him if you didn’t want to. chan’s size has always been controversial at best and he knows from experience that a lot of girls would prefer to try their hand at sucking him off rather than letting him fuck them. and well, chan gets it — truly, he does — but that has never stopped him from sulking whenever he‘d get sent home with blue balls. again.
what chan doesn’t know is that it’s less about proving a point on your end and more about finally getting to come on that pretty dick of his. he’s left you high and sopping more times than you can count with his unparalleled dirty talk and general sex appeal. logically, you’re aware that most of it is likely unintentional, but after six months of dating without even so much as a petty game of ‘just the tip’, you’re one poor excuse away from taking matters into your own hands, tying him up, and using him like a human-dildo.
“w-won’t hurt me, ch-channie,” you reassure, wiggling your hips in an attempt to entice him into action. “i’m so wet for you; you feel it, right? can’t hurt me like this.”
he does — feel it, that is. your pussy drools steadily against the pad of his thumb, slick folds curving around the rest of it. if he taps at it, the puddles of slick makes little, wet, popping noises; a true testament to how aroused you are. it makes part of him want to bend just a little further so he can scoop your slick up with his tongue, but he knows you’re far too impatient for that right now.
“channie,” you beg, getting antsy, “chris.”
he sucks in a breath at the use of a shortened version his given name, eyes finally drawing away from your cunt. his gaze catches yours and you try to keep your expression open, allowing his to see the look of desperation that’s overtaken your face.
“please f-fuck me,” you whimper, tears gathering at your lash line, “i’ve waited so long. been so good, channie.”
the flush that was covering his cheeks and the tips of his ears spreads down his neck at your begging. his dick hasn’t flagged the slightest bit in the last half hour and he surely hasn’t come, but hearing your incessant babbling has him feeling light headed like he’s on the verge of being overstimulated. it works in your favor though, spurring him into action like you wanted. after what feels like ages, you watch chan lean forward on his knees, using the hand that isn’t helping to keep him upright to rub the tip of his cock through all the wet that’s gathered between your legs.
your mouth drops open when you feel the head meet your entrance and it takes every ounce of self control that you have to keep yourself from forcing the entire length of him inside your cunt. you remain still instead, spine curving as you pick your head up from the pillow and look down, locking onto the sight of chan’s cock poised for entry.
“i’ll go slow,” chan promises, waiting for your eager nod and when it comes, you’re left to look up at him with a slack jaw and furrowed brows as he presses inward with his hips, successfully stretching you open around the girth of his dick.
“oh my god,” you pant, hands slapping down against the mattress, “f-fuck.”
“a-almost,” he pants in return, a little out of his mind from the feel of you, “tip’s almost in, baby, jus’ relax for me, yeah?”
your hands wrap around chan’s lithe thighs as he continues to press into you, squeezing the flesh and muscle harshly as he works you open. he has to grit his teeth against the bite of your nails in his skin, jaw clenched tightly to keep himself grounded. it takes a moment, but he can’t deny the elation he feels when the tightness of your pussy finally gives way the smallest bit, enclosing the head of his dick in nothing but warm, wet silk. the action cause you to squeal and jolt, breathing heavily as sweat threatens to build on your skin. chan doesn’t dare move, wide, brown eyes too focused on the scrunch of your face for him to try and let you have the rest. it’s clearly the wrong choice though, especially if your squirming hips and pitiful mewls are meant to be any sort of clue.
“chris, chris,” you babble, impatiently trying to fuck your tight, little cunt onto his length, “c’mon, c’mon.”
“easy, baby,” he says, disbelief in his tone when he watches himself sink deeper.
thanks to all your wriggling, you’ve managed to get another inch or so inside you, face contorting and hurt-sounding whines tumbling from your mouth one after the other. you don’t stop trying to move even when chan places heavy hands palm side down on the insides of your thighs to hold you still. all that seems to be good for is making you pout and sob, pretty mouth begging for more despite the slight flashes of discomfort chan can see in your expression. still, he puts his best effort forth in trying to prevent you from hurting yourself too much, deciding to ease out a few centimeters only to push them right back in again.
that little thrust is what breaks the damn, causing you to turn your wild eyes up to chan like he’s hung the damn moon. he swears he can feel your cunt grow wetter from just that one, tiny movement and he watches first hand the way your pupils dilate further and swallow up your iris. you’re clenching, silken walls doing their best to suck greedily at his shaft. he has to bite the flesh of his bottom lip to clear his head, taking a moment to pray for any amount of restraint that god is willing to spare him because he has half a mind to throw all caution to the wind and split your pretty ass open like you’ve been gagging for.
its a true feat, but he manages to remain decently composed. a part of him thinks he should be given a medal, knowing the weakest of men would have caved to their desire a long, long time ago. the composure he’s adopted is threadbare though, if he allows himself to be honest; it’s not really his fault. there’s no denying how incredibly sexy you look when his cock is spearing you open.
“f-fuckin’ big, channie,” you gasp wetly.
he laughs, tight and breathy, continuing to fuck into you slowly and shallowly. “i know, princess. i told you so, but’cha just don’t listen, do ya?”
“n-no,” you confirm, “wanted it so bad. needed it.”
the fact that you still need it goes unsaid. you can feel your walls gripping at chan’s cock, trying to keep him in every time he pulls his hips back. you doubt you’re even taking half his dick at this point, but he’s so damn thick — so fucking long — that it feels like so much more. even still, the size of his dick doesn’t stop your cunt from slicking up eagerly. if anything, the stretch appears to only turn you on more, wetness trickling out with every push and pull of chan’s hips.
a few moments pass, filled with nothing other than the sounds of your staccato moans and the slight creaking of the mattress. chan takes this time to admire the bounce of your tits that occurs with each thrust, the hardened peaks of your nipples and the expanse of your cute, soft tummy making him feel delirious. everything about you drives him crazy, from the curve of your shoulders to the spread of your thighs as they fold over your hips. when your gaze catches his, you fix him with a small, cute, fucked out smile and he finds himself needing to rail you stupid.
“g’na go deeper, ‘kay?”
“mhm, yeah,” you nod, licking your dry lips, “give it t’me.”
he does just that, sinking in a few more inches before pulling out again. the pace he adopts is a little quicker this go around; it’s definitely not as fast as you’re sure he could move, but fast enough that you can hear your noisy cunt as it leaks around chan’s girth. you feel like you’re floating in the clouds, hands squeezing at the sheets and his thighs all the while. each time your eyes meet, all you can do is smile and moan, fighting to hold onto the threads of your sanity.
you sound so good — tiny, breathy ‘oh, oh!’s that drive chan crazy. he’s nearly shaking with the effort it takes to hold himself in check, but it’s worth it when he finally decides give you the entire length. your head spins when he does it, brain melting and liquefying out of your ears. one second you’re just getting used to half his cock and the next second, you’re aching, stuffed so full that you can feel him in the depths of your tummy.
the surprised squeal that leaves you causes chan to give you a grunt of his own. the pace of his movements have slowed once again but you can’t say you mind, not when you can watch him roll his hips in a way that fills you enough to make you cream. almost mindlessly, chan brings one hand to his mouth, licking the pad of his own thumb before bringing it back down to rub at your clit. the action literally takes your breath away, has you going cross eyed and dumb, babbling about how good it feels.
“hhhnn,” you gasp, angling your head to try and catch a peek of where you’re joined together, “your cock’s so big,” you mutter mindlessly, pussy squelching excitedly when chan’s hips nearly meet yours on one of his inward thrusts, “so fucking deep. so, so good.”
“yeah?” chan pants, his eyes rolling back in his own head at the blatant display of your own pleasure. he keeps a steady pressure on your clit, thumb circling the swollen flesh with practiced ease. “feels good now, baby?”
“mhm! feels s’good,” you slur out, “feels so good in my pussy.”
“shiiit,” chan drawls, hips jerking at your senseless speech. you’re so sexy when you feel good and he’s a little upset with himself for not letting you have his dick sooner. “can’t wait to make this pretty, little cunt come around me,” he murmurs, sounding desperate, “then i’ll just get to do it all over again.”
you can’t catch your breath; you know, even without proper brain function, that you’re on the brink of orgasm. you’re amazed by how quickly you get there, even though it’s long since been established that chan’s the most efficient lover you’ve had in the bedroom. he can make you come, quite literally, in eight minutes flat with nothing but his nose and tongue; it makes perfect sense that his dick is no exception. you’re so gone at this point that your mouth gets looser, undisclosed titles rolling off your tongue without care.
“daddy,” you whine, losing yourself when you begin fucking your hips back onto him in effort to catch every thrust. “yes, yes, yes. daddy, fuck!”
he doesn’t miss a single beat despite the slight shock. he’ll be your daddy, already wants to take care of you so it just feels right. you can be his princess, his little baby girl — his to hold, his to cherish; his to fuck within an inch of her life whenever he pleases. the thought sends him reeling, makes his chest flush and puff out simultaneously. you’re left to watch through the haze as he purses his lips, spit coming into view before he lets it fall to your clit, making your clit wetter and dulling the friction between your skin and his. you mewl at the warmth, cooing at the slip and slide of his thumb, slipping deeper into the fog, hooded eyes glued to chan’s.
“there you are,” chan coos back, shivering and looking at you adoringly. “there’s my princess. g’na come for daddy? show him how good he’s making you feel, yeah?”
“yes, yeah,” you say, accompanying your words with frantic nods that become jerkier and jerkier.
just when you think it can’t get any better, chan proves you wrong. you don’t have the brain cells to comprehend what exactly it is that he’s done, but it feels so good that you squeal, big eyes going unfocused as your orgasm threatens to take over. chan knows he’s in his zone, a special place he’s only gone to a handful of times. his pace picks up slightly, so in tune with your body as you writhe on the sheets. he barely comprehends when his thighs start doing all the work, making small bouncing motions that cause him to rub against your g-spot.
“oh my god,” comes your excited mewl, “i’m gonna come.”
there’s a pleased rumbling in his chest, one-track mind focused solely on your demise. “mm, do it then. come on my cock, baby. make daddy proud.”
“daddy. daddy, daddy, daddy,” you chant, eyes bouncing from his own, to his cock, to the ceiling. you’re so fucking cute, all stupid like this. “coming, coming, i’m coming!”
you jerk like a live wire when you finally come, pussy gushing and rippling around chan’s dick. a high pitch whimper leaves your lips and chan laughs, humming as he fucks you through it, prolonging the high a bit longer than you were expecting. you don’t know what time it is, or what day of the week, but you know you feel better than you’ve ever felt, tunnel vision for chan in the aftermath of your orgasm.
“that’s it,” he coos, daring to press all the way in once more just to see the evidence coating his cock when he pulls out. “good girl, took it so well for me.”
you’d preen if your mind weren’t so hazy, but chan knows you hear him. there’s a dopey smile stretched across your lips, your stretched out cunt still dripping and spasming. he’s surprised by his own ability to hold out, now painfully aware that his dick is still hard and leaking, partially sheathed inside your hot, little body. he’s coming out of his own fog, but you’re obviously still floating in yours. he doesn’t want to assume he can continue, but he hadn’t known that there’d be a need for the conversation in the first place either.
you blink slowly at him once you’ve been reduced to minute twitches and spasms. you vaguely register that chan’s still inside you, still hard and your brain tries hard to come back online. a tiny voice in the back of your mind calls for him, ‘daddy, daddy,’ it begs, demanding to be heard, ‘again, again!’
you aren’t even cognizant that you’re moving, canting your own hips up, back to square one and trying to take him all the way back inside your cunt. chan can only groan, body falling over yours and pushing his length back inside, stretching you out with his cock all over again. your eyes roll back, disappearing behind your fluttering eyelids as you accept him, gripping the sheets with a tiny giggle of content.
‘full, full, full,’ the voice chants, elated.
“i w-won’t last long,” chan admits, inflection if shame in his tone. “you’re too wet, too fucking tight.”
“don’t care,” you croak, body moving on its own. “want you, again.”
you’re moving in what feels to be slow motion as you encase him in your thighs and arms, mouth pressing to the ball of his shoulder. it’s pretty detrimental for his health — he’s already strung tight from making you come undone. now you’re wrapped around him? all soft, warm, and inviting? wanting his (humbly) big cock fucking your little pussy until he comes? until you come again?
“fuck, baby,” he groans, burying his face in your sweaty neck as he starts to build up a rhythm again. “okay. whatever you want. whatever daddy’s baby needs.”
he’s rambling, strokes moderately paced and so deep, sliding into spaces that you didn’t know could be stimulated. the fog takes you again, but you welcome it, happy to be consumed as long as you’re held in chan’s capable hands. you trust him with your life, so relinquishing your body is ridiculously easy.
in the recesses of your mind, you strive to make him feel as good as you do. getting to come on that beautiful, god-sent cock a second time — after months of trial and error — is just a bonus.
Tumblr media
© hyungszn 2023; please do not copy, steal, repost, modify, translate, or recommend on any other platform without my permission!
3K notes · View notes
leaentries · 4 months
Text
desperate | luke hughes
summary: luke’s girl has never had someone go down on her and he’d be damned if he didn’t change that
i believe this was a request but has been in my drafts for months...oops
warnings: smut, oral (f. receiving), teasing, begging, swearing
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Fuck, Luke.” You moaned into his lips. His hands gripped your thighs, perched on either side of his lap. You tugged at his thick curls as he trailed his lips down your jaw. He placed hot, wet kisses, making sure to leave a mark. 
Luke’s hands traveled up your legs, grasping at your hips. He pulled you further into him, the feeling of his throbbing cock pressed against your core. His lips continued their assault downward, sucking between the valley of your breasts. 
You tightly grabbed Luke’s broad shoulders, nails leaving angry red crescents in their wake. His light groans echoed in your ears. He began to work his way back up, dragging his tongue up the column of your neck. Luke pulled away to meet your blown-out eyes with his own. His chest was heaving with anticipation. 
“I want to go down on you.” He blurted. Your eyes widened in shock, but the surprise was soon replaced with the timid batting of your lashes. Luke took note of the flush that covered your cheeks and ears. You swallowed thickly. 
“I’ve, uh, I’ve never had someone go down on me.” You hushed out quickly. It was now Luke’s turn to be shocked. His eyebrows furrowed. 
“So you’re telling me no one has ever made you cum on their tongue before?”  His crude words made your skin ignite with new desire. Fantasies of Luke’s tongue deep in your cunt flashed through your mind. Your breath picked up, which did not go unnoticed by Luke.
A comforting smile made home on his swollen lips, “I promise I’ll take good care of you, baby. I just want to taste you, I bet you taste like fucking candy.” Luke swiftly flipped you over, laying you down gently. 
Sensing the uncertainty in your eyes, Luke reached to lock your fingers with his. “We don’t have to do anything, angel. Not if you aren’t comfortable.”  You shook your head. 
“No, I want to. I-I’m just a bit nervous, that's all.” Luke placed a long, reassuring kiss on your lips. 
“Okay, but if you want me to stop, tell me immediately.” He gave you a slight stare, before quickly removing his shirt. You just nodded in response, mouth going dry at the sight of his toned abdomen. You reached up to drag your hand over the ripples of hard muscle, taking note of every freckle and mark he had. 
Luke’s heavy-lidded eyes bore into your own, an unknown flame dancing within the dark pools. He let his fingertips graze from your breasts down, goosebumps rising through each pass. Your hands gripped the sheets by your sides as he reached your panties. 
He hooked his fingers through them, slowly slipping them down your legs. He didn’t fail to let his hands drag along the naked skin, sending volts straight to your core. After drawing your feet through, he placed a chaste kiss to the top of each ankle, marking his ascent up your calves. 
Luke’s lips dragged teasingly up your thighs, which began to clench out of desperation. 
“No, no, angel. Gotta keep those pretty thighs open for me.” He sucked in a harsh breath as you obeyed his demand, eyes glued to your glistening core.
 “Fuck me.” You heard him growl lowly, “Such a pretty pussy, all wet for me.” 
His words sent waves of electricity through your entire body. Your weeping hole pulsated at the lack of attention, wanting nothing more than Luke to bury his tongue deep inside. Your hips bucked pathetically, begging Luke to help. 
“Please, Lukey. I need you so bad.” You whined, becoming restless at his hands that traveled in dangerous patterns around where you needed him most. 
He took his lip between his teeth, burying a deep groan that threatened to escape his throat. The sounds of your whimpers making his cock twitch against his shorts. 
“Why don’t you ask me nicely, angel. Tell me what you want.” He lowered his face to your dripping core, as more whines left your mouth.
“Please, please Luke! I, fuck,” you panted, “I need your tongue inside me.”
“See? Now that wasn’t so hard.” Luke wasted no time before attaching his lips to your swollen clit. Your back arched as searing pleasure plagued your mind.
“Shit! Lukey,” Almost pornographic moans left your body as you became unable to control your voice.
The sound of Luke’s mouth slurping at your aching cunt filled the room. His tounge danced in circles around your slit, sucking with just the right amount of pressure to drive you insane.
Your eyes rolled back as you brought your hands to Luke’s hair, gripping onto the curls for some grounding. His hands wrapped around your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer. His tongue brutally plunged in and out of your entrance.
Your slick pooled around his mouth, causing him to move with ease. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding into his mouth, helping to ride his tongue.
Luke lifted for a moment, chin covered in arousal. His darkened eyes met yours in a heated match, before he returned his swollen, damp lips to your puffy clit.
Fire swelled in your lower belly, signaling the build of your impending orgasm. You dug your heels into Luke’s lower back as you trapped him between your legs.
Luke reached up with his right hand to intertwine it with your own.
Teetering on the edge, your cunt spasmed around him.
“Gonna cum for me, angel?” He looked up, gazing through his lashes while continuing his abuse to your clit, “Make a mess on my face, pretty girl. I know you can.”
The vibrations of his words were just enough to tip you over. The grip you had on his hand got tighter as your hips arched into his face. White-hot pleasure blinded your senses. Your ears rung as you felt your climax hit you.
Your eyes rolled back once more as your body twitched with orgasmic bliss. Luke continued to devour your cunt until you began to whine from overstimulation.
He pulled back, panting as he sat on his feet. Luke rested his hands on your knees, rubbing soothing circles into your, now sore, legs.
“You’re okay, angel.” He moved around to lay next to you, “Come back to me, baby.” Luke cradled your body, placing sweet kisses on your head until you came down from your high.
As your breath began to even out, you could only say one thing, “Holy fuck.”
1K notes · View notes
writingpastmybedtime · 2 months
Text
Cinderella AU
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x f!Reader
Summary: The classic Cinderella AU. It's heavily inspired by the Disney live-action remake, but with a few tweaks here and there.
Word Count: 8k, oops..?
Warnings: None, except for extra cute Prince Sebastian.
A/N: It’s my first time writing for Seb at this length & I'm kind of proud of how it turned out. Oh, and I gave Sebastian the nickname 'Bash'. Hope you love it as much as I do!<3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Once upon a time, or however the story begins, there lived a girl named Y/N. She was the most beautiful thing in her parents’ eyes and held the kindest heart. They lived happily in a secluded small mansion. They weren’t the richest per se, but they could keep up with the house and even had a few workers in the kitchen and garden. 
As time went by, the girl discovered a passion for music and playing the piano. Her sweet melodies often graced the halls of the house, and whenever she wasn’t behind the piano, she had her face buried deep in a journal, writing down every last thought that had occurred to her that day.
Alas, the time that had passed had also come bearing sombre news. The little girl’s mother had fallen ill with a disease so rare, there was nothing left to do but wait. Those three months spent waiting were the hardest for the girl, as she was always staying beside her mother’s bed, reading to her, brushing her hair, and playing lovely tunes on the piano to soothe her mother’s mind. 
It wasn’t until one night, that the clock in the writing room, which her mother so deeply loved, stopped working and the house suddenly grew more quiet.
Years passed, and Y/N grew even more beautiful. She was always happy and kind, helping out everyone around the house and being there for her father. Y/N’s father was a merchant, so it was not uncommon that he had many trips abroad and many foreign friends. He had a certain way with him, his friends even called him a man of many words. He always found a way to insert an inspirational quote into whatever conversation was going on. His personal favourite, however, was a quote about courage. 
Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.
“Darling, would you accompany me to the garden?” Her father asked her. Of course, she followed him with a smile on her face. He began to tell her of a widowed woman, with two daughters just a few years older than Y/N. He explained that he’d known the woman's late husband, having met him many times on his travels. 
“They need a place to stay and they need a sense of security,” he began shyly, before continuing. “I think I can offer them that, I think we can offer them that.”
Y/N smiled as she took her father's hands in hers. “Father, if it’s something that would make you happy, it would make me even happier.” He smiled at her and pulled her into a hug.
Madam Deveraux was a widowed noblewoman with two daughters, Arabella and Isadora. The Madam herself was mostly reserved and you could never tell what she was thinking just by looking at her. Her gaze always remained strong, even when the death of her dear husband crushed her spirit. As months passed after the tragic death, the demeanour of Madam Deveraux changed. Once just a composed and modest lady, was now hardened at heart, with only one true goal. To see her two daughters succeed and be wed off to rich husbands, no matter the cost.
Arabella, the eldest daughter was certainly pretty on the eyes, however, she had a mouth to her that diminished her beauty to a certain degree. Never afraid to speak her mind and even once in a while throw in a more vulgar term here or there. She was fascinated with all kinds of different adult romance books - that’s where she probably learned those indecent phrases. She also loved to draw, but truth be told, she wasn’t really any good at it.
Isadora, like her sister, was also beautiful in her own way. She certainly wasn’t as crude as her sister, but still had a peculiar sense of self. Her ego was probably the biggest between the three of them. Every reflective surface she saw made her gaze at herself longingly, always fixing her hair or makeup. Always whispering sweet affirmations to herself. She knew she was the prettiest person, whenever she walked into a crowded room. Even if the snobby personality sometimes made her mother’s eyes roll.
After a few weeks, it was time again for Y/N’s father to take his leave. Y/N felt crushed, and a sense of dread filled her heart, making her father promise that he’d return.
Unfortunately, on his travels back from overseas, Y/N’s father fell ill and was never able to return to her. It saddened her deeply, but due to her chores, given to her by her step-mother, she didn’t have time to dwell on her grief. 
Months passed, with her chores growing bigger and bigger. She had given up her bedroom because Arabella and Isadora were too cramped up in their own smaller one. Unfortunately for Y/N, instead of getting the smaller room for herself, she had to stay in a storage room right next to the kitchen. It wasn’t the most tedious place to be, for someone somewhere must’ve had to have even worse living conditions. That thought kept her appreciating her commodities and trying to tidy up the tiny storage room as best as she could.
“Y/N, could you be a dear and help your sisters with their dresses?” Madam Deveraux’s cold voice could be heard from upstairs, as Y/N was just finishing up setting the table in the kitchen. Sighing, but still with a smile on her face, the girl walked upstairs to assist her step-sisters. Arabella was tugging Isadora’s corset, to make it more tight, as Isadora was standing near the mirror letting out gasps of air. 
“A little bit of help, please?” Isadora asked in her saccharine voice, looking at Y/N through her mirror. Y/N nodded and took over from Arabella, pulling and pulling until the corset was perfectly on Isadora’s body. 
“Hmm, I look good, don’t you think so?” Isadora spun around, now in her huge pink sparkling dress, which did not do her beauty any justice. Y/N, however, was not one to judge. She just smiled lightly and nodded. 
“Pfft, as if you had any sense of style,” Isadora went to grab her rings, before putting them on her dainty fingers. Her brown hair was curled in an updo and she had put on a plethora of perfume, that was way too sweet, but ironically, fit her perfectly.
“Hah, you’re right sissy, this wench does not know anything about fashion. I mean look at how she’s dressed right now.” Arabella looked at Y/N from head to toe, her face grimacing. Y/N lowered her head to look at her grey dress. Yes, it wasn’t as fancy as the gowns on her step-sisters, but it had belonged to her mother. The grey dress made her feel some kind of sanity, running around doing chores for the Deverauxs’. Picking invisible lint from the pocket of her skirt, the step-sisters just laughed at how humiliated Y/N looked.
“Yes, you do look absolutely atrocious as of late,” Isadora smirked as Arabella grinned, taking joy in embarrassing Y/N. “You’re just plain ugly,” the eldest sister managed to get out before laughing.
“Here, take this, go buy yourself something prettier,” Isadora scoffed as she handed Y/N three silver pieces. You could not get anything fairly pretty with that kind of sum. Y/N had given up on pretty dresses a while ago, being content with the ones her mother had left her. She shook her head at the silver coins, not accepting the pity donation. 
“Fine have it your way, I was just trying to be nice,” Isadora threw the silver pieces on the floor as Arabella snorted in an unladylike manner. “Now leave, as I remember correctly Mama wanted you to go down to the forest to pick up some flowers for the gathering tonight.”
Y/N nodded to the girls, before hastily leaving the room, blinking back tears. She had grown accustomed to their derogatory comments, but that didn’t mean a part of her always ached at their remarks. Never had she been anything, but good and friendly towards the girls and their mother. She shook her head, as if to shake it clear from the depressing thoughts and picked up a dark-brown wooden basket from the kitchen table.
The walk from the house to the forest was always Y/N’s favourite. As soon as the house with the hectic people inside of it disappeared from her field of view, a certain kind of calmness filled Y/N. It was as if she could finally breathe without restrictions. Even the world around her seemed a little bit more saturated. Birds were flying around, singing their beautiful songs; it was spring after all. Y/N started to hum a melody she used to love to play the most on her piano.
Y/N twirled around and smiled, suddenly feeling joyous and elated. She closed her eyes, still twirling, liking the feel of the afternoon sun on her face. A total bliss. Suddenly, when taking her last twirl, she felt her foot get stuck on a tree root and braced herself for a fall.
However, the fall did not come. 
Instead, strong hands had grasped her waist, holding her a few centimetres off the ground. Y/N finally opened her eyes, the sun making her squint a little before finally her vision was back in focus. She was looking into blue eyes. Into the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever seen. Serene, deep blue eyes, that she could get lost in. That she did get lost in.
“Miss, are you alright?” Y/N blinked, before realising the man was still holding her. She stumbled to get out of his grasp, before wiping her dress from invisible dirt. Her cheeks flushed pink, suddenly feeling embarrassed. 
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you..?” Y/N said, waiting for the person’s name to finish her sentence. To thank him personally. She now had time to look at the man that had so gracefully caught her. He had brown medium-length hair, which seemed abnormally soft and Y/N wished she could tread her fingers through it. The man smiled, no grinned rather, and Y/N was taken aback by how handsome this stranger looked.
“You really don’t know who I am?” The man chuckled and Y/N shook her head quizzically. Was she supposed to know him? She browsed through her brain, wondering who this man could be; maybe she’d met him before. But no, she’d remember him. She could never forget those eyes.
Y/N saw a peculiar look in his gaze before his grin grew even bigger and he introduced himself. “My name’s Bash,” he said, and Y/N furrowed her brows, but smiling nonetheless. 
“That’s a peculiar name,” she spoke, before realising her comment was nowhere near acceptable nor did it come off as friendly. The man, Bash, as she’d learned, let out a genuine laugh at the comment. Y/N felt embarrassed and was about to apologise before he stopped her.
“I like your candour,” he smirked. “It’s actually a nickname. A name that my father calls me whenever I haven’t done anything to upset him.” Y/N smiled, no longer feeling embarrassed, but just a little bit of something else. A strange warm feeling was creeping up in her chest. 
“Well, thank you, Bash, for catching me. And I’m sorry you even had to, I’m not normally so clumsy.”
“It’s no problem, besides, what even is a beautiful girl like you doing out in these woods anyway?” Bash asked, not being able to take his eyes off Y/N. He’d never seen a girl so beautiful before. And ‘beautiful’ was not even enough to describe her. 
“Oh, I’m just on my way to get flowers for a party later on. Which does remind me, that I should be on my way,” Y/N looked down at her basket, which she hadn’t fortunately dropped, when she had stumbled. Realisation hit her then, that he’d called her beautiful, but she couldn’t believe it. Perhaps she’d heard wrong?
“Do you work nearby?” Bash asked, his eyes still admiring her own. He did not want to leave her this soon after just meeting. But her duty called and truth be told, so did his. He wasn’t even supposed to be out here. He was out riding with his horse when suddenly he heard the most beautiful voice humming somewhere nearby. Having left his horse a few metres behind, was when he finally saw her. She was twirling and twirling and completely not noticing the tree root that was about to make her fall on the next twirl. Thankfully, he was fast and had caught her on time. 
“Yes, I do. Are you from around here as well?” Y/N asked politely. Knowing that she should be going now, but his eyes were just too mesmerising, to not look away from, that she stayed grounded.
“I actually work at the castle,” he said, his eyes turning pink as if he was embarrassed about the notion. Y/N smiled at that. “Must be nice,” she thought out loud, as Bash just shook his head at her comment.
“Depending on the day, it can be a little bit too much sometimes.” Y/N nodded at that, trying to understand what it must be like working amidst hundreds of people. Working for royalty.
“Well, it’s like my father always taught me,” she began as she gave him the sweetest smile. “Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.” Bash raised his eyebrow at that. “And do you feel like that?” 
“Huh?”
“Do you feel seen?” He inquired, and Y/N shrugged. The question was raw - she hadn’t expected that. Did she feel seen? No, not as of late. But she couldn’t tell him that, now could she? She noticed the sun had turned just a tiny bit more golden and felt fear rush through her. She was supposed to be making supper for the Deverauxs and their guests.
“Look, it’s been wonderful having this chat with you, but I really must take my leave,” she nodded to him, taking her basket and turning around, completely forgetting about the flowers. 
Bash felt a tinge of sadness in him, before nodding and giving her a final smile. “Well, it was wonderful making your acquaintance. I hope to see you again someday.” Y/N turned around at his voice. She nodded, grinning at him.
“So do I.”
“Soon,” Bash said and saw Y/N blush, before finally taking her leave. 
She found some wild poppies just behind the house and hoped they’d do. Fortunately, Madam Deveraux only gave her a quizzical look, before dismissing her. She took a breath, thanking the gods that her step-mother did not freak out over the flower arrangement. All evening as she was making supper for everyone, her thoughts went back to the kind stranger she’d met. 
Bash.
Tumblr media
Y/N was browsing through the city fair, currently looking at new books she wished she could buy when suddenly a horn was heard above in the upper city. She glanced up from the booth towards the sound, seeing everyone gathering around.
“Hear ye, hear ye,” a man in a formal outfit began. Behind him stood many other men, dressed the same.
These were men from the castle, she concluded. Her thoughts went to Bash for a second, before focusing back on the man giving out the information.
“As requested by His Royal Highness, Prince Sebastian, there is to be a ball, for two weeks hence, in honour of him choosing a bride. As per his wishes, the ball is open to everyone in the country.”
Squeals and cheers were coming from every corner of the city at the news. Y/N suddenly felt very happy. Maybe this was her chance to see Bash again in the castle, after all, he did say he worked there.
Having made her way back home, she rushed to Madam Deveraux, who was sitting in the living room with Arabella and Isadora. The latter was playing the piano. Correction, trying to play, for Y/N, did not know it was possible to make that kind of noise on the delicate instrument.
“What has gotten you in a rush? Your dress is all dirty again,” Arabella scrunched her face, clearly disgusted by Y/N’s clothing once again.
“I was just in the city when they announced there is to be a ball in two weeks as the Prince is to finally choose a bride. It’s open to everyone.” She smiled as she saw Madam Deveraux jump up from the couch, her daughters following her. Suddenly they screamed and the two girls jumped around.
“I’m going to be the new princess,” Isadora squealed before Arabella nudged her on the shoulder.
“No, I am!” Arabella insisted before Madam Deveraux made them quiet down.
“Y/N, you have to go into town and get three beautiful dresses,” Madam Deveraux smiled at her, a new prosperous future in mind for her daughters. She knew they had to look their best to catch the eye of the Prince.
“Yes, yes I will. Thank you for letting me come with you.” Y/N said as she was about to leave back to the city, her mind joyous and excited. Madam Deveraux had finally accepted her as part of the family and she got to go to the ball as well.
“Come with us?” Madam Deveraux scoffed and raised her eyebrow. “Why in the seven hells do you think you’re coming with us?”
Y/N started to say something before she was rudely cut off.
“Nuh, uh-uh.” Madam Deveraux pointed her finger at Y/N. “You do not belong at events like these. You will not go, I forbid you.” 
Y/N felt tears in her eyes, not understanding why she was being so mean to her. 
“Oh, Mama, look. You’ve made the duckling cry.” Arabella snickered and Isadora laughed.
“But why? All I’ve ever done is be nice to you. I do all these chores, you ask of me, and more.” Y/N started shaking but was reluctant to let out real tears. They cannot see me cry, she thought to herself.
“Have you ever considered that you’re maybe just not enough? Not enough pretty, not enough smart,” Madam Deveraux took steps toward Y/N, placing a finger under her jaw, pulling Y/N to look at her. “You’re no one.” Madam Deveraux turned away, before muttering instructions that Y/N was to buy dresses for the three of them the following day.
Tumblr media
TWO WEEKS LATER
After helping the Deveraux sisters into their beautiful ball gowns and doing their hair, Y/N watched them leave in a big beige carriage. Letting her shoulders shrug, she finally let out the tears she’d been holding in. Y/N had hoped to visit the ball as well, hoping to see the blue-eyed man who had taken over her thoughts.
Y/N heard footsteps behind her and her name being called, before turning around and seeing Anastasia, an older lady that she’d known all of her life. Anastasia was a neighbour, a lovely woman, who always took care of Y/N whenever it was needed. Anastasia did not like the way Madam Deveraux had started treating Y/N after her father died and even offered to let Y/N move in with her. However, Y/N always passed the opportunity down, saying that she made a promise to her mother and father to look after the house.
“My dear,” Anastasia came closer, taking Y/N’s hand and seeing the tear trails on her face. “Why are you not at the ball? Everyone’s invited.” 
Y/N shook her head, before explaining that Madam Deveraux had forbidden her to attend the event. Anastasia pursed her lips, before muttering, more to herself than to Y/N.
“This will not do,” then louder, “this will not do at all.” She grabbed Y/N’s arm and started pulling her towards her house which was just a few minutes further away. “You will go to the ball, end of story.”
“But how? I have no horse to take me, let alone a carriage. Nor do I have a dress that is suitable for this kind of event.” Y/N saw Anastasia grin, before ushering her faster towards her house.
“Have courage, dear one. I will make sure you get everything.”
And just as Anastasia said, Y/N had it all. Anastasia was a well-endowed lady, who did not have the joy of getting to raise a daughter of her own. No, she was instead blessed with three sons. So it was mere luck, and perhaps a little bit of something else, that Anastasia had a beautiful periwinkle blue dress in her closet waiting to be worn. It fit Y/N perfectly as if it was made only for her to wear.
Anastasia did Y/N’s hair next, whilst explaining that she’d already talked with her personal chauffeur, who was to take Y/N to the ball. 
“I cannot begin to thank you enough, Lady Anastasia,” Y/N had tears in her eyes, although this time they were there for another reason. Gratitude.
“Oh, stop it, dear. I’ve told you a thousand times to not call me that, it makes me feel old,” she grimaced, before helping Y/N into the carriage. As Y/N took a step, Anastasia saw her shoes, which looked worn out and definitely didn't go along with the dress. She muttered something under her breath, before looking at Y/N again.
“There’s something in a box inside the carriage. Make use of them. And make sure to dance.” Y/N furrowed her brows, trying to understand, before she took her seat and felt the carriage take off slowly. “But wait, what about Madam Deveraux and the step-sisters? Won’t they recognize me?” Y/N asked worriedly, looking back at the kind woman.
“Oh, don’t worry about something so trivial, my dear, it’s already been taken care of,” Anastasia winked, before remembering, “and before I forget, try to return at midnight. I cannot explain why, but it’s imperative that you do so. You have to be back when the clock strikes twelve.” With a smile, Anastasia stayed behind, waving at Y/N. 
Y/N was a bit confused, even more so when she opened the box that was on the seat in front of her. Beautiful shoes, made out of iridescent glass, were inside the box. She gasped when she took one in her hand, not even feeling the weight of it, expecting it to be heavier. She slipped off her slippers, before trying on the glass shoes. 
They fit perfectly. As if these shoes, just like the dress, were made just for her. Maybe Anastasia was a witch? No, that sounds too evil. Maybe she was her Fairy Godmother. Y/N chuckled at the silly idea of magic but still felt curious about the predicament she was in.
Y/N didn’t have enough time to dwell on the whereabouts of her dress and shoes before she saw the castle in front of her. Only a few minutes separated her from the majestic building.
“Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen,” she whispered to herself, looking longingly at the castle ahead.
The castle itself was beautiful. Y/N had never seen a building so marvellous in her life. Taking slow steps through the garden in front of the castle, she was in awe. Twirling around and trying to take it all in. The castle inside was just about the same. Mesmerising to the point of Y/N being left speechless. She imagined what it’d be like to live here. So in contrast to her current living conditions.
Before she knew it, she was standing behind a huge door, with two guards standing on each side of it. This must be the ballroom, she figured. She gave a nod and a curtsy to the guards before they nodded in return and opened the doors.
She heard the buzz of the voices first, before walking towards the balcony that was connected to the ground floor of the ballroom. About a hundred and fifty other people were mingling downstairs, not counting the guards and other workers. 
She began to make her descent down the marvellous staircase, walking slowly, as if not to ruin the dress and not to stumble on her feet. She felt anxious, before reminding herself of her father's wise words again.
It was then that Bash saw her, from across the room. He’d been waiting for her for hours now. Hoping that she’d grace the castle with her beauty. And what a beauty she was, indeed. He was left bewildered when he saw her. She looked otherworldly.
She looked ethereal.
As if they were magnets, he felt an invisible string pull him towards her. He apologised to the princess currently in front of him and nodded to his father, before taking his leave and stepping onto the dance floor. 
Y/N had just reached the last step when she noticed the crowd parting and giving her way. At the end of the tunnel of people, she saw him.
It was him, it was truly him.
Bash.
And oh, the way he looked at Y/N. As if she’d hung the stars in the sky. 
He grinned when he was finally near enough to notice the sparkling eyeshadow on her eyelids and the pink tone of her lips. 
“Wow, just wow,” Bash let out, scratching the back of his head. A habit of his, whenever he was nervous. “I’m speechless, really.” Bash said, before taking Y/N’s hand and placing a delicate kiss on her knuckles. 
“You look breathtaking,” he said, looking up. Y/N blushed heavily, still not having noticed the ballroom growing quiet. All she saw was him. He was wearing a dark blue suit, with small gold intricate details, that made him look regal. It was then, Y/N realised, he was probably not just a mere worker in a castle.
“Would you allow me this dance?” He said as he stood up straight again. Y/N nodded, not trusting her words at the moment. He took her hand gently on his, placing his other on her waist. The pull between them only grew, the magnetic feel forcing them to be as close as possible.
And then they danced. He was a wonderful leader, and fortunately for Y/N, she was not so bad herself on a dancefloor, having taken dance lessons in her youth. The pair only had eyes for each other, completely ignoring the looks they were getting all over the ballroom. Some were jealous, some were elated, and some were more than angry with the outcome happening right now.
Y/N grinned as Bash twirled her not once, but twice, and then made her fall into his arms. The song ended and they were both out of breath. Y/N felt Bash put a strand of hair behind her ear, looking longingly into her eyes. He leaned in, before closing his eyes and stopping himself.
“Come with me, I want to show you something,” Y/N nodded as he led her away from the dancefloor to the confines of a secluded room filled with high bookshelves. There were rows and rows of books. Y/N twirled around, taking it all in. She’d never seen bookshelves this high before.
They were in a library. 
Sebastian noticed how Y/N smiled in awe as she took it all in. He just had a feeling she would like it.
“You didn’t tell me you were a prince, Prince Sebastian,” Y/N said when she turned around from admiring the thousands of books gracing the shelves. Bash chuckled.
“I told you I worked at the castle. Which is true,” Y/N narrowed her eyes before smiling. 
“I just didn’t specify,” Bash said, a finality in his tone. Y/N then saw him truly as he was, as a future king. 
A kind future king, she acknowledged. 
“True,” she took another longing look at the bookshelves before something else caught her eye on the other side of the room.
There was a black grand piano, waiting to be played. Almost calling her name as she took steps towards it. Bash saw what her eyes had fixed on, a grin growing on his face.
“Do you play?” He asked as Y/N let her fingers slide tenderly across the black-and-white keys. 
“I used to,” Y/N said honestly, still gazing longingly at the beautiful instrument in front of her. “I haven’t in a while, not since my father passed.” Bash looked at her sorrowfully, before whispering his condolences.
Sebastian took a seat in front of the piano, patting the place next to him. Y/N blushed before she obliged. 
She watched Sebastian place his hands on the piano, pressing a few keys, which made the sweetest tune. She closed her eyes and hummed to herself when she heard him continue. Suddenly the sound stopped and she opened her eyes to come face to face with Bash.
“Your turn,” he whispered, his face was so close to hers, that she could feel his breath on her face. She blushed but shook her head.
“I shouldn’t.”
“You should.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“You should.”
“I shouldn’t, really.”
“You should, really.”
“I will.” She said finally, seeing Sebastian grin before she placed her trembling hands on the keys.
She took a breath before letting her hands take over, the notes she played were familiar to her, never forgotten. Even if she hadn’t played them in so long. She let herself be carried by the tune, until at some point, there was a dialogue.
Sebastian had accompanied her on the piano, he was playing on his side, giving supporting yet beautiful notes to the ones she played. Y/N was enthralled and totally mesmerised by the music. 
So was he. Before today, Sebastian was sure Y/N could not surprise him anymore. She was already perfect enough. But here she was, letting out a precious and delicate part of herself that not many could see. She trusted him. And he appreciated it more than Y/N could ever imagine.
Later on in their life, Bash would tell Y/N that this was the moment he fell in love with her.
As with all good things in life, the song came to an end, and Y/N removed her hands from the keyboard to her lap. Fidgeting with her fingers, as if suddenly ashamed of letting someone see her so bare.
Sebastian placed two fingers underneath her jaw, making Y/N look at him. Her eyes were so vulnerable, that he wanted to fix everything in her life. Not knowing anything about her, but vowing to himself that he’d do anything and everything in his power to make sure she was happy at all times.
Their faces were close again, just one small nudge, and he could feel her lips on his. Y/N saw as Bash’s gaze moved from her eyes to her lips, hers following the action. They were so–so close. Sebastian nudged Y/N’s nose with his own as if asking for permission. Y/N closed her eyes and grinned, him doing the same, and just as their lips were about to meet, Y/N heard the clock strike. 
Her eyes flew wide open and she pulled away. Looking at the clock behind them, she realised she was running out of time.
“I’m so sorry, but I have to go,” Y/N said apologetically, coming to stand. Bash followed immediately, wanting to grasp her arm, but not wanting to overstep.
“You’ve been absolutely wonderful and I’ve had the time of my life, truly.” She started walking away, fast. Sebastian was bewildered, not understanding what went wrong.
“Why are you in a hurry?” He asked, giving her a smile to try to ease the sudden tension in the room.
“It’s hard to explain, I don’t even understand it myself. But I made a promise,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him. Bash was trailing behind her; they still weren’t out of the confines of the library. “I don’t break my promises.”
“Then promise me, we will meet again,” Sebastian told her, as he saw her quicken the pace. She was at the door now. The door that connected to the ballroom. The door that would bring them back to reality. She gave him one last look over her shoulder, grinning at him the way she’d never before when she finally whispered so only he could hear.
“Goodbye, Prince Sebastian.”
She took off and Sebastian followed. He felt his pulse quicken in his chest, for he had been so close to telling her that he’d chosen her as his bride. 
And she’d used his full name. Not the nickname he’d given her.
Bash felt dread creep up on him. This wasn’t supposed to end like this.
And that’s when he realised he didn’t know her name. All this time together, and he had forgotten to ask the simplest of questions. 
She had passed the ballroom now and Sebastian tried his hardest to catch up. With his luck, though, what with being the prince and all, he wasn’t so quick. Girls touched him and pulled him into them, everyone trying to score a chance at a dance with the Prince Sebastian. 
Sebastian muttered countless apologies, before finally getting free of the wandering hands and quickening his pace towards her.
Y/N tried to run as fast as she could. Suddenly she stumbled and one of her glass shoes had fallen off. She looked behind herself and saw Bash following her, even if he was a bit farther behind. She did not have time to go back for the shoe, trying to get the other one off her foot, while still running.
She finally made her way to her carriage, letting it drive away. In her last glance towards the castle, she saw Bash picking up her glass shoe, holding it to his chest, and looking longingly towards the carriage. She blinked and felt moisture on her cheeks. She was devastated by leaving him, but he was a prince. He was the Prince Sebastian and she was just a commoner. A maid, if she could be called even that as of late. However, the feeling was bittersweet, as she’d have memories of this night to remind herself for the years to come.
The way his hands had felt, the way he had looked at her, the way his breath had made goosebumps on her skin when his nose brushed against hers.
The carriage dropped her off at her house, and she hastily made her way into her small room. As she changed into her other dress, the grey one that was her mother's, she noticed that her periwinkle dress was gone. She had just hung it up in her closet, but it was nowhere. She looked again and again, pulling out every other dress in her closet, but nothing.
It was as if it was never even there.
All that remained, which reminded her of the evening spent with the Prince, were her memories and the small glass shoe on the ground in her closet. Reminders, that she hadn’t imagined her time in the castle and that it had been real.
It was quiet until she heard voices coming from the hallway. Annoyed voices.
“I cannot believe, we didn’t get to dance with the Prince,” Isadora said grumpily, sitting down at the dining room table with a disappointed look. “All because of that stupid girl in that pretty dress.”
“At least I touched him,” Arabella closed her eyes, trying to remember the feel of his shoulder beneath her fingers. “He was so firm,” Arabella continued to daydream and took a seat next to her sister. Madam Deveraux was the last to arrive in the room, taking note of Y/N and how bubbly she suddenly looked.
She had a certain spring in her step, when she finally brought the food on the table, for them to eat. Madam Deveraux raised her eyebrow, eyeing Y/N thoroughly, but not saying a word. She thought Y/N would be more devastated at not having had the opportunity to attend the ball.
Something was going on. And she did not like it one bit.
Y/N spent the rest of her evening writing everything down in her diary. She wrote of every minute spent in the castle and her time with the Prince. Mostly, she wrote of the Prince.
Tumblr media
It was a month after the ball when Y/N went to her room to check her closet. She had a peculiar feeling in her chest as if something were amiss. Her diary had been exactly where she’d left it, but to her surprise the glass shoe was missing. Y/N looked around her closet, but it was nowhere in sight.
“Are you looking for this?” She heard the cold voice of Madam Deveraux from the doorstep, before looking at her quizzically. “It’s a wonderful little thing, isn’t it.” Madam Deveraux said, looking at the shoe in her hand and then at Y/N. “Do you even know that there’s a countrywide search for whoever wore these shoes to the ball?”
Y/N was surprised, for she did not know the Prince was looking for her. Mostly because she hadn’t even been out of the house these previous weeks. Madam Deveraux had been giving her more chores than she could manage and now she figured out why.
“I won’t even begin to ask where you acquired such a thing, for I simply do not care.” Madam Deveraux hit the glass shoe on the wall next to her, making Y/N gasp and let out a weak ‘no’.
Madam Deveraux smirked, taking pleasure in Y/N’s sorrowful state. “It’s only a matter of time before they knock on our door. And you will not be a part of this household when they ask. It’s only me, Arabella and Isadora.” She grinned darkly, looking at Y/N sitting on the floor, tears in her eyes. 
“Do you understand? Do you now, finally, understand that sometimes a person of your stature is just not enough?” Y/N whimpered as Madam Deveraux closed the door of her room, locking it behind her.
Y/N looked around herself, she had approximately enough food in her room to last her a few days, but she had finally accepted her fate. She would never see Bash again.
Tumblr media
It was the afternoon of the next day when Madam Deveraux heard knocking on her door. She placed on her most pleasant smile and opened the door wide, to be met with the new King’s chancellor. 
“Hello, we are here on behalf of His Majesty the King, to try to find his beloved. Are there any ladies in your household, to whom this shoe might belong?” The man in a dark blue suit asked, showing Madam Deveraux the glass shoe she was all familiar with.
Madam Deveraux was thrilled. She had ordered her daughters to lotion their feet daily and to try to squish them into smaller shoes, for she had to be sure that one of them would find their place near the King. 
Arabella was first, as was expected of the eldest daughter. She let out a bunch of profanities while trying on the shoe, pushing and pulling the glass to try to fit into it. “One more time,” she said, her face completely red from the puffing and huffing.
“Oh, give up already,” Isaroda said, whilst nudging her sister, making her fall and catching the shoe in her hand.
As expected, it didn’t fit her either.
Madam Deveraux was absolutely annoyed with her daughters, completely disappointed in their incompetence.
“I am sorry for wasting your time, Madam Deveraux,” the chancellor said, as he was stepping out of the house. Just as he was about to get back on his horse, there was humming to be heard.
The loveliest voice was humming a tune somewhere in the house. Madam Deveraux’s eyes shot up, trying to close the door behind her.
The chancellor raised an eyebrow. “Is there someone else in the house with you?” 
Madam Deveraux smiled smugly, however slightly shaken with the idea of the kingsmen hearing Y/N’s humming. She shook her head.
“No, there is no one, but me and my two daughters.”
“You’re lying,” said a strong voice, as a man jumped off his horse. He removed his hood, and everyone gasped.
It was Prince Sebastian. No, he was King Sebastian now. His father had fallen ill and given Sebastian the throne early.
Madam Deveraux was flabbergasted and immediately curtsied. “M-my prin-King, My King, I had no idea, you’d be here.” 
Sebastian took a few steps forward, still hearing the tune of Y/N’s humming. He knew it was her. It was the same song they’d played on the piano together. 
Sebastian looked at his chancellor, nodding towards the house. “Want to check it out, or should I?”
His chancellor, his best friend, smirked when he saw the glint in Sebastian’s eye. “Go ahead, Your Majesty.” Sebastian grinned before fastening his pace and entering the house. He followed the humming to the small door near the kitchen.
Sebastian saw that the door was locked, so with one, really-really strong pull he tore the lock off the door and exhaled before opening the door.
Y/N had no idea what was going on. She had been trying to calm herself ever since Madam Deveraux had locked her in this room. So when she heard noises coming behind the door, she had expected the worst. 
What she didn’t expect, however, were the kind eyes of Bash.
Sebastian faltered, his steps coming to a stop. There she stood. His beloved. His Queen. He furrowed his brows as he took in her commodities. The way she was dressed. The way her eyes were red-rimmed - an indication that she had been crying. 
She had been locked up.
Everything suddenly made sense to him and he wasted no time in hurrying towards Y/N and pulling her to him. Hugging her so close to him, finally, finally, feeling her in his arms.
“Bash,” She let out weakly and Sebastian just shushed her, placing his head on hers. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.”
Y/N tried to push herself away from him, afraid to get even more hurt. She had felt enough disappointment and grief in her life to experience it again. And grief she would feel if she lost Bash too. So it was easier to push him away before her feelings got too strong. Although, deep down, she knew there was already no turning back. She had fallen for him. Deeply.
But Sebastian wouldn’t budge, he was only grinning more widely when he realised that Y/N, the one he was looking for, was safely in his arms.
“Do you know that I have a countrywide search put out for you?” He asked casually, not even minding that she was trying to break free of his hold. Letting his fingers run through her hair, silently comforting her.
“Bash, have you even realised who I am?” Y/N looked at him through tear-filled eyes. “I'm a nobody. A maid at best. I have no prospects, no dowry. I am not someone you want next to you to rule a kingdom.”
Sebastian laughed at that, pulling the smaller one closer to his chest, letting his head fall on her own again. “That’s where you’re wrong, darling,” He inhaled her scent before placing a kiss on her head.
“You’re strong, you’re honest. Your heart is made of gold. You’re the only person I want to share the throne with.”
She finally looked up into his eyes, to see the most sincere gaze ever directed towards her.
“Well, aren’t you supposed to give me a shoe to try on then? Or have I heard wrong?” She finally retaliated and he chuckled at that.
“Fair enough,” he said before slowly kneeling in front of Y/N.
She looked at him, Prince Sebastian, no, King Sebastian now, on one knee, holding up a glass shoe.
Her glass shoe.
“May I?” Bash cheekily said, before Y/N blushed, and pulled up her skirt just a bit to give Sebastian her leg.
Bash placed her foot in the shoe, and as a surprise to neither of them, it fit her perfectly. His eyes found hers instantly, a strong, confident look in his gaze.
“Can I now, finally, know your name?”
She laughed at that, a tear escaping her eye as she finally began to realise that her old life was coming to an end.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” she said as Sebastian’s eyes glossed over as well.
“Y/N,” Bash tried the name out on his tongue, and he liked how it sounded. He closed his eyes and shook his head, before looking at Y/N again with a new determination in his face.
“Y/N, would you please do me the honour of marrying me and making me the happiest man to ever walk this Earth? I promise to give everything in me to make you happy. To keep you safe. Please, just please, end my misery and come back to the castle with me. As my equal. As my Queen.”
Y/N fell on her knees in front of Bash, her tears falling on her cheeks, although she did not care for them at that moment. All she saw was Sebastian’s face near her as she started to nod and laugh.
“Yes?” Bash looked at Y/N with a hopeful gaze, placing his hands on either side of her face, and pulling her towards him.
Y/N closed her eyes, feeling Bash’s forehead on her own.
“Yes.” 
Time stopped then.
Sebastian pulled Y/N closer to himself and finally connected their lips. Magical was not even the word to begin to describe how it felt like. They were made for each other, of that, were they both certain. Y/N had never experienced anything like this before. His lips were so smooth and soft on her own that she let out a whimper. Bash smiled at that and Y/N followed. 
They both pulled away, grinning at each other.
“I love you,” Bash said, caressing Y/N’s face with his right hand.
“I love you,” Y/N said before Bash connected their lips again.
It was no surprise that the wedding of Y/N and Sebastian happened only a week after their first kiss. Y/N had moved into the castle immediately after Sebastian had caught her locked up in the storage room. Madam Deveraux was put to trial, for treating Y/N the way she had. Arabella and Isadora, although crude in their temper, were pardoned, but made to leave the country, effective immediately. 
As for Y/N and Sebastian?
Well, their story is just at the beginning, filled with sweet kisses and even sweeter memories.
“Do you have any idea how happy you’ve made me?” Bash asked as he held Y/N, his wife now, close to himself.
“Hmm, I can begin to imagine it’s something close to the way I feel,” Y/N chuckled and Sebastian laughed, finally taking a look at her.
Ethereal, he thought. She stood in front of him in their shared bedroom, still in her white gorgeous wedding gown.
Sebastian just shook his head, still in disbelief that his happily ever after was in his arms at last. He pulled Y/N closer and placed his lips on hers. The one of many kisses shared that night.
151 notes · View notes
girls-alias · 3 months
Text
His Place - Greg House.
Title: His Place - Greg House
Words: 2,003
Relations: Greg House X Reader
TW: pure smut, swearing. Vulnerable Greg.
Masterlist
Context:
Smut for fic Oops - Greg House.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Made my own GIF because he is too fine in this scene!
SMUT WARNING!:
"God, I want you," He spoke against my lips. Still kissing me, not moving as if not kissing me was the worst thing he could do right now.
"Then take me," I hurried back. Already working on his top buttons. He chuckled into my mouth. He pulled away, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and simply pulling it over his head not wanting to waste time. I smirked as his hands quickly found my waist, pulling my whole body back to him so he could hastily kiss my lips. I smiled against his lips. He started walking me backwards, presumably to his bedroom. I giggled as I stopped allowing him to guide me. He pulled back to look at me slightly concerned. I chuckled as I shook my head. "I don't want to fall," I pretended, he likely understood that I was more nervous about him falling than myself.
"Then we do it where you fall," He joked, I chuckled as I playfully shook my head. He pretended to be annoyed but his smile never left his lips. He led me to his bedroom, and I looked around briefly. Struggling to draw my eyes to anything that wasn't him. He turned around at the edge of his bed, eyes on me as I continued advancing towards him. His smirk grew as I got closer. God, he's so hot!
His hands instantly magnetised to me as if they were made to be on my body. His bright blue eyes swimming in want. He pulled me in by my waist, and he swooped down to connect our lips. Kissing me hastily. His hand roamed my body as I held the back of his neck deepening the kiss. He unzipped my dress, pushing it down as I unbuttoned his jeans. He hummed pulling away slightly. He looked nervous. I watched, pulling away slightly to give him space. He must be nervous that we're going to do it in his bed like he's afraid it's a little more intimate. I get it, I mean we did just fuck in a dirty bar bathroom seems like a quick jump considering we don't even know each other's last names.
"I just," He paused slightly. Admiring me, and smiling as he moved some of my hair out of my face. It shocked me, his soft eyes and hands. I blinked a few times, my cheeks blushing instantly. "I assume we'll be naked this time so I just want to warn you about my scar," He started explaining, struggling to say it but I smiled. Silencing him with a kiss. He seemed to melt against my lips slightly. I pulled away smiling.
"A silly scar isn't going to bother me," I assured but he shook his head.
"It's not just the scar, the muscle-" He struggled for his words, quickly no longer having it in him to look me in the eyes. I placed my hand on his cheek, guiding his eyes to mine.
"You'll learn quickly I never judge," I smiled reassuringly. He seemed to think for a second, his eyes searching my expression for a sign I was lying. He smiled, placing his hand under my chin and guiding my lips to his. This kiss was different, it was slower, more precise and seemingly passionate. It wasn't a kiss that would lead to sexy it was a kiss that would lead to more kissing. I smiled against his lips. He deepened the kiss, a hand moving to my waist, slowly sliding down my ass before bending to grab the back of my knee to guide it slowly up his side before anchoring it to his hip. I smirked against his lips before he spun around me so my one foot on the floor spun around. He slowly guided me down on the bed, hovering between my legs as he came down with me.
He let go of my leg, holding his weight on his forearm by my head his other hand on my waist pulling my body up, I arched my back. Our bodies pressed together as we continued makeout slowly. The intimacy seemed to be deep and breathtaking. He sat up, his hand going to my back to sit me up with him. I smiled against his lips, he unzipped my dress, shimmying with his free hand to try and free it from my body. I giggled, pulling away to slip it off my body as he watched me intently. His eyes searched my body as I lay in only my underwear.
"Now the rest," He softly instructed. I chuckled as I shook my head, stripping myself of all my clothes completely naked in his bed. He held his breath as he looked me up and down. "Fuck, you're so hot," He commented as he came back to his previous position, his lips catching mine as he resumed our slow and meaningful makeout session. I giggled as he hummed, enjoying feeling my bare flesh under his hands. He shifted slightly. "Don't laugh," He said against my lips before sitting up and pushing himself to stand in front of me. I rested on my elbows to watch as he straightened up. He maintained eye contact with me till he pulled his hands past his thigh, he couldn't look me in the eyes once my peripheral vision caught sight of his scar.
I smiled, my eyes staying on his face as I didn't care about the scar. I don't need to see it, it's not my business. He stepped out of his jeans before looking at me, still standing in his boxers. The second his eyes landed on mine he smiled as if he were used to women staring at it. He happily took his boxers off. I bit my lip watching his dick spring free. I giggled as he grinned, quickly coming back between my legs.
"Get over her," He commented, wanting my lips on him instantly. His lips were slow, his tongue was teasing, his hands were hungry and his breath steady but fast. I dug my nails into his back slightly as my other hand held the back of his neck, keeping him close. His finger trailed through my folds making me gasp. He smirked, kissing my lips as if the interruption hadn't happened. He went to insert his finger but I pulled back giving him devious eyes and a smirk.
"I'm ready now," I explained, he studied my face before grinning and quickly kissing me. His mouth silenced me as he lined himself up to my entrance, His tongue entering my mouth to suppress my moans as he pushed deep inside me. He smiled against my lips. Pulling away to take a deep breath, I gasped, just feeling how hard and big he was inside me.
He kissed my neck, finding it easier for both of us to breathe. He pulled out before pushing deep inside me, moans filled the room as he repeated this at a slow, tantalising pace. I raised my hips to meet him each time, rolling them into him so he reached deeper inside me. Although we just met, it felt like we were making love rather than fucking and it was all that I needed. I can't remember the last time something felt this good. It feels so good I can't remember much of anything.
"Fuck," He groaned against the skin on my neck, my orgasm building. His pace never faltered, his hand holding my waist tightly as I dug my nails into his back.
"Am I scratching too hard?" I asked, barely being able to say it through my moans.
"It's perfect," He added, resting his head on my shoulder as he breathed heavily. I whimpered as I bit my lip, his hips rocking into mine as he reached my G-spot with ease. "I can feel you building up," He commented through laboured breath, I hummed as I quickly nodded. My orgasm edging closer. He seemed to recognise hearing his voice made me quiver. He kissed my shoulder as he smiled. "God, I could do this forever," I whimpered at his words. "I want to be deep inside you every night, to have you whimpering," I moaned, my back arching up as he continued. Not only with his words but with his hips, his tip hitting my G-spot repeatedly. "Just hearing you moan could make me cum," I breathed deeply, whimpering as I bit my lip. God, I'm getting so close. "Are you on birth control? I want you to feel me cum inside you," I nodded hastily, opening my eyes slightly as he admired me. His eyebrows furrowed as he was clearly holding back. I moaned at the sight. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. "God, I hope you're as close as I am," He added. I moaned, his dick hitting my G-spot the last time it needed to reach my orgasm.
"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," I warned my nails quickly digging into his back as I practically screamed from the pleasure washing over me.
"Oh, fuck," He exclaimed before his cum shot deep inside me. I moaned as it was powerful and seemed to extend my orgasm. His hips faltered as we rode out our highs. Breathing heavily as we calmed down. His forehead rested on my shoulder as he caught his breath. I chuckled softly overcome with joy. He raised slightly to smile at me. I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. He smiled against my lips before pulling out and practically flopping on the bed beside me. I smiled up at the ceiling as I tried to stabilise my breathing. "You're not into cuddling?" He asked, I glanced over, smiling as I happily turned to snuggle into him. My head rested on his arm as I placed my hand on his chest, my lap softly draping over his. He smiled kissing my forehead before we lay, the only sound being our slowly steadying breath. Instantly exhausted my eyes felt heavy.
"Maybe next time we should just meet here," He commented, his gaze on the ceiling before glancing at me to read my reaction. I smiled knowing he too wanted to do this again. I sure as hell do.
"Yeah, the bar would ban us if they found out what activities we go up to in the bathroom," I agreed, he chuckled as he admired me. He softly stroked my hair as he pulled me in closer to him. I rested my head on his chest missing the feeling of being safe like this. I hummed happily as he rubbed my back, drawing random patterns.
"I am serious though, I do want to keep doing this," He explained, I chuckled, smiling brightly.
"So, do I," I added before he was silent but I knew we were both smiling. We lay happily before I sighed and sat up a little to look at him. He smiled, I couldn't help but smile back a little sadly. "I have to go," I explained, my sadness showing in my tone. He looked disappointed.
"Stay over," He shrugged, kissing me softly. I smiled as he sat back to watch me.
"I wish I could but I have work in the morning and I need a change of clothes," I explained reluctantly. Leaning up to kiss him. He chuckled kissing me back.
"Your dress will look perfect, who cares," He added between kisses. I giggled against his lips.
"My interviewer already saw it and it would be just my luck to see him tomorrow and everyone knows I didn't go home," I explained, Greg chuckled as he sat back and nodded with a smile.
"Yeah, maybe not the best first impression," He joked, I chuckled as I quickly kissed him before getting up.
"Bathroom?" He instructed me where to go. I went in to clean myself up. I came back to find Greg hadn't moved and his smile was still present on his lips.
Back to Oops.
Masterlist
173 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
The Straw Hat Girls
Chapter 2
Summary: You were just trying to enjoy some time at the beach when suddenly you feel like you’re going crazy ! And why do you keeping hearing his voice so loud ! No way it can’t be…is he…home? 🏖️
Warnings: Suggestive Talk! Next Chapter Contains Smut!!
Author’s Note: I was going to add the smut here but it would’ve been hella long so I split them apart Sorry Y’all 😭💕💕 but it’s coming lol I just didn’t want to post 10k words in one post lol. I learned from that mistake before lol 😂 so enjoy cause the next one I promise we’re gonna see a feral Luffy loving on his wifey lol
Artwork At the Bottom of the Chapter!
Please picture yourself in the scene I just can’t draw blank characters it looks weird whenever I try lol 😂 so you can ignore how the reader looks im just practicing my artwork! Let me know what y’all think❤️
Chapter 2
Day at the Beach
The beach was on your mind the second the sun rays peeked through your curtains. A smile on your face with a determination to have nothing but fun and relaxation. So putting on your red swim dress you got everything that you'd need for a day at the beach. 
“Blankets, towels, lunch, water, keys, money for breakfast on the way cause I’m too lazy to cook right now, check, check, check!” You said to yourself with a slight chuckle. 
Making sure your bestie was clean and ready to go, you grabbed your bag heading to the door before a thought dawned on you. “Oops, I almost forgot!” You said cheerfully as you grabbed your straw hat that was on the kitchen counter. 
It was a nice walk to the beach, you even grabbed a muffin on the way. The shining star was warm on your skin as you caught sight of the ocean coming into view. A strong breeze drifted the smell of salt into your nasal passages making you sigh at the familiar scent. You always loved the ocean, you just hated the troubles that came with it. 
The danger made you nervous now that things in your life have changed so drastically. It would be different if he would just come back though, then you’d have nothing to worry about. He was always Your King before he became one to the world. Your joy boy before he knew it himself. He was your everything so you had to let him go in order for him to be his own everything as well. 
You wouldn’t change it for the world. It was lonely at first but you had someone who made it all better now. Your pride and joy wearing the same smile like the love of your life. It gave you hope that he would come home. 
One day. You would say to yourself on repeat. 
Soon the liberator would come for you too. Sweeping you off your feet and keeping you safe from any possible danger once and for all. 
It’s been so long since you saw him in secret briefly at Sabaody Archipelago before he met back up with his crew. He was more mature than you've ever seen him and he declined your request to travel alongside him. It almost broke your heart but you knew why he did it, a man can only take so much loss in his life. Losing you as well, the woman he loved since he was a child, would’ve been the final straw for him. 
You still remember the way he held you after reuniting, like your body brought him air. You were his lifeline, his anchor holding him up. He didn’t have to be a Captain with you. No worries about breaking down cause he knew you would pick up every miniscule piece without judging. You saw past any insecurities, any doubt, any grief, you knew he was tired from the weight of it all. 
So when he denied you coming with…you knew why.
He had to do this alone. Well with his crew of course but he had to do it alone, as a man. To prove he could protect you, his family, his love, his wife. You’ve been by his side for years so you wouldn’t stop him and his dream of total liberation. How could you want to when you saw the determination in his eyes. That passionate fire that always burned inside him brighter than any sun. You always knew he could do all those things the second he mentioned it as kids on the beach. You never laughed at his dreams out of doubt but pure excitement from the truth that his eyes always held. You just knew he would make it one day. 
~
“…I’ll even become King of the Pirates…Hey what’s so funny?”
“Oh nothing, I just can’t wait to see it, that’s all.” 
~
You always knew he could do it. And he did but at a great cost. You wanted nothing more than to see him, to touch him, kiss his silly grin. But you never let it make you somber, you had someone keeping your full attention now and you didn’t mind one bit. 
You stared at the life you had the privilege of making with contentment in your heart. Thick, dark curls framing a tanned face sleeping peacefully to the sounds of crashing waves. The sun kept your little bundle warm from any breeze that the sea drifted toward you. Placing the sleeping form down on the blanket beside you, you sat back on your hands looking out at the view. 
It was pretty silent, usually kids playing but they must’ve been up to something else. It was okay though, it gave you both some peace and quiet to really bask in the beauty of the ocean. Seagulls flying and whales singing in the distance reminding you of him once again. You let the memories fill you with joy of his return instead of sad thoughts. You knew he would hate to see you in such a negative state. So you always kept a cheerful attitude knowing it’s what he would do no matter the circumstances. 
You missed him so much, what you wouldn’t give to hear him say your name again. 
“Honey~!” 
You could almost hear his precious voice right now. But that would be too good to be true.
“Hey Honey~!” 
That’s exactly how he’d yell your name  when you ran faster than him as kids. Now he was faster than you, you just knew it, how else would he have such a title. Oh you missed him so much.
 Why was your brain haunting you so realistically it was starting to dampen your mood. This was supposed to be a good day and all you can hear is his freaking voice! That handsome voice that you love so much. 
“Hey Honey~!”  
That handsome voice that is slowly getting louder. Louder than the seagulls even, that’s strange? Why is it getting louder? 
“Honey~!” 
Ugh there’s his voice again.
“Stop yelling there’s a baby down there! It must not be her if she isn’t answering!”
Am I hearing others too? Was that a woman’s voice? Okay what’s going on? 
Turning your head you saw someone running down the hill, the sunlight too bright for your eyes to see. So grabbing your hat you stood up placing it on your head and turned fully to see if what you were imagining was true. There was no way. It couldn’t be. Could it?
“Oh Honey~! I’m home~!” That voice, that smile, “M-Momo? Is t-that really you?” You gasped with tears welling up in your eyes. Then you heard it. That laugh like no other. “Shishishi!”
It was him! Your King of the Pirates! Luffy!
“Did my girls miss me?” Luffy asked leaping in the air with legs like a spring.
“Girls?” Nami asked confused before it all suddenly went click in their brains. Everyone screaming loudly, “Wait Luffy!? You had a baby?!”
Luffy laughed loudly as he spun into the air like a tornado .He was even bouncier than you remembered, almost unrealistic and animated in the way he jumped down the hill toward you. You felt frozen in place watching the man you’ve waited almost two years to see leap into the air. The sunlight shining around him as he laughed like no other, legs like coils as his crew followed behind in a leisure pace.
Luffy sprung down the hills toward you, his legs running inhumanly faster than what he thought, almost causing his legs to fly off out of sheer excitement. He was so happy to see your gorgeous form that he even had to grab his eyes that popped out not wanting to scare you with all the changes he’s gone through. He didn’t want to explain it right now. All he wanted to do was hold you against him. To feel your heart beating against his chest, to feel your hands on him holding him tightly, legs squeezing him close never letting him go. 
He knew he should be excited to see his bundle of life but honestly he could go for making more at the moment. All he was thinking about was being as close to you as two people can be. He would have plenty of time to hear the babbling and play with the chunkiness you both created later. Right now he needs you.
You watched Luffy stretch a leg and snapped right in front of you making you almost jump. “It’s really you~! Luffy~!” Your tears of shock rapidly changed to one’s of happiness now that he stood before you. 
He had a hand to his hat as he looked you up and down with a wide grin, licking his lips slowly. Oh he’s changed. A confidence to him pulling you in for a game you wanted to play. You didn’t expect this but this was good. 
You were going to speak first or shout I love you or something but you couldn’t. It was like that grin of his and the slow drag of his tongue across his pretty lips took your voice. 
He looked different hair a bit longer than his most recent wanted poster, bright gold earrings adorned his ear. They shined from the light of the   sun or was it his smile, you couldn’t tell the difference. He was glowing in power, captivating your senses then you heard that voice of his again. 
The one that you get to hear whenever you’re alone with him, “It’s been a while…” lifting his head to gaze into your eyes, a flash going through them like lightning, “You’re looking good Mami.” 
You couldn’t help but bite your lip when you took a good look at the man standing before you, his caramel skin practically glowing from the sun. Muscles rippling with sweat dripping down his scarred chest, no shirt in sight but you didn’t care in the slightest. His jean shorts hanging low showcasing the cut of his hips, sweat trailing down to fall in them and you wanted nothing more than to see where it stopped. You swallowed harshly as you felt yourself growing wet in your swim bottoms and it wasn’t from the ocean.
 Small snores were heard next to you from where your baby slept peacefully snapping you out of your perverted thoughts of your husband. Your eyes glanced down at her before looking back up at Luffy who was now walking toward you.  Your nerves made your face flush instantly, it’s been so long since you’ve kissed him. What if you messed up? No how could you possibly mess up a kiss, jeez get ahold of yourself. 
Luffy’s strong hands wrapped around your waist pulling you toward him, “Missed ya Mami.” His voice whispered as he slowly walked toward you with more patience from him than what you were used to. Pushing his hat back he coiled an arm around your waist, “Momo~” Your voice was coo as you couldn’t think of any words to say to him. 
You threw your arms around his neck and rushed in for a kiss, a groan leaving both of you at the long awaited meeting. Fingers weaving in his dark hair, nails scraping at his scalp to pull him in closer which he obliged immediately. Luffy couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch first, hands like pool noodles squirming and wrapping all around you in a tight embrace. You felt his hands on your hair knocking your hat off, then down your spine making you shiver before he squeezed the fat of your ass. 
“Well look at you Captain! You sly dog!” A deep voice chuckled behind you both but neither of you were ready to pull apart just yet, “And here I thought that stupid cook would settle down first!”
“I’ll still get a wife before you, dumb mosshead!” Now that’s what got Luffy to break apart from the feral kiss, causing a whine to leave the back of your throat. Your husband gave you a wink when he noticed your pout but it changed when he put his hat on your head. 
“Shishishi!” Luffy laughed as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder to stand at your side, “Everyone this is our new crewmate! Monkey D. Y/N!” Hearing Luffy say those words made you release a gasp, “REALLY~!” Yup and now the tears were back again.
You haven’t heard him say your real name in years, always so much risk in your real name and identity being heard but now you knew he was ready. Ready to take on the world for you as the strongest in the sea. No one would come between the King and his Queen who would rule the sea. No fear of the world government finding you, no more code name to keep you safe from their grasp. You could be…You. 
“Welcome to the crew Y/N!” A man with a long nosed waved and you recognized him from his wanted poster, “Thanks Usopp!” You smiled and his face turned to one of shock, “Wait you know our names?” 
You couldn’t help but laugh,”Of course. I know everything about you guys, you sail the sea with my husband, why wouldn’t I?” You blushed when Luffy kissed your cheek, “Yeah she knows everything, I just wanted to keep her as a hidden treasure for a bit.” 
“Awe~!” Nami’s squeal caught all of your attention as she was crouched down by the baby who was still  asleep.. Luffy followed her lead and squatted down to take a look finally at the life he made. Dark curls, and chunky caramel skin made him grin wide, she looks so squishy, he thought looking at her tiny form. 
“Hey I’m your papá! Monkey D. Luffy King of the Pirates!” He smiled cheerfully as he looked down at his daughter who wore a straw hat with a purple dotted bow, “Cool hat! I have one too!” 
The crew gathered around the baby all squealing and cooing at the cuteness their Captain had hid from them. “I’m super shocked.” Franky laughed out as he put a hand on Robin’s back, “Makes me kinda want one.” He mumbled but Luffy’s ears perked up at the sound, especially when Robin gave a, ‘Yes I agree.’
“Oh yeah!?” Luffy smirked as he glanced back at the dark haired woman who stood next to Franky.  “Hey Robin ~! Can you watch the baby a minute?”  Luffy noticed your raised brows, but trust still remained in your gaze. You knew Luffy trusted his crew with his life and that extended down to his child as well, “I’m gonna have a snack real quick!”
“Sure thing Captain! Have fun~!” Robin and Franky both laughed at their Captain’s excitement to spend time with his wife.
Your eyes widened in shock as you saw the lust in your husband's eyes knowing exactly what he had on his mind. Your blush grew as you heard the cook Sanji shout, “But I left all the food on the ship?!”
Luffy’s grin widened as he heard Zoro answer back, “He wasn’t talking about food you idiot!”
You watched the cook’s nose erupt with blood as his brain caught up with everything, clearly not used to the true perverted nature of their Captain. 
Oh they were in for it cause you knew the Luffy that others didn’t get to see. That feral insatiable side that could go for hours until you both were exhausted from all the pleasure he induced. You always tapped out first, your stamina no match for the King but he didn’t mind. In fact it was a goal of his everytime he would get you alone. He loved seeing your body numb and out of energy, the only thing it was able to do was just receive all the love he would bring you. Luffy loved turning you into a crying, tingling mess, begging for more even though your body was out of energy long ago.
“So what d’ya say Mami…Wanna check out the Captain’s quarters?!”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
278 notes · View notes
modelbus · 6 months
Text
This might be more on the angst side… oops? Also, this is like 3k words… There are POV switches!! And this was inspired by an ao3 story with a similar premise but that was with Kaz and Wylan so there’s that.
There is alcohol and suggestiveness in this! Be warned, it’s a bit different than my usual!
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader
Flufftober 4 - It’s All An Act (Spies)
Tumblr media
"Sorry, what?" You stare at Kaz, and he stares back evenly.
"It's a simple mission. You don't have to do anything."
"Then why do you need me?"
He sighs, gloved hand tightening and loosening on his crow cane. Without a doubt, he was upset at you for not getting it, but forgive you for being a little startled when he asks you to pretend to date him!
"It'll be too suspicious if I show up alone. All I need you for is pretending to date me. But carry some weapons in case things go... awry."
"You want me to go with you to a party, pretend to date you, and... that's it?"
"That's it."
You stare at him for a few more moments, trying to figure out if he had any other angle. Most times, Kaz Brekker kept his crows in the loop. But there were times when he didn't, and you knew him too well to not try and figure out if it was or wasn't.
Although you were the second newest crow (thanks to Wylan for taking the newest title) you and Kaz actually somewhat got along. You’re certain it's because he values you ability to kill without hesitation. That's what you are to him: his assassin. Your role, your one job, was to kill and to kill efficiently. 
He didn't question why you were able to kill so easy, and you didn't question his aversion to touch and water. You got along, and things were fine.
Or, they were, until you had to go and start noticing stupid things about him. Like the way he looked mid-fight, slamming his cane into someone. Or the way his lips would barely twitch when one of them said something particularly funny. It took you a bit to realize, but when you did you knew you were royally fucked.
Because, of course, you started to develop feelings for Kaz Brekker. Feelings that, as long as you were sane, would stay quite hidden. Which only made this whole job harder.
He wanted you to pretend to date him. It might just be the hardest thing he's asked of you yet, and he doesn't even know it.
"Take the job. Wish I could go to a party." Jesper grumbles, and you glance at the sharp shooter sitting next to you.
"Unfortunately, no one in their sound mind would believe we were dating." Kaz says cooly. "That, and everyone knows your face around here."
You grimace. Your own insurance, coming to bite you in the ass. Most people only saw you face before you killed them. It was easier to sneak around in plain sight that way. Obviously the crows were the exceptions, and maybe a few others out there.
"You're sure nobody else wants to do this?" You try.
"Wylan and Jesper are far too in love for me to take Wylan, Inej is out hunting slavers, and Nina..." He shakes his head. 
"Fine. Whatever. I'll do the stupid job."
You sigh, knowing this job very well might be the death of you. Emotional death, that is. But then again, it was Kaz. Surely he wasn't the type to be a touchy fake date, not with his touch aversion.
"Good. Meet me down here at nine sharp tomorrow night. Dress nice, have concealed weapons."
Kaz walks off, not waiting for you to confirm you understood his directions. You scowl at his back before sighing. 
"This will be a disaster."
"I'm sure it'll be fun!" Jesper exclaims. "It's a party, how bad can it be?"
"I have to fake date Kaz Brekker." You deadpan.
"Yeah, but he wants you for arm candy. To draw the attention away from him. That's the closest to a compliment you'll ever get out of him."
You can't help but sigh again. "We take what we can get with him, don't we?"
-
Kaz is waiting for you outside the Crow Club when you arrive. He isn't dressed any different from his normal, except a pocket watch with a fancier chain than you’re used to. His gaze is level as he gazes at you as you walk towards him.
And you knows you looks good, but that isn't why he's looking at you. You’re in a nice outfit for once, flowing sleeves down to your wrists, and black gloves up to your elbows nearly. The gloves and long sleeves were carefully planned, knowing exactly what role you’d be playing tonight.
"How many knives do you have?" Kaz asks, looking behind you, almost like he's checking to see if you were followed by anyone. 
"Seven." You grin. You may be a pretty distraction tonight, but you’re just as dangerous as you are pretty.
"Good." He nods. Not approval, but close enough. "Let's go."
You walk next to him as they go through the streets of Ketterdam, slowly heading to the more expensive places. The streets widen, becoming more and more lit as they go, and you realize that maybe you should've asked whose party this was.
"So, Brekker. Lovely night, isn't it?" You ask conversationally. From the very start You’ve always used his last name, and haven’t even thought of changing that despite how he always ground his teeth at it.
"What do you want?" He snaps.
"Come on, be nicer to your date." You can't help yourself. Kaz might not react much, but it's funny when he does react.
"This was a bad idea."
"But we're too far into it now."
Kaz's jaw clenches, and you can't help but laugh quietly. "So, the plan?"
He sighs, and you wait a moment. Although he's sometimes an asshole, and mostly keeps things to himself, he's always told you everything you needed to know in a plan.
"Just look pretty and act stupid. Do what I tell you, for once." He finally says.
"Oh, yikes, that'll be really hard. I mean, listening to you?" You joke.
Kaz pulls up short, slamming his cane out in front of you. "I mean it, assassin." 
And just as you called him Brekker, he called you by your job. Assassin. 
"You can't call me that tonight." You respond calmly. "It'll give us away."
"Say it." 
You groan. "Fine. I'll listen to you."
He nods sharply, continuing on. "Good."
"You're a little paranoid, don't you think?"
Kaz doesn't even justify you with an answer at that one, leaving you to walk alongside him quietly. 
"This is it." He announces suddenly, and draws up short.
You let your eyes flicker over the building—tons of windows—then return to him. "...are you sure?"
"Yes. Inside. Now."
The second you take a step in, you shrink yourself. Shoulders curling in, angling yourself towards Kaz. You can feel his eyes on you as you do so, raking over you.
"Loosen up." He instructs you in a low voice.
"Easy for you to say." You murmur back. "You're not the one pretending to be the crow's whore."
"Someone's said that to you before."
It's not a question. Of course it isn't. Kaz's eyes sharpen, hardening into something mean in front of you.
"Not now." You say dismissively.
He glares at you but gives you a curt nod, and together you walk into the party. You, just for tonight, let yourself revel in the eyes being drawn to you. You give a taunting grin to someone they walk by, playing up your role a little.
Look pretty? Yeah, you can do that.
"Mr. Brekker." A merchant says, his eyes sliding from Kaz to you. "And..."
"Alex." you purr, tilting your head.
Like hell you’re giving your real name out to anyone here. Instead, Alex, a random name, will have to do.
"My date." Kaz cuts in smoothly. "Don't mind them."
"Pretty." The merchant says appraisingly. You should be flattered, but you’re more disgusted.
Kaz tilts his head, studying you. "Yes." He agrees coldly. "Get a drink, we're going to talk business. Loosen up."
You pause, but this certainly isn't the time to mention that youve never drank before. Instead you give him a graceful nod, floating off through the crowds. 
The bar is an open bar, you can tell that from the lazy way the bartender is flashing his watch. Nobody here is expected to get drunk, or to steal it. Unfortunately for them, you and Kaz are here, so no watch is safe.
"I'll have a drink." You say lightly, leaning on the counter.
"Of?" The bartender asks, snorting.
Shit.
"Make me what you're best at." You answer, looking at him through your eyelashes. It should be a safe answer.
By the way the bartender smiles and starts to make something, it is. A second later a glass of something is slid your way. Here's to hoping this won't fuck with you too much.
-
Kaz Brekker
He's starting to get a little worried. Not too much, he knows you can handle yourself perfectly fine, but it has been a while since he sent you off. You weren’t at the bar: he's been checking it every few moments.
It's starting to piss him off. One job, one easy job, and you can't even follow that. There was no point in bringing you if you was just going to vanish. 
"Come on, Assassin." He murmurs, still scanning the crowd.
Truthfully, he shouldn't be calling you that here. Alex was the name you gave the merchant earlier, and Alex was the name he should be calling you by. He isn't sure where Alex came from, actually.
It doesn't matter. What does matter is what he came here for, and finding you. 
Of course, right as he's about to turn back to the real reason he's here, there's a clatter of decidedly sour guitar strings. Most don't turn towards the noise, but Kaz does. And when he sees, his entire body freezes.
Because where else would you be except talking to the guitar player. And, from the looks of it, flirting with him.
"There you are." Kaz says, striding to you, feeling like yelling. "I've been looking for you."
"Sorry." You chirp, grinning brightly at him.
At that, he falters. When was the last time he saw a smile that bright, that genuine? Actually, scratch that, when had you ever apologized to him?
He leans closer, whispering in your ear, words coming out more as a snarl than anything else. "What are you doing, Assassin?"
"Me?" You ask, looking genuinely surprised. "I'm talking to the guitar player! I used to play guitar, you know, before my father broke it."
He flicks his eyes over you. Not once have you ever divulged information about your personal life, and not once did Kaz ever ask.
"You're drunk?" He asks, incredulously.
"Me? Drunk?" You gasp, stumbling.
With a lurch, he grabs your arms to stop you from hitting the floor. Even through his gloves, it sends a jolt up his spine.
"Three layers." You slur, and he realizes you’re comforting him while drunk. "Don't panic."
"How much did you drink?" He demands lowly, dragging you to a darker corner.
"Three. Maybe four."
"Three what?"
Only three drinks shouldn't have messed you up this much, not unless they were straight vodka or something ridiculous.
"I don't know." 
He stares at you. It isn't like you to be so... careless.
"What do you mean you don't know?" He snaps.
"I've never drank before." Kaz's jaw goes slack. You’ve never drank before? This is your first time drinking? Ever? "Hey, anyone ever tell you your eyes are nice?"
"Shut up, I need to think." Kaz growls, drawing a hand down his face.
His eyes dart around, landing on a nearby door. Without a second thought, he shoves you in, closing the door behind you and locking it. It's a bathroom, and for that he's incredibly thankful.
"Splash yourself with water." Kaz orders, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.
"Why?"
"To sober you up."
"Will it really?"
Kaz is starting to like you a lot more when she's sober.
-
You
An explosion rockets through the building, shaking the walls a little. "Woah." You laugh. It’s funny for some reason. "One of ours? Wylan's?"
"Yes." Kaz says, eyes flicking between you and the door. "Water, now."
"Why are we bombing the party?"
"Near the party." He corrects you impatiently.
There's a sudden pounding on the door, and Kaz swears under his breath violently.
"Anyone in there?! Open up!" 
You lift yourself onto the bathroom counter, sitting next to the sink. You watch Kaz, his scheming face on.
"What are you doing?" He asks, still glaring at you.
"Get over here."
"What are you doing?"
"Kaz." You raise your eyebrows. "Get caught or get over here."
Kaz clenches his jaw, striding up to you. "Now what? You're drunk, we're in a bathroom."
You run your hands through your hair, messing it up. You move back further to lean against the mirror, spreading your legs.
"Hands on either side of my head."
Immediately, Kaz stiffens. "Pardon?"
"We either make it look like you're about to fuck me or we get caught." 
His eyes go cold, but he leans in, placing a hand to right of your head. His left hand, though, goes to your waist.
"Three layers." He murmurs, almost to himself. "You're drunk, which means I'm yelling at you later for this."
"Please don't-" You cut yourself off with a gasp when the door slams open. You’re close. Not enough to touch Kaz, your mind isn't that foggy, but enough to certainly imply some things.
"Oh." A strange voice says. "Oh. My- my apologies, I didn't-"
"Get out." Kaz growls, turning his head away from you to glare at whoever is at the door.
The door shuts quickly with a loud "thud" noise. Both Kaz and you stay there for a moment, waiting to see if the intruder was actually gone.
"Wasn't that fun?" You say weakly.
"No." Kaz snaps, turning his head back to glare at you.
"Don't be pissed at me. I just saved our asses." You complain, meeting his eyes.
"Who said I'm pissed at you? Frustrated, certainly. I can't fault you too much for being drunk when I asked you to get a drink." 
"You have a nice voice." You say honestly.
"Close your mouth before you say something you'll regret."
you stare at him for a moment, mind swirling with thoughts you can't truly sort out.
You’re suspended for another second, neither of you having moved from the quite intimate position. You wasn't a short person, but you were smaller than Kaz, meaning he's practically covering your body with his right now.
"Could you get off me?" You say quietly.
"You're the one who put us in this position." He responds, raising his eyebrows. "If you were uncomfortable with it, you shouldn't have done it."
Either way, he removes his hands, but doesn't step back. Your head swims, having entirely forgotten his hand was on your waist in the first place.
"No, it's because I liked it too much." 
Kaz closes his eyes, rubbing his temples with gloved hands. "This is why I don't deal with drunk people."
"What, drunk people are too honest or something?"
"No. Secrets get spilled that nobody wants to hear."
"You don't want to hear my secrets?" You pout, a little upset. You must truly be nothing to him if he didn't even want your secrets to use against you.
"Why are you sad at that?" Kaz asks, and if you didn't know better you’d think he sounds incredulous.
"Because that means I mean nothing to you, which is depressing."
"Where did you get that idea?" His eyebrows furrow.
"You want everyone's secrets." You point out, still leaning against the mirror while sat on the counter. "Why not mine?"
"Trust me, I want them. I just want them out of your own free will."
Hell if you know what that means, but... "Nobody is holding a gun to my head."
"You're drunk. You have no filter."
"Correct. And? When did you care about morals?"
"I don't." He levels his cool gaze at you. "But when it comes to you... I know I wouldn't want my secrets getting out because I'm drunk." 
"When it comes to me?" You echo, jumping on the lose thread in his words.
"Get off the counter."
"Explain."
An unstoppable force meets an unmovable object, what happens? A collision so grand, so huge, that everything else pales in comparison.
But they aren't unstoppable or unmovable. You are drunk, Kaz has his own problems.
So he steps back, and you slide off the counter, fixing your clothes.
"Let's go." Kaz says gruffly.
But even now, even in the dim lighting of a bathroom, even with a foggy mind that is slowly clearing, you know. Hell, you both know.
Something has changed.
178 notes · View notes
sleepingdeath-light · 11 months
Note
TOH WITH A IMMORTAL READER!
Okay so this wasn’t a specific request or anything so I’m just going to answer here with how I think each character would cope with having an immortal significant other. This got very long as I included basically everyone that’s on my masterlist… oops!
Also, to reiterate, these are just my thoughts so they’re very biased towards how I interpret the characters — and your relationship with the characters can be romantic or queer-platonic or similar depending on your preference!
Thoughts below the cut!
Adrian Graye-Vernworth
doesn’t even remotely believe you at first and will probably assume you’re joking. but once he does recognise your honesty then he’ll probably have something of a breakdown for a while and step back from your relationship — equal parts jealous of the life you’ve lived and horrified at the idea of just being a blip on the radar of your infinite life. it’s 50/50 whether this is a dealbreaker for him and he’ll either slowly inch back into your relationship or just break up with you because of the stress.
Alador Blight
alador is mostly neutral to your immortality when it comes to your relationship. like he’ll call on you for a second opinion when he’s working on something and will draw on your experience to further help his fellow witches — but he doesn’t really think about it any beyond that. though he does sometimes worry about you and how you’ll cope when he’s gone (because he knows that losing you would break him).
Amity Blight
when you tell her it’s quite the shock to the system and she doesn’t really know what to say or how to react. she’ll freeze up and you can see her thinking as she considers her response before she finally squeezes your hands and thanks you for telling her. she’d want to stay with you and wouldn’t want to break up, but she’d definitely have a few crises over the fact that you’ve lived so long before her and you will live so long after — but she also finds a small bit of comfort in the idea that she’ll never have to live without you.
Belos / Philip Wittebane
he’s been alive for far longer than he ever should have been because of his mission, so the idea of immortal entities isn’t difficult for him to believe. so upon finding out about your condition, he’s amazed but not necessarily startled by it — asking you about your origins and if there are more beings like you out there. if he truly cares about you, he’ll stick by you for as long as he’s able to keep his form stable — but if he doesn’t then he’ll just use you to find a way to complete his goal and lengthen his life further.
Boscha
boscha is someone else who wouldn’t believe you when you told her — going from genuine disbelief to shaky doubt to outright terrified denial and then through the stages of grief as she comes to terms with your condition. as sad as it sounds, this would probably end up being a deal breaker and would end your relationship as she would struggle too much with your past and future to be with you beyond that.
Camila Noceda
she doesn’t believe you at first, thinking that you’re just older than her as she’s seen some strange things but immortality is just so far beyond that. it takes her some time to come to terms with this but you do end up bonding over the losses you’ve experienced throughout your lives — you, your various lovers and friends, and her, luz’s father. she insists on learning your native language and teaching you hers so that you have an experience to remember her by.
Collector
having an immortal significant other would be the best case scenario for collector given his own life span. they wouldn’t have to worry about losing you prematurely and you’d be able to understand the issues he’s faced throughout their long life — whilst also having all the time in the world to grow with him and together as a couple. so they would be hopeful to have a spouse with this trait.
Darius Deamonne
this wouldn’t be a dealbreaker for darius but he would have a serious, long conversation about where you both stand and how your experiences would impact your relationship. he wouldn’t necessarily ask about your past relationships but he would be curious about older ages of magic on the isles and how other realms function — and especially how that can help the rebellion against belos.
Eberwolf
they’re pretty chill about the whole thing, honestly — like it rarely ever comes up in conversation so there’s no real impact on your relationship. you two just continue vibing together and spending the time you have wisely (by having fun) without the stresses such a realisation often bring. really they’re the best person you could have told — they only bring it up once or maybe twice and it’s only to make fun of you (lovingly, of course).
Eda Clawthorne
your immortality means that you have more knowledge of the world before belos and, thus, wild magic and magic as a whole. this means that eda will be looking to you to learn more about the owl beast, the history of those like her and if you ever came to know others with similar curses. she’d also insist on you teaching her about the people you loved and she’ll happily talk about raine (she’s far from the jealous type, but she is something of a gossip). she doesn’t care about making scrapbooks or taking pictures and prefers living in the moment with you and your family — living in the ‘doing’ world rather than focusing on capturing every little thing. you’ll look back on this with king and fleetingly wish you had more pictures, but the memory of her laugh and smile is tangible enough that neither of you feel like you’re missing out on too much.
Edric Blight
he will probably have something of an existential crisis about his own mortality when you tell him and would insist on finding a way to make himself live as long as you do. he starts comparing himself to the people you loved and lost and you’ll end up having to talk him into getting some help for it. your relationship will be permanently changed by this, but you will grow and heal with time — it’s just such a shock for him that he takes a bit of a mental health wobble whilst he comes to terms with it.
Emira Blight
em tends to bottle up her feelings a lot and will initially come off as very accepting and calm about the whole thing — but make no mistake this poor woman is one mislabelled jar of seasoning away from a breakdown. she’s now very aware of her own mortality and that she’s one of the probably dozens you’ve loved and lost and she’s absolutely terrified of being forgotten and lost to the sands of time. she’ll insist on keeping thorough, reliable records of your time together and by the time she’s old and you’re young you’ll be spending your last days together looking over them and laughing and crying and holding each other — finally ready to say goodbye.
Gus Porter
he will bombard you with questions about your life nonstop. did you ever live in the human realm? how has it changed? how has the boiling isles changed? there’s so much he wants to know and he has all the time in the world to listen to you talk — and he will note down everything you say and look at you with complete interest. so yeah he’ll still love you just as much as before, he’s just very nosy and eager to learn.
Hunter Wittebane
hunter is someone that would likely have a few hang-ups regarding true- and pseudo- immortality given his status as a clone/grimwalker. he’d have to do a lot of thinking regarding your relationship once he found out and a lot of serious conversations would be had about his natural lifespan compared to yours. in the end you would stay together and he’d be with you for a significant period of it (a few hundred years given him being similar to palismen) with him insisting that you don’t bring him back once he’s gone.
Lilith Clawthorne
she’d be absolutely entranced by your condition and would start fangirling over everything you must have experienced. you’ll end up getting interviewed and documented in every way possible as she asks about your history in and beyond the isles. though she might spend a bit more time on the deadwardian period than anything else (she’s biased, okay!).
Luz Noceda
luz would be amazed with you and would be eager to learn your story — as well as just about everything about you. she wants to learn your native language and hear about the cultures and people you knew throughout the years, especially if it involves some form of magic. she does, however, insist on making lots of memories with you and recording them so you never forget her.
Mattholomule
another one that doesn’t believe you but in mattholomule’s case he never ends up believing you. in his mind you’re just making a weird joke and there comes a point where you just stop trying to correct him and just live your life out with him — watching him grow old and grey whilst you remain the same. it’s on his death bed when he finally realises, but the life you shared was full of laughter and love so neither of you find it in yourselves to complain.
Odalia Blight
she is the type to use your status to her advantage which means that your relationship dynamic would inevitably shift. like she’d still care about you and be as affectionate as before, but she insists on showing you off and presenting herself as the wife of an immortal being in order to put herself above her fellow witches. you can tell her to knock it off. it will not work.
Raine Whispers
raine is heartbroken for you when they realise just how much you’ve lost throughout your life and they insist on memorialising your lost loved ones however they can. they help you write ballads for deceased lovers and learn to play songs from your home (even if their pronunciation is very shaky) because they care so deeply about you. they don’t talk about their concerns often, but they do ask that you remember them — and they leave you plenty of songs behind to do so.
Steve
as he’s quite possibly the most chilled out person in the boiling isles, steve doesn’t really care about the fact that you’re immortal. like when you tell him he’ll ask you a few questions about yourself and your past, but otherwise your relationship will stay the same and he’ll keep on keeping on. might expect the occasional cool story from your past, though, when you’ve both been drinking some apple blood.
Terra Snapdragon
she will most likely treat this as an opportunity to gain more power through your relationship. like she does care for you as you are her spouse at the end of the day, but she’s also incredibly power-hungry and having a partner who is immortal and has more experience than basically every other living entity is the ideal opportunity for her to get what she wants. so she definitely wouldn’t leave you, but the dynamic between the two of you would definitely change.
Viney
this wouldn’t be the end of your relationship but it would change a lot. viney insists on the two of you continuing to live in the moment together, focusing on making lasting memories doing things that you both love so that you never forget her. that means frequent fun dates, time spent teaching as a team, helping everyone you can and just spending time together doing what you love and having as much fun as you can whilst doing so.
Willow Park
willow is shocked by the revelation of your immortality but she doesn’t make too much of a big deal of it. like she will sit down with you and discuss anything you want to talk about, but generally your relationship remains unchanged. the only change is that she starts writing letters for you and hiding them — wanting to leave something behind for you once she’s gone.
449 notes · View notes
holyfruitsnax · 2 years
Text
You Licked Me First!
Tumblr media
summary: Peter is your best friend, best friends go get ice cream together right? Best friends also get down and dirty when ice cream gets a little messy...Right? Smuttty, smut smut babes!
Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Ayo 18+ Please! Aged up Peter, Smut, Dirty language, Oral fem receiving, Cursing, Peter is slightly cocky (heh)
  You and Peter were nothing more than friends, of sorts. You’d always had a thing for Peter and Peter has always had a thing for you, it was just the way things worked. The two of you didn’t have a defined relationship, just a few sleepovers and some cuddling, you hung out just like any other friends would. Today was no different as you and Peter stopped on the way back to his place for ice cream. New York happened to be hot this summer, and it was killing you, the awful sticky sweat feeling against your skin as Peter walked with you. He was just as pitiful, lapping at his ice cream “Shit- It’s already melting.” He pouted looking over at you for help.
  You laughed thinking of what to do, the place hadn’t sent you away with napkins, so you did the next best thing. Leaning over close to Peter you slid your cool tongue across the heat of his wrist all the way up to his fingers where the spill began. Peter stopped in his tracks watching your lips close around his knuckle making his breath hitch. “What? What else was I supposed to do?” You giggled watching Peter turn towards you silently with a certain determined gleam in his eye. Scooping his arm around you quickly “Hold tight y/n.” He grinned before slinging you both onto the roof of the nearest building.
  Just as you went to pipe up and ask what your friend was doing, a freezing cold, cream landed across your neck. “Oops~” Peter grinned watching vanilla ice cream drip across your skin causing goosebumps to form across its trail. “Peter!” You laughed trying to keep the ice cream from seeping into your low cut top, much to Peter’s enjoyment, the ice cream opted to slip down between the crest of your breasts. Now it was his turn. Taking a stride towards you Peter placed his tongue against your skin like you’d done to him, starting at your neck where he’d purposefully dropped some on you, enjoying the peep you couldn’t keep in. Your face heated in shock and arousal as you watched Peter’s face dip to your tits. His wet tongue plunging between them to ‘clean you up’ as he shoved his face into your soft skin with a satisfied groan.
  “Oh my- You...” Your eyes widened feeling a slight suckle to your skin before Peter popped off licking his lips. “What? Too much?” He looked worried for a moment, that is until you set your cup down and approached Peter “Listen you licked me first!”. “Shut up.” you sighed and smashed your lips against his. “MMm, ah gotcha.” He laughed speaking a bit muffled as he backed you up to a shadier area on the roof, placing his own cup down to grab your ass instead loving the breathy noise it brought from your throat. Taking his moment, Peter slipped his tongue into your mouth licking at the sweet aftertaste of your ice cream. “Pete~” you moaned grinding your hips forwards against his, drawing a moan from Peter, Hands working to untuck his t-shirt, glazing your hand over his muscular form.
  “What is it babe? What do you need?” He teased toying with the hem of your skirt. “You want these?” He spoke cockily while curling his fingers in the air in front of you making you whine. “Yes.” You swallowed thickly feeling Peter grip your ass once more before beginning to kneel, taking the time to squeeze and nip at the soft skin of your thighs. Bringing one of your legs over his shoulder Peter slipped a finger behind your panties, gathering the moisture that had built at your core. “Oh y/n~ Did I do this?” Peter raised a brow feigning innocence. Slipping his finger into his mouth letting his eyes flutter shut, a deep pleased groan fell from his lips before he smacked them “Damn that’s good.”. Peter smirked winking up at you, enjoying the way you moaned and squirmed under his gaze.
  Peter tugged your wet panties down and out of the way, placing his mouth on your heat making you moan out and lace your fingers into his hair. Finally, his tongue plunged in and out of your cunt, fingers digging into the skin of your hips. Pulling away with heavy breaths, Peter looked up at you, standing silently he slid his fingers into his nearby mostly melted ice cream. Pressing them against your lips he couldn’t help the dark chuckle he let out as your lips eagerly parted for him to shove his ice cream coated fingers into your mouth. Peter grinned at how desperate you looked. Legs still spread slightly while you leaned against the wall. “So needy, you always feel this way about me?” He asked watching your tongue swirl around his middle finger trying to ignore the way his cock twitched with just as much need. “Uhuh.” You nodded feeling a little drool spill out of the corner of your lips, Peter removed his fingers from your mouth so he could slip one into your heat making your head lull back. “Think about you like this, all the time, want you to fuck me.” You huffed tugging at his brown curls making Peter hiss in pleasure. 
  Peter’s warm eyes shot up to yours at the request, fuck? He pushed another finger into you letting you enjoy the stretch, thumb rolling circles on your clit. “My pleasure babe~” Peter grinned pulling his fingers out of you, quickly shoving them back into his own mouth to satiate himself while you fumbled around with his pants button and zipper. You reached your hand down between the both of you, freeing Peter’s dick watching it spring to life out of his boxers. “I’m not the only eager one~” You teased back making Peter roll his eyes and shake his head. “How could I not be?” He mumbled kissing your lips giving you a taste of yourself. “Jump.” He commanded slapping your ass before hoisting you up against the brick behind you, making sure not to hurt you in the process. You held your skirt up with one hand, watching Peter line himself up with your entrance, pushing in slowly pulling a groan from both of your throats. “God, you feel so damn good y/n.” He praised placing a kiss to your neck “So warm, soft..”. You felt as though you’d explode, his words encouraging you to roll your hips against Peter’s as he reached the hilt.
  Taking that as a sign Peter thrusted in and out of you at an even pace, your lips sucking purple bruises into his skin as a reminder for later while Peter’s released a breathy moan. “Shit...” You moaned feeling Peter speed up his thrusts gripping at your chest with his free hand. “You’re doing so good Pete, fill me up so nice.” You spoke huskily against Peter’s ear making him shudder, glancing down to watch himself slide in and out of you. “Fuck it.” He growled pulling you off the wall, he was rough but still a little careful as he shoved your back against the cool concrete below. Your hair stuck to the back of your neck as Peter drove his hips into yours, one hand placed beside your head to hold himself up, the other rolling circles against your clit causing your legs to shake.
  “Pete I’m-” Peter hushed you with a passionate kiss, slipping his tongue back into your mouth again letting you explore this time. “Mmhmm.” He nodded quickening his pace as best he could through sloppy thrust. A few more thrust and you were coming undone beneath him, body convulsing slightly from pleasure, crying out against his lips as you clung to Peter who kept thrusting until he came undone too, pulling out to let his seed spill across your thighs, you swallowed the loud moan Peter let out, the both of you heavily panting. “That was- Holy shit.” Peter laughed proud of himself while trying to think of how the hell he was going to clean you up. “So, are we?” He gestured taking off his t-shirt leaving him in a white tank top. “If you clean me up, we’re whatever you want.” You joked propping yourself up on your elbows watching Peter scramble to clean your legs up with his shirt.
My First smuttttt! Hopefully it’s alright but I like it! Love ya Darlin’s <3 -Snax
2K notes · View notes
carrymelikeimcute · 5 months
Text
I'm in my feels again so lets talk about Izzy Hands and violence.
I read a novel ages ago, where an older guy takes a young orphan boy under his wing and teaches him a trade - it's medieval times and said boy becomes a young adult and wants a sword, but his pseudo-father/boss/friend tells him he can't have one, because if he has one, he'll draw it and if he draws it, he could be killed. The safest thing is, paradoxically, to carry no weapons. To learn control of one's temper and control over your surroundings.
The scenes of Izzy and Stede in ep.7 at Jackie's reminded me of that novel.
Obviously Izzy has weapons, tends to put his hand on his sword during arguments and we do see him fighting and killing people. HOWEVER, I think it's really interesting that, given how often we talk about Izzy being repressed (emotionally/sexually/gender-ly) and how controlled he attempts to be, we don't often talk about his controlled approach to violence.
A lot of fic characterises him as someone who is hot tempered and violent, but looking at s1 with fresh eyes, between him and Ed, he's definitely not just the cooler head when it comes to instigating violence, but the one who takes less interest in violence for its own sake as a performance - e.g. Ed's very creative instructions with the tiny fork, the toe thing etc vs Izzy just stabbing Stede. It's a means to an end.
Don't think I'm not saying he has a fucking temper and a half, because he obviously does, but that seems to mostly be vented non-violently through yelling - not yelling at strangers either, but at people he knows and can (usually) judge where the line is.
Until he puts a toe over that line and...oops.
On first meeting Stede, Izzy cuts up his shirt without actually hurting him. It's a threat, but he hasn't drawn blood, hasn't started anything violent...yet. It's almost a display intended to dissuade actual fighting, by showing your potential opponent that they're probably going to lose.
I think one of the reasons Izzy's so annoyed about their losses in the battle with the Spanish is that it's not their fight. They didn't get anything from it - it was pointless (to him, not to Ed obvs). He wants to avoid facing the Spanish again in the following episode, because they stand to lose more than they will gain.
Even when he's actively calling for Ed to kill Stede, he isn't fussy about how. (And he uses manipulation to keep his hands clean - something he does again when selling Ed out to the navy.) Stede needs to be gone, and this is the easiest way to do that. And when he does finally lose it he doesn't just attack Stede without warning - it's within the controlled setting of a duel, which, when Stede starts improvising, breaks down Izzy's control and leads to him becoming emotional, making a mistake and getting his sword broken.
In s2 the pointlessness of the raids is obviously getting to him, disrupting a wedding for no real gain. Losing Ivan for nothing. I don't think the violence is what bothers him, he's a very active participant, but the fact that it's not for anything - it's not enough of a reward in and of itself. (It's like not really caring one way or the other about being a barista, it's just what you do and it's fine, but then suddenly you're not being paid and also your boss keeps burning you with the steam wand on purpose and you just sort of wish you could just get on with your job and make rent like before.)
S1 Izzy seems to lack the whimsy and imagination that Ed/Stede bring to piracy and to violence, but that doesn't make him stupid. They're playing some kind of made-up game that only they know the rules for, and he's trying to play chess with everyone, even when the rules are only a burden to him.
When we see him training, he's being a dramatic candlelit bitch, but he's also measuring his movements, focusing intently and not just hacking away at everything. Even the candles are interesting to me in this context - we see him playing with candles several times in S1/2 and while yes, there is a certain amount of 'Izzy likes pain' in there to unpick, it's also kind of a metaphor for control - fire is one of the most dangerous things to have on a 'wooden vessel' but a candle is like a tiny pet fire that you control - so long as you're careful and respectful. It's all about risk management, respecting dangerous forces and being aware.
When Stede kills Ned, Izzy looks impressed, even seems to smile for a second, but then he looks more subdued and tells Ed that the first kill is a head-fuck. It's like he's proud of Stede being ABLE to kill, but regretful that Stede CHOSE to kill in a situation where it wasn't necessary at all.
I don't think for a moment that Izzy regrets killing most of the people he kills as part of pirate life, but I think he would regret killing someone he didn't have to. Most people wouldn't want to carry that around with them.
We see in ep7. that Izzy is well respected at Jackie's. He tells bigger guys than him to fuck off and just takes people's chairs. He gets called 'Mr. Hands' instead of by his first name. There's a lot of respect there and I think some of it comes from his reputation with Ed, but also, from people knowing that he's not insane - he can be treated respectfully and everything will be fine for all involved. He's not some menace that's going to stab you as likely as pat you on the back.
For all that people are afraid of Blackbeard (and maybe slightly in awe of Stede as of the Ned thing) for their unpredictable natures and occasional violent outbursts, people are still attacking them or pandering to them, actual respect is something else entirely.
Later, Izzy doesn't pull a weapon and tries to discourage Stede from doing so, even tries to get him to leave to prevent a fight from starting. In the fight, he smashes a stool over someone and doesn't just start killing people - it's an appropriate level of violence for the situation, not an escalation.
It feels like Izzy is very much in that place of controlling himself, being aware and knowing when and how to use force practically, proportionally and effectively. This might be age related, but it's also a big part of his personality. I think that's also why he looks impressed by what Zheng does to Steak Knife (rip) because it's so precise, bloodless and quick. She's basically the best captain for him - she's efficient and controlled.
It's easy to confuse 'is willing to kill' with 'is eager to kill'. I don't think Izzy necessarily loathes that part of his job, he seems ambivalent, but it is still a job to him. It's what pirates do, much as the crew of the Revenge do still kill people, it's just part of their life and not some kind of performance or fun activity. It's work, and it's hard and it's unpleasant and if something can be done an easier way - a smarter way - then that's probably the best way.
178 notes · View notes
fleursbending · 1 year
Note
hello! i saw that u write for avatar and i was wondering if u could write something about kiri x f!na'vi!reader please, maybe the 'reader fell first but she fell harder' type?
𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭. |Kiri Sully
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : in which you catch feelings for kiri first. but she falls far harder than she initially realised once catching them too. or in other words, they are both whipped and gay!
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : kiri x fem!metkayina reader
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : this one for the gays !! anyways yay my first post for kiri, and i'm slowly making my way through the requests. thank you for all the luv and support. feedback and reblogs are much appreciated!🫶🏻 i suggest listening to this specific song whilst reading as it is loosely based around it! special shoutout to @eywaskiss for her help with this, ily <3!!! i am down to make a part 2 for this if ppl want it.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : floofy fluff, smidge of angst, yearning, reader is so clumsy and flustered i luv her, tsireya being ur wingwoman, whipped & silly kiri! bold = na'vi words. time works differently here, ignore how fast it actually is in atwow. not proofread oops i'm too tired.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.4k words !
Tumblr media
𝐘/𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 first time she caught sight of Kiri. She and Tsireya were looking for seashells when they heard the horn going off. Swimming back to the shore, she saw Ikrans landing on the sand.
While she wasn't terrified, she was certainly confused. Ikrans do not come here. Omaticaya and Metkayina do not cross each others paths.
People of the forest hopped off their Ikrans, and you saw a girl who looked your age stand close to what you assumed was her mother.
While Tsireya was being ogled by one of the young forest boys, you couldn't draw your eyes away from her.
A foreign feeling entangled itself in the pit of your belly as you watched Ronal point out what she deemed to be "flaws" in the girl.
You didn't even know her name but the urge to already protector scratched at your being.
Y/n could only hope there'd be an encounter where she'd be able to learn more about the mysterious forest girl.
Little did she know that moment would come sooner than she would have thought.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚˳೫˚
You observed Kiri with a tilt of your head as she glided through the water and the reefs as if it was second nature to her.
While the boys were battling with their own egos and learning how to ride Ilu's. Y/n and Tsireya decided that Tuk and Kiri could explore the water some more.
They'd done a few lessons at this point, their breathing improving. But Kiri was a true mystery to you. There was something otherworldly about her that you could not pinpoint.
It frustrated you to no end, the ocean had accepted her the moment she made contact with it. She had no issues with breathing, and now apparently even riding an Ilu!
Y/n's mouth gaped as she watched the Ilu nuzzle his head against Kiri's. In a blink of an eye, she'd made tsaheylu with the Ilu and started to ride him towards you.
Tsireya on her own Ilu turned to give Kiri and Tuk an encouraging smile. Y/n called for her Ilu, following them.
As they breezed through the ocean, all admiring the beauty surrounding them. But Y/n had already seen this more than her few fingers could count, so instead of admiring the scenery around her. Her eyes could not seem to stray away from Kiri's figure.
It seems she was enamored with the girl from the Omaticaya clan As she caught up to them all, Kiri looked at her - giving her a grin that could battle the beauty of the sea life surrounding them.
In just a mere moment, she felt like a floundering fish needing to surface for air. These are abundant feelings that have never occupied her life before.
Sure, she always knew she had a preference for girls rather than boys. But there hadn't been a situation handed to her where she had to confront such taboo concepts.
Y/n could only nod her head in acknowledgment, too fearful to smile back in fear that she'd somehow slip off her Ilu if Kiri paid any more attention to her than necessary.
She was truly and utterly, doomed. Y/n wish she could cease to exist at this moment as Kiri steered her Ilu closer to hers in a teasing manner.
Y/n while bashful, repeated her actions - their Ilu's almost brushing.
The current of the waves somehow made the line of seashells intricately wrapped in her hair that was once laying on her forehead. Now tugged down to block her vision.
Kiri's hand slapped against her mouth, morphing her giggles to try not to choke on water. Leaning sideways, she lifted the shells, smoothing down your hair.
Now it was your turn to try not to choke on water, again.
If Y/n was keeping her resolve before, she definitely was failing at it now.
She signed, "Thank you". It was one of the only new phrases that they had been teaching the Sully daughter which she was able to pick up on quite quickly.
Oh Eywa, this was ridiculous. Why did Tsireya have to drag her into all this?
࿐ ࿔*:・゚˳೫˚
Tsireya motioned to you guys, as you hopped on rocks toward the destination she was leading you towards.
It was time for you, Roxto, and Tsireya to teach the Sullys some of the ways of the Metkayina clan again. They thought it would be best to get breathing out of the way first.
"Come on!" She beckoned you guys over to a particularly larger one compared to the rest. Giving you a sly smirk she made sure to take the second to last available spot so you had no choice but to sit next to Kiri.
Your dear friend may have heard your extensive rant after the events that occurred when you were riding on your Ilu's yesterday. While Y/n did not outright confess her very apparent crush on the girl, Tsireya did not have to be dense to realise this.
Y/n seemed to just have figured this out as she hesitantly made her way over to the empty space.
"Skxwang", Y/n muttered under her breath as she sat down on the smooth surface of the rock.
Kiri looked at you with wide eyes, thinking that the word had been directed at her.
You fumbled with your words as you shyly tucked your stray strands of hair behind your ears, a nervous tick of yours.
"No, no! Uhm- that wasn't targeted at you it was, I-", You tried to form a proper sentence but seemed to fail to do so.
Kiri registered this and covered her mouth as she giggled, nodding her head in understanding as she took pity on your obviously flustered state.
It strangely felt like deja vu.
Your quiet laughter followed, seeing how dumb you had just sounded.
Although you couldn't help but admire how melodious her laughter was. The effect it had on you felt groundbreaking.
At least this time you weren't underwater with shells blocking your view. This time you were able to really appreciate all of her.
Swiftly, you were hyperaware of how close you had gravitated to each other. Knees touching, shoulders brushing. Oh.
It felt all too consuming, but you were pulled away from the moment once Tsireya cleared her throat.
"Let's get this lesson started, shall we?" She spoke lightly, but there was a hint of playfulness ebbed into it.
Y/n nodded and looked down at her lap, fiddling with her anklet. She blushed (again, dammit), feeling the scorching gaze of Kiri burning an inevitable hole into her soul.
Great mother, this forest girl was going to be the death of her.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚˳೫˚
Time seemed to escape you as eclipse welcomed itself as day turned to night. It was the following day, you hadn't had the chance to follow Tsireya and the Sully's in their daily endeavors as per usual.
Having to catch up on your own chores and help hunt for dinner, you were able to join Ronal and Tsireya to collect some clams.
As Y/n made her way through the maze of intricate woven pathways to the Chief and Tsahiks mauri. The girl was startled at the figures of Kiri and Tuk who were making their way in to said Mauri she was about to enter herself.
Mumbling profanities to herself in Na'vi, she wiped down her palms that were already starting to gather sweat on her upper thighs. Taking in a deep breath, she waltzed into the Mauri only to stumble into the said girl she was hoping not to make contact with.
Kiri whipped around at the sudden contact only to lightly laugh as she once again, beamed at you.
"Y/n, where have you been all day?" Tuk whined at you as she hugged you, wrapping herself around your leg.
You patted her head, cooing at her cuteness before responding to her.
"I had my own chores to do, Tuk. But I'm here now!"
Ronal walked in, holding the bags that would aid you all in being able to carry more clams.
"Let's go, girls." She commandeered you all out of the mauri and towards the seemingly never-ending ocean.
As you all dove into the ocean, the bioluminescent reef life drew you in like a tether. Your connection to the ocean was magnetic, instantaneous. Always there and within your reach.
She could only hope that the Sully's would soon feel the same way, especially now that this was their home.
Y/n came to a stop as Tsireya grasped onto the fish that was akin to wings.
She let Tuk turn around before letting it attach to the little girl.
Tsireya signed to them, "This will help you breathe underwater."
Kiri looked to you astounded, you nodded back in reassurance. You knew how she protective she was of her siblings, especially harmless Tuk.
As Y/n swam her way over to where Ronal was beginning to pluck away at clams, you took out your knife - beginning to follow her motions.
Sudden movement beside you caught your attention. Y/n turned her head to see Ronal moving towards a light. Curiosity ate at her, what was that?
She peered around the coral she was removing clams from and saw Tsireya staying close to Tuks side. But where was Kiri?
She followed after Ronal, halting as she gawked at the sight laid out before her.
Kiri was crouching down, maneuvering in sync with the school of fish adjacent to her.
Ronal did not know what to make of this, but due to her overwhelming deep connection to Eywa as well. She knew that this was some sort of sign.
The Sully's must stay.
If Y/n heard her Tsahik thoughts she'd eagerly agree. But her reasons differed from that of spirituality. Instead hers was from that familiar fondness bubbling deep in her chest.
She glowed as if she were the moon itself.
In sheer awe, Y/n could only desire for a possible way to capture this moment for as long as her brain demanded of it. Although she had a feeling this was a moment of significance that would resonate with her for a long time.
A tap on her shoulder broke her from her personal reveries.
"Let her be, we must continue." Ronal signed.
"Yes, Tsahik." Y/n signed back.
Swimming back, she briefly to have one final gaze at Kiri.
It was as if she was looking through rose tinted lenses, this definitely seemed more than a crush now.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚˳೫˚
Kiri was no fool, Y/n was a clumsy one - that's for sure.
But she was more than well aware of the effect she had on the Metkayina girl.
At first, she did not know what to make of it. At that moment, she could only wish for once that she was as dense as Lo'ak. But alas, that was not the case this time.
Every time you made her heart feel like it had soared all the way back to the forest, she would block it out. Kiri felt as if she had bigger fish to fry, lives at stake.
They weren't in the clear yet, and she was essentially made out to be a demon to the entire clan.
So while she thought you fumbling around her was endearing, Kiri could not let it enter the forefront of her mind.
The attempts at doing so failed though.
You were everywhere.
If it wasn't at lessons, it was with her siblings. If it wasn't with her siblings, it was in the ocean. You were always there, and it was all at once.
Days blended into weeks, and weeks became months.
You'd never acted on your feelings, continuing to be oblivious to the fact that the other party had begun to return them.
It hit her like a tidal wave one afternoon.
It had been a few days after her brothers had gotten into a beating to protect her. While she found it funny initially, it now dawned on her.
Was that truly how everyone thought of her? Did Y/n see her in that way?
Her feet dipped in the water as she sat to the side of one of the many walkways that weaved around the Metkayina village.
Kiri watched in the distance as Tuk threw fish in the air, happily cheering as her Ilu jumped up to eat it. Neteyam laughed at her and squeezed the youngest Sully's shoulders.
Her ears perked up, tilting at the side where the sound of footsteps drew closer to her.
Y/n sat down beside her, letting her legs also dangle as her toes dipped into the ocean.
There was a very obvious space between them, Y/n didn't want to be overbearing. She had not been there when the fight broke out, but she was more than self-aware of the aftermath.
While it looked like Ao'nung was becoming buddies with the sons of the renowned Toruk Makto. She could only wonder how Kiri must have felt.
They'd become a lot closer in the last few weeks. Y/n could only hope that due to that, it didn't look too odd that she looked out for her.
"Ao'nung and his friends can be a pain, I'm sorry." She treaded lightly with her wording, unsure of how to approach the conversation.
But Y/n couldn't settle, especially having witnessed Kiri become far more reserved in the past few days.
Kiri finally turned to glance at her.
Y/n watched as her mouth opened and closed a few times. It reminded her of the fish that swam beneath their feet.
In spite of that, she waited.
She'd wait for however long it took for her to find the proper words. To convey the train of thoughts that were spiraling in that pretty head of hers.
Finally, she caught them. "I just wish I wasn't like...this." Kiri trailed off, envy riddled in her tone.
Kiri looked down at her hands.
Y/n looked around before scooting closer.
Her hand reached out, hovering over Kiri's for a second. She grasped it in her own.
"This version of you is what makes you who you are. My clan has not granted Uturu to anyone not of Metkayina before. They simply fear the unknown." Y/n explained as she let the feeling of the ripples of the water hitting her legs consume her.
Kiri was going to respond, yet you continued.
"Yes, my people are acting on said fear irrationally. For that, I am deeply sorry. But, in due time - they will grow to accept you all. Just like, uhm, I have." You squeezed her hand before letting it rest on her lap once again.
Kiri had to hold herself back from complaining about it, she already missed your touch. Once again, she had to jump through hurdles to find her words.
All she could muster out was her usual smile (that she had yet to realise was only reserved for you). And a "Thank you, Thank you so much."
Your hand reached out again, yearning for Kiri's hand but instead, you placed it on her shoulder.
Eclipse was nearing, you must go.
Y/n did not utter another word as she stood up. She turned, making her way back home.
Kiri's legs were only partially in the water. Even so, she felt like she was six feet under.
The ardent flames blazed beneath her heart. Abruptly, you now existed in the forefront of her mind. Shit.
Your eyes, your teal body, your hair. Everything that consisted of you, and only you. It sunk into every crevice of her soul, making itself snug and at home there.
The way you smelled, like the ocean yet also the flora that surrounded the village. How you held yourself differently amongst your friends compared to the elders of the community.
The way you took Tuk under your wing, how the moment she landed her Ikran in an unknown place. You treated her like anything but the harsh words she thought she was.
Just like that, you had become her entire world.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚˳೫˚
You and Tsireya giggled together as you continued to weave fishing nets that would be used for tomorrow's hunt.
As you reached for more rope, a shadow cast over you both - hindering the sun from entering your family's Mauri.
Both of you frantically looked up, your shoulders sinking down as you only saw Kiri standing there.
"Oh, Kiri! I didn't know you were joining us." Tsireya commented her elbow nudging into your side. You wanted to smack the girl.
Kiri's eyes darted around your mauri, her behaviour suddenly mirroring yours. "Uhm! No, I actually wasn't. Actually, can I borrow Y/n for a moment?"
Y/n's eyes widened, finger-pointing at herself in question.
"Yes, you." Kiri sighed.
Tsireya nudged you again, forcing you to stand up.
"Be my guest!" She mused, giving you a wink as Kiri turned around.
Your hands made a choking motion, making Tsireya only howl in laughter.
Rolling her eyes, Y/n made her way out of her Mauri.
Kiri nervously twiddled her thumbs, "Follow me."
Before you could ask her where you both were even going, she had already started walking away.
Y/n stumbled, following after her.
It was silent, nearing the eclipse. Kiri brought you over to a part of the village that was usually uninhabited at this part of the evening.
You began to feel nervous as folded your arms over your chest, feet kicking at the sand under you.
"Sooo..." You said to try to break the silence. Her stomach was churning, and her appetite for tonight's meal has vanished in an instant.
Kiri looked out into the crystal-clear ocean, before peering at you.
"I-I. I like you! I know, I shouldn't. But you're absolutely maddening, do you know that? You're so clumsy, it's stupid that it's so adorable. You weren't supposed to have this impact on me! I just wanted to learn the people's way!" Kiri confessed, words spewing out of her like a waterfall.
Y/n could only survey her, mouth agape. Kiri was restless as she paced around.
"You always say something, why aren't you saying something?!" Kiri demanded, still not being able to settle.
Y/n fumbled, trying to appease the poor girl. "Well, I- I didn't know you were into girls."
"Infuriating!" Kiri threw her hands up in the air.
The immensely shocked girl cleared her throat. Tucking strands of her behind her ear, she took determined steps towards Kiri.
Her hands fell onto her shoulders, effortlessly making her halt all movements.
"I'm the infuriating one? I swear to god you're Eywa in disguise. I thought this whole time, that this was all one-sided! I stayed silent, and I yearned for you from afar. Yes, I'm clumsy, and I'm bad with my words most of the time!" Y/n heaved for a breath, before continuing.,
"Yet, I still like you. And I always will, because I've become accustomed to you. I see into you. Kiri, please. Look at me." She grasped her chin, turning it so they could look into each other's eyes.
"You see into me?" Kiri questioned, leaning her forehead against yours.
Lips hovering over the other, you gushed in response.
"Of course I do."
Her hand nestled into your hair, pushing you further in. Breathing and taking each other in, your lips met in a searing kiss.
You separated from each other once you both had to catch your breath.
"Don't those lessons come in handy?" Kiri inquired, a teasing glint in her eyes.
"Shut up." Y/n muttered as she smacked Kiri's arm that had wrapped around her waist.
The lovesick girl could only laugh in retaliation, urging you into a warm hug.
You were both fools, but you acted in such a way just to please the other.
Thank Eywa you are both into girls.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚˳೫˚
BONUS :
Tsireya let out a silent cheer as she high-fived Lo'ak.
"I knew it!" She mused whilst leaning into the young boy.
Lo'ak could only groan in disgust at the blossoming couple before him.
"I was the only one supposed to be in a relationship right now!" He whined.
Tsireya rolled her eyes, smacking him on the back of his head.
Skxwangs.
Tumblr media
𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑
⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡
640 notes · View notes
ihearthes · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Christmas Thyme part 1
Author: @ihearthes
Pairing: Harry x Reader Insert (1st person)
Rating: Smut (NSFW, 18+ Only)
Word Count: 2665
‘Tis a week before Christmas, and just as I am preparing to twist the “Open” sign to its “Closed” side, the bell over the door jingles. Inwardly, I groan. Outwardly, I paste on my brightest smile as I pivot towards my (hopefully) final customer of a very long, very exhausting day. 
I freeze. 
Because standing there in the doorway of my boutique is Harry Styles. THE Harry Styles. You know. As It Was. Watermelon Sugar. Sex on a stick. That last one isn’t a song. Just a description. 
“Um, hi,” I mumble, not knowing what else to say, but then I quickly tack on a “How may I help you?” 
His eyebrows draw downwards, and he looks around at the merchandise which, after a long day of Saturday sales in the last few frantic days before the most important gift-buying holiday of the year, is scattered everywhere. 
I’ve no idea if I want him to decide to leave immediately or if I should beg him to stay and shop. I do neither. 
But only because I spot another person on the street outside, pointing at one of the most sought after and most frequently purchased soy candles. She and her friend appear to be heading towards the door, so I summon the last of my energy and lunge for the door ahead of them, pulling the shade while simultaneously rotating the lock. My panicked movements mean I jostle the popstar as he stands nearby. 
“Oops! I’m so sorry. I just…” 
“Are you open or closed?” He asks, worry etched on his forehead where it peeks out underneath his black beanie. I take him in, recognising his face instantly. With a pair of joggers, he wears a black Pleasing crewneck, and I’m briefly jealous of how cosy it looks. I wouldn’t mind snuggling close – to the crewneck, of course. 
I am, after all, a competent businesswoman. Pfft. Okay, I’m trying to be one. 
“We’re closed now, but if you don’t have much to shop for, you’re welcome to look around while I tidy up in preparation for Tuesday’s maniacal clientele. 
He grunts, and I assume it’s affirmation that he’d like to look around, so I nod. “Are you looking for something in particular? Or shopping for a certain someone?” Wracking my brain, I attempt to recall if he’s currently dating anyone, but I’ve no idea. Since opening up my pop up last month, I’d not had time to do much more than work daily until exhaustion forces me to crawl into bed with a heating pad on my back and warm peppermint compresses on my feet. 
“Just looking…” He smiles, and I’m nearly blinded by the left dimple. 
Holy shit. No wonder he’s so popular. 
I have the silly idea that I should sniff him. It would be easy to make a tonne of money from bottling his scent and selling it. Then I would have enough money to set up a permanent shop to sell my organic candles, soaps, and lotions. 
Resisting only because I have managed to maintain some self-respect after being yelled at and cursed at by customers all day long, I decide to provide him some privacy. 
“Absolutely. Let me know if you have any questions.” 
He nods once, and I swear my insides melt into a puddle like Frosty the Snowman when the sun has come out. 
Stepping to the counter, I fiddle with the sound system, turning off the grating holiday tunes that permeate the atmosphere this time of year and sliding instead into some soothing jazz from Alfa Mist. As soon as the first song starts playing, Harry’s head whips around and he stares in my direction. 
“Excellent choice.” His voice is gravelly and kind with a bit of surprise in it. 
“It’s the kind of music I prefer,” I shrug, not knowing what else to say. 
“Me too.” 
It’s such a surprising thing for him to say that I do my own double take, but he’s returned already to smelling the candles on the wall display. 
Shrugging, I move to the first shelves to the right of the register, straightening products, and making mental notes of what I need to restock. When I move to the next set of shelves, though, it’s clear that a mental note isn’t going to be of any help. There are simply too many hand lotions, soaps, and other products that need to be replaced. Sighing, I move behind the counter again, withdrawing a pad of paper. Quickly, I jot down what I need to replace on the first two shelves. 
Turning my head, I see that Harry has barely finished sniffing one shelf of candles. “Um…” He glances up at my utterance. “...would you mind if I stepped into the back to grab some more stock?” 
“Whatever you need to do.” His voice is so silky that I could easily wear it and nothing else against my skin forever. 
In the small stockroom, I remove my shoes, wiggling my toes that have been screaming at me for the last two hours. Grabbing a basket I keep for just this purpose, I fill it with the items on my list before stepping back onto the main floor. The coolness of the tiles under my toes is soothing, and I sigh at the pleasure of it on my hot skin. Quickly, I restock the first two shelves, giving my feet a workout as I have to rise onto my toes multiple times. My knees also get to practise squatting so I can place items on the bottom shelf. 
After I slide my protesting feet back into my shoes, I sneak a peek to check on Harry. He’s moved on to the next set of shelves, opening the sample shampoos and smelling them one by one. 
At this rate, he’ll be here another hour at least. 
Surveying the third set of shelves, I jot down the merchandise I need to pull from the back for this one. It’s the shelf of eye compresses I’ve made that include differing herbs to soothe the skin around the eyes and quiet the mind. With a quick glance at Harry, I return to the storeroom, trying to recall where I’d placed the box holding more eye compresses. 
Spying it on a higher shelf, hiding behind a box of the scented rice neck pillows I’d designed to be heated and worn next to the skin, I stand on my tiptoes in order to reach. Just — one — more — inch — CRASH! Both boxes clatter to the ground, the sides splitting open on the box holding the neck pillows, and I sigh. 
“Are you okay?” 
His voice startles me, and I jump like that time I’d been forced to watch a horror movie by my previous boyfriend. The arsehole. 
Placing my hand on my chest to calm my pounding heart, I smile at where his head has emerged through the curtain separating the sales floor and stockroom. 
“Thank you for checking on me. I’m okay. Just knocked off a couple of boxes.” 
“Shit. That looks annoying. Let me help.” He muscles his way past the curtain, assisting me by setting the box right side up. I locate the roll of packing tape I’d used earlier to package some items for a customer who wanted them delivered, handing the tape to Harry as he repairs the box. “I’m Harry.” His introduction is endearing, and I share my name too. 
“No one else working tonight?” His hushed tones do things to my body that are inappropriate for work. 
“No one else is working ever. It’s my shop, and I couldn’t afford to pay for help this year.” 
“Damn. How do you manage?” 
“Well, I take it slow on nights like this with the restocking and tidying because I know I’ll get the next two days to soak my feet and relax.”
“But how do you do it during the day with all the customers?” 
“I think that’s clear from the state of the front. I muddle through.” My shrug is intended to communicate that there’s no real answer to that question. 
“Can I help?” 
“YOU?” I yelp, clamping both hands over my mouth at my shriek. 
“Why not me?” 
“Um, cause you’re Harry Styles.” 
When he smiles this time, his eye crinkles come into focus, and I’m lost in him. I could stare at those crows’ feet all night, I think. 
“And that means I can’t help?” 
“It means that you probably have plenty of plans that don’t include stocking shelves.” 
“Hmmm… tonight, I actually do not have plans. My sister and I were supposed to shop for our mum, and then my sister ended up ill, so…” Trailing off, he raises both hands to the side in imitation of a shrug. “You can pay me by helping me choose gifts for my mum and my sister. And my manager’s wife. And maybe the wives of my friends.” 
“That’s silly. I’d help you with that for free.” 
“Ah, well then, you can take me out to dinner after we’re done.” 
My jaw drops. Dinner with Harry Styles? 
Is he asking me out on a date? 
“Just as repayment, right?” I ask. 
“For starters,” he smirks, and my panties become uncomfortable as I rub my legs together. “I’ll take these boxes out front.” Bending his knees, he picks up the box of neck pillows with the box of eye compresses on top. Striding through the curtain, he drops the boxes on the floor and immediately starts artfully arranging the merchandise. Occasionally, he brings a pillow to his nose and breathes in deeply. 
Mesmerised, I watch from the door to the store room. After a few minutes, he removes his coat, carefully draping it over the counter, smiling at me as I straighten the bottles of lotion on the table, ensuring that the rosemary mint doesn’t get mixed up with the rosemary thyme. It’s easy to get them confused as the labels are similar. 
“How long did it take you to prepare all of this?” Harry asks, his hand encompassing the entire shop. 
“All year. My dad –” I pause as emotion invades my throat, layering it with sorrow. Finally, I swallow, clearing the grief. “My dad was ill for the last couple of years, so I quit my job to move in and take care of him. I started growing the herbs in his garden. And then I needed something to do with all of the herbs I grew, so I started making soaps and selling them at the local farmer’s market. Demand was swift, and I’ve been expanding the line for the last eight months or so.” 
“That’s amazing!” His face has lit up like the Christmas tree that’s in the corner of the shop, and his grin takes over his entire countenance. “And how’s your dad doing now?” 
I wince. “He actually died in July.”
“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss.” 
My watery smile hopefully conveys my gratitude. “He was ready to go. At least that’s what he told me. And I needed a project after his death to keep me busy while I cleaned out the house and prepared to sell it.” 
“Sell it? Why?” 
Moving to the next table, I straighten the bars of soap. Wiping a tear from my eye, I answer his question. “Too many memories. I’ve had a lot of loss in my life, and now I’m the only one left in my immediate family. So when I’m in the house, all I can see are the people no longer with me.” 
“That must be hard.” His hand rests on my shoulder, and I’m startled because I hadn’t realised he’d approached. 
“It’s life. Lucky for me, I have my dreams to keep me going.” 
“Dreams of expanding beyond a popup shop at the holidays?” 
“Something like that,” I nod. 
“Sounds lovely. Listen, I’m done with these shelves, and those over there look pretty good. I, um, straightened them earlier when I was testing the product. Is there a broom so I can sweep up?” 
Astonished, I blink at him. “No. No. No. I draw the line at having a number one pop musician sweep my floor.” 
He giggles, his laugh growing until he’s slapping his knee, his full body moving with glee as he heartily releases his mirth. “So if I were the number one classical musician or number one jazz musician or number one country musician, you’d be okay with me cleaning the floor?”
Seeing the humour in my comment, I laugh along with him. “Okay. Okay. You’ve found me out. Only pop musicians aren’t allowed to sweep up. Everyone else is fair game.” 
Bopping me on the nose, he grins. “Good thing I’m not a number one pop musician tonight. I’m just a customer who is quite taken with your goods.” 
And the way he rakes his eyes over my body lets me know that he’s not talking about the merchandise on the shelves. 
Dammit. Why don’t I keep a pair of spare knickers in my bag in case I run into the handsomest man alive? Because the ones I’m wearing right now are ruined. 
Sticking his head through the curtain and peering into the back, he joyfully exclaims, “There it is!” Seconds later, he’s pushing the broom around the shop floor, and I am both pleased and appalled. 
Reluctant to let him do all the work, I watch him and squirm. Using the broom as a partner, he dances to the music, and I can’t help the giggle that escapes. 
“I remember when you couldn’t dance at all,” I reveal, then clamp my hands over my mouth at my rudeness. 
“Some would say I still can’t.” 
“Screw ‘em.” I grin. “Listen, I’m about to count up the money for a night deposit. Are you planning to pay with cash or credit?” 
Wincing, he bites his lip, resting his arm on top of the broom handle. “Oh yeah. I was having so much fun that I forgot I was here to shop.” He looks around at the merchandise. “You’re taking me out for dinner, right?” One eyebrow raises while the other stays in place. It’s a talent not many have. 
“I believe that was the deal in exchange for your labour.”
“Then let’s eat first. I can tell you about those I need to shop for, and you can decide what would be most fitting for each.” 
“Hmmm…” I tease, “Are you trying to get out of buying products from me?” 
“Nope,” he grins, stepping closer to me. “Trying to let you get to know me more.” 
“Who's to say I don’t already know everything about you?” 
“Ah, I see.” The expression on Harry’s face is smug. “You wanna have a quiz? Find out what exactly you know and don’t know?” 
“Sure,” I smile, “but somehow I’m not sure I trust you. You could easily say all of my answers are wrong, and I wouldn’t be able to contradict you.” 
“Let’s start. What colour are my eyes?” 
“Are you taking the piss? They’re green. That one’s easy ‘cause I can see them.” 
“Okay, okay. You got one right. What colour are my lips?” 
Which of course drags my eyes right to the body part in question. And they look lush. Soft. Slightly chapped, but not enough to keep me from… 
Shit. I’ve gotten lost in staring at his lips. 
“I didn’t hear your answer.” 
My tongue dips out to lick my own lips, and he steps closer, his eyes locked on my tongue. Shaking my head, I dart my gaze back to his eyes, and I can feel his breath on my cheek. Leaning forward, he reaches his arm to my left, and I briefly wonder if he’s going to wrap his arm around my waist and haul me to him for a snogging session. 
Which is when he grabs his coat from the counter. 
“Let’s count the money so you can make your deposit. I’m getting hungry.” 
Really? I'm experiencing a powerful thirst.
Author's note: Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed it, please reblog. I know not everyone reblogs, but it really helps writers out.
READ PART 2 HERE
139 notes · View notes
catgirlpetur · 1 year
Text
From my magazine article collection, Pete Wentz for Out. (Long post, full articles under the cut.)
Tumblr media
Pete Wentz Out Magazine cover, August 2008
This Charming Man by Shana Naomi Krochmal for Out.com, June 29th 2008
[Article Begins]
"I feel like the drink of choice at this hour really changes people’s perspective on you,” Pete Wentz says, settling in for lunch at a swank Hollywood hotel. “I like to give a piece a good intro: ‘And then he had a beer.’ ” His prefab opening anecdote fits particularly well with the sweatpants he’s wearing. “Oops,” he jokes, predicting my editor’s reaction to his straight-dude shtick before settling on an iced vanilla latte.
Wentz also suggests two sidebars for this article (“a thermostat of my gayness” and a quiz with real and fake quotes about his sexuality) and asks if him being in Out is akin to the Beastie Boys doing Vibe. “Will you get flak for having someone like me on the cover?” he asks, sounding more concerned for the magazine’s reputation than his own.
Like a line he wrote in “Sugar, We’re Goin’ Down,” the band’s 2005 breakout hit -- I’ve been dying to tell you anything you want to hear -- Wentz seems all too aware of how his words and actions will play on the page, not to mention the entertainment TV shows and blogs that eagerly mine his confessional, sensationalist tendencies. But he draws the line at painting a self-portrait that’s easier for his more narrow-minded detractors -- or even fans -- to swallow.
What Wentz wants us to see is a complex, sometimes contradictory image. “I’m like the boy next door,” he quips, “but just a little bit off.”
But while he may have a bulldog’s attitude and more than a dozen tattoos, Wentz isn’t intimidating enough to stop the hate parade. “When I’m going down the street I get called a fag all the time,” he says. Instead of bothering to deny it, he shifts deftly to mocking the bullies’ Neanderthal mentality: “We have iPhones, and I’m still getting called the same names as when I was 13.” It’s a 10-second sound bite so succinct in its disdain he’ll use variations for months in blog posts and other interviews.
He readily cops to having appropriated queer culture, just as early white rock and roll artists ripped off black music and went mainstream. “If I was gay,” he says, “and I saw people playing with it, being ambiguous, I don’t really know how I would feel. I look back at Elvis and I’m like, Was Elvis a dick?”
Even with 6 million Fall Out Boy albums sold worldwide, another 5 million by bands signed to his own label, a pop princess on his arm, a baby on the way, and a new deal to sell his clothing line at Nordstrom stores, Wentz remains impulsive and profane. He’s also transparently annoyed at friends who warned that whatever sexually suggestive comments he makes will feed tabloid headlines for a year. “There’s part of me that’s like, Fuck you, I do what I want,” he says with a curled lip. “ ‘Don’t do that’? Now I’m just going to do that 10 times in a row.”
Like his friend Kanye West, he’s found that “whenever you say that homophobia is stupid, you just get called gay.” Lucky for us, he sees his ever-growing audience as an opportunity to fuck with the minds of anyone who thinks there’s something wrong with that. “Homophobia is the last acceptable hatred,” he says and writes, frequently and wearily.
“People treat sexuality the same way that [during] Jim Crow [white] people treated African-Americans,” he tells me. “It’s totally dehumanized.” It could be his view from the stage -- Fall Out Boy audiences skew toward teenage girls, and dudes who like mosh pits and teenage girls -- but Wentz shrugs off the idea that whatever bias remains will survive another generation. “The actual acceptance of gay marriage is inevitable,” he says. “It’s just like how the next generation of kids are going to all have tattoos.”
Before Wentz, 29, covered his skin with an inked collar of thorns and portraits from Tim Burton cartoons, he was just the oldest of three children growing up in the wealthy northern suburbs of Chicago. He says his liberal parents never shoved any particular politics down his throat, “except, like, Kenyan food.” A star soccer player in high school but also an intensely unhappy and angry kid, he did time in a teenage disciplinary boot camp, bounced from one punk band to another, and eventually left DePaul University a semester shy of a political science degree to play bass full-time.
His new career was Fall Out Boy, a pop-punk band that left the local hardcore scene for more melodic rock pastures, in part because the homophobic violence they witnessed at shows pissed them off. After hauling ass cross-country in a beat-up van to play tiny, shitty venues, their indie-produced album, 2003’s Take This to Your Grave, landed them a deal with Island Records. From Under the Cork Tree sold 3 million copies in the U.S., and last year’s Infinity on High topped the Billboard chart, spawning two top-10 pop singles.
Wentz doesn’t sing on stage. (He occasionally screams into the mike between spinning around in crazed circles, caroming off amps like the stage is a skate park.) But it’s his lyrics, mid-show demands of their faithful audience, and thousands of interviews as the band’s front man that have shaped Fall Out Boy’s image. Even in radio-friendly major-label land they’ve hewn close to their do-it-yourself punk roots, routinely exposing the man behind the curtain by explaining contract details or backstage drama that most bands are too intimidated by record company power to bring to light.
Wentz’s quest to cut out the middleman seems inspired as much by innate business savvy as impatience. Totally in love with a band no one else wants to sign? Start your own label. Harassed by kids at shows who want to wear the shirt you made in your parents’ basement? Start a clothing line. Sick of getting elbowed by VIPs at clubs you think suck? Open a bar with your friends.
And if people are confused about Wentz’s sexuality, he deserves at least half the credit for that too. Onstage he’ll lick a stripe up the neck of his bass or his bandmates’ guitars. He hooks his chin over singer Patrick Stump’s shoulder, mouthing his own words against Stump’s cheek. When they covered the Killers’ “Mr. Brightside” on a recent tour, he would punctuate the line “it was only a kiss” by aiming with varying success somewhere in the vicinity of Stump’s mouth. In “Sugar” he boasts of “always sleeping in and sleeping for the wrong team”; the line “He tastes like you, only sweeter” in “Thnks Fr Th Mmrs” paraphrases what’s spoken by a female character in the play and (by Julia Roberts) in the movie Closer. It loses any jealous, alpha-male edge when repeated over and over as the song’s key emotional refrain. Eventually, I point out to him, it just sounds, well, gay.
“It is pretty gay,” Wentz easily agrees, grinning as we discuss how the crowd still sings right along. “A big portion of our fan base are these white-hat jock dudes who maybe actually have some kind of homoerotic behaviors,” he says. “They’re so violent -- but they feel pretty free at Fall Out Boy shows.” So does he: “It’s all because I know I’m going to get a reaction -- but it’s all things that I believe anyway. I don’t get on stage and give a social diatribe. I am a performer and an entertainer.”
It’s a convincing performance. Even his longtime manager, Bob McLynn, says he spent at least a year wondering. “I thought maybe Pete was actually gay,” McLynn says. “I know guys who are gay who would sleep with girls. I wouldn’t have been that surprised.” Asking Wentz did nothing to clear things up: “He would try to act like he was to push my buttons.”
Then there are the interviews in which Wentz refers to himself as “half gay,” says “anything above the waist is fair game,” and boasts of making out with boys, even when corporate sponsors or fans’ parents balked or boycotted. The more uncomfortable or conservative his audience, the less likely he is to give them an easy out. Plus, few reporters ask for further clarification when confronted with an ambiguous, moody rock star, so single sentences wind up as stand-ins for self-defining declarations.
He doesn’t seem to think he has much to prove to Out, and I ask a lot of follow-up questions. Wentz answers them all, even when he’s not sure I’ll like the answers. “When I said that I make out with dudes, there was a slight sense of sexual rebellion in that,” he admits. “And I probably even made it a bigger deal than it was.” He thinks the first time he kissed a guy was when he was 16 or 17, probably on a dare at a party: “Like, ‘You make out with this dude and we’ll make out.’ ” And of later experiments, at 18 or 19, he says it was more like, “I’m going to try this thing.” And most recently? He actually apologizes before responding. “A long time ago,” he says with a slight wince. “Probably when I was 22?”
Asked to describe his sexuality in his own words, he shrugs and says, “I’ve always felt this relentless heterosexual drive.” There’s a heavy, ambivalent weight to the statement, like maybe he would have been happier without the painful series of dysfunctional relationships that fueled lyrics for three hit albums but also scores of lonely, sad blog entries posted in the middle of the night. He told National Public Radio last year that a part of him wished he were gay. “I have a bit of a consummate victim in my head,” he says now. “That’s who I identify with throughout history. When I was 10 I would draw black eyes on myself because I thought it was cool. You’re so into people who are tragic. You want to be that so badly. But you probably aren’t really the tragic genius that you think you are.”
He has no qualms talking about his attraction to men (including a big, stupid crush on John Mayer), which still puts him on a very short list of famous young male musicians and actors who haven’t been convinced that confession is in and of itself a career killer. But as he said in The Advocate in 2007, the stopping point truly does come when the action strays below the belt. “It’s really about the equipment,” he tells me, gesturing at his crotch with a grimace. (Decide for yourself: The first unfiltered hit for an image search on Wentz’s name still yields the shots he took of his equipment in hand, which leaked from his Sidekick in 2006.) “I really don’t think it’s an attractive quality. That’s what it comes down to. I don’t even like my own. Like, I really don’t like it. I don’t like anything about it.”
Maybe you’re a lesbian, I suggest, and he punches the air in triumph. “Yes!” he crows. “I’ve still got the cover!”
But even Wentz can’t make too much of a joke on this point. “Our culture bombards us with this idea that you’re not that, and if you are that, there’s something wrong with you, and then we’re going to call you that, and then it’s an insult,” he says. “There is a sense of self-empowerment or recapturing who you are by people calling you ‘fag,’ and being like, ‘Yeah, I am a fag.’ Even though you’re not. What does somebody respond? That dude has nothing to say about that again.” He stops, and this time he is at least a little worried for his own rep. “Am I going to catch flak for saying ‘fag’ in a magazine?” (Only when we put it on the cover, Pete.)
“Catching flak” is a nice way of saying that now -- especially as his relationship with singer Ashlee Simpson quickly escalated from rumor to engagement to marriage -- Wentz can’t leave the house without being trailed by paparazzi or bombarded by his fans or hers.
It hasn’t always been easy to adjust to the added level of attention. He approaches interviews with a shifting set of emotional and professional boundaries, and starts more than a few stories with a publicist’s worst nightmare: “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but...”
Even a man who never seems to consider the potential business blowback of his quick-trigger tongue worries what his in-laws think, though, and Simpson’s parents are not only her managers but religious and conservative. One seemingly believable rumor that made the tabloid rounds last winter: Her father, Joe, had told Ashlee not to bring Wentz home for the holidays after an interview in Blender discussed Wentz’s “possible bisexuality.”
“That one was such bullshit,” Wentz says, and tells me eventually he and Joe even joked about it. “He was like, ‘We should take a picture in front of the Christmas tree holding hands.’ ” Joe, an ordained Baptist minister, even officiated at their May wedding. Still, Wentz concedes, “There are definitely ramifications for what you say.”
Every joke Wentz makes about, say, running around his house in Jessica Simpson’s line of high heels gets printed verbatim -- with a humorless warning (from gossips) to Ashlee to watch out for her man’s other possible deviant tendencies. “Ambiguity makes you a lightning rod for people to hate you,” he says. “Some days I wake up and I couldn’t be bothered at all. Some days you Google yourself and you can’t eat.”
Of course, no matter how many kids Wentz has with Ashlee, he knows plenty of people think it’s all a big lie. “Yeah, ‘She’s his beard,’ ” he anticipates, rolling his eyes.
But then he gets quiet, staring out over the hotel pool, and his voice is full of empathy. “I couldn’t imagine living a double life for this long,” he says. “(A) you would just get caught so bad. And (B), I would be in a car in that swimming pool right now. How do you not just do drugs and live in South America? It would make you crazy.”
That’s if all the is-he-or-isn’t-he rumors don’t drive you nuts first. “There’s a little bit of a gay witch hunt,” he says, pointing particularly at gay bloggers such as his sometime ally Perez Hilton. “I don’t know if it’s to bust homophobia wide open or get more attention. It’s like, ‘This person’s gay, this person’s gay, this person’s gay.’ I get it -- we’re, like, all gay. Kind of. There’s a little bit of it that’s probably deserved.”
The impact, especially on young fans, is ultimately worth the circular, reductive debates. “Being ambiguously flamboyant really does help,” he says. “I’ve had so many people come up to me and be like, ‘I felt OK to come out of the closet after you said this.’ And I’m like...” He looks shocked, even overwhelmed. “When someone says that to me -- it’s not an event I’ve ever been through, so I don’t know what to compare it to. I don’t think I even understand how important that is to someone’s life.”
A dude in a band who dares to dream a little bigger than sold-out tours gets compared, on a good day, to a hip-hop impresario such as Jay-Z. Wentz would rather take his cues from the queer king of mass-marketed pop culture: Andy Warhol.
“Warhol impacted you in the ’80s whether you wanted or not,” he says, but after seeing Piero Manzoni’s Merda d’artista (literally, cans allegedly filled with “artist’s shit”) as a kid, he followed the theme to Warhol. Tributes to his hero fittingly run the gamut, from T-shirts -- one has Warhol’s name across the chest of a baseball-style jersey; another is a set of cartoon monster portraits with “Warholier than thou” as tagline -- to a new bar with an underground space modeled after Warhol’s less glamorous hangout, Max’s Kansas City.
Wentz says he most admires how Warhol gave shallow, timeless quotes without ever really answering whatever question he’d been asked. His favorite: “Being famous isn’t all that important. If I weren’t famous, I wouldn’t have been shot for being Andy Warhol.”
“It’s the most contradictory statement on the planet: that Andy Warhol didn’t want to be famous,” he says, laughing. Wentz definitely wants to be famous -- he often declares, not jokingly, that Fall Out Boy will one day be the biggest band on the planet -- but he’d rather get there with a gang of collaborators. In one video posted online, he and Gym Class Heroes’ Travis McCoy holed up in Wentz’s Los Angeles home, churning out paintings as McCoy joked he’s playing Warhol to Wentz’s Basquiat. “ ’Cause I’m black,” McCoy deadpanned.
The ideas that have worked best over the last five years have given Wentz the industry cachet to be taken seriously. His eclectic record label, Decaydance (an imprint of indie Fueled by Ramen), signed the theatrical young band Panic at the Disco, whose first album was made for $10,000 and sold 2.5 million copies worldwide. Their Beatlesque follow-up debuted at number two. On what would be the other end of the radio dial for any other A&R; guy are the hip-hop rockers Gym Class Heroes, whose “Cupid’s Chokehold” was a top-five hit last year.
Wentz’s dive-chic bar in New York City’s East Village, Angels & Kings, has spawned a spin-off in Chicago, with outposts in Las Vegas, Miami, and Los Angeles planned. And after three years as an online-only enterprise, Clandestine Industries -- a media and clothing company -- opened a flagship store in Chicago and signed a major deal to sell its apparel at Nordstrom; Clandestine has outsold expectations and proved a crossover success. “Even Nordstrom has been surprised how many dudes are going into the [juniors] section and rocking the hoodies,” says Stephen Westman, Wentz’s gay business partner.
All of these enterprises have brought together a group of artists who seem equally excited to embrace a Wentzian brand of ambiguity. When the ’80s-inspired dance-rock band Cobra Starship got heckled by kids at one show, singer Gabe Saporta yelled back, “I may be a fag, but I do the fucking around here. Come on up, dude.” Like Wentz, he’s as comfortable talking sexual politics as trash. “We use language and tags to make things fit into boxes,” he says. “Something like sexuality isn’t so easily defined.”
Asked by reporters what rumors the members of Panic at the Disco have heard about themselves, they cite the frequent speculation they’re all dating each other. “What’s the problem if Ryan [Ross] and Brendon [Urie] were actually dating, you know?” the band’s bassist, Jon Walker, told Out last year in reference to the band’s guitarist and singer, who on one tour acted out a love story on stage. Drummer Spencer Smith jumped in to say, “Because they might be.”
“They’re more gay in a totally other way,” Wentz says cryptically, with a proud parent’s smile.
Unlike the usual runaround music execs give when asked -- even hypothetically -- what’s keeping a band with out gay musicians from major crossover success, Wentz says Decaydance could easily handle the challenge. “Fourteen-year-old girls are really into just about anything that’s earnest,” he says. “I’m sure that if it was the right song, they’d be into it.”
He’s also unfazed by potential hurdles if one of the acts he’s already signed came to him wanting to go public in more defiant, unambiguous terms. “I think that I do have, maybe people on the label, but [also] definitely friends who are gay and don’t know they are,” he says. “I’ve never had someone be like, ‘Just so you know, I’m gay.’ I’ve never had that. I don’t think people really need me to care about it, because they know I don’t really care.”
Bob McLynn, whose Crush Management reps most of the Decaydance stable, doesn’t hesitate when asked how the company would react: “We’d support them 100%. If he wanted to speak out in the press, we would, and if he didn’t, we wouldn’t.” Then he shrugs. “I don’t know if anyone offhand [on the label] is out. But it’d be a lot easier in our scene than it was for Rob Halford and Judas Priest.”
Like Warhol, Wentz has already achieved one major pop culture milestone: He’s made himself impossible to avoid, and he’s all but guaranteed every move he makes turns into a headline. “People hate grand ideas,” he says, ready and waiting for the critics. “They love when they fall apart. Everyone likes to see the Titanic go down -- especially if it’s in front of [paparazzi haven] Hyde.”
Even so, Clandestine plans to expand its menswear collections in 2009 with more high-end, less dude-like apparel, though even Wentz admits, “I don’t know that men want to wear clothes inspired by someone who only inspires a legion of 14-year-old girls.” Fall Out Boy’s CD/DVD of a live show in Phoenix, called **** (Warhol made a 25-hour movie called Four Stars too), spawned the most audacious and unlikely of hits: a cover of Michael Jackson’s “Beat It.”
“Like, who says you shouldn’t do that?” he asks, of whatever “that” is on a given day. “Everyone on the Internet, of course. But all those people would do it if they could. Nobody ever gives a good reason why you shouldn’t, other than ‘People will laugh at you.’ ”
Pete Wentz doesn’t care -- today, at least -- if you laugh at him, if you call him a fag, or that other f word: a failure. So maybe it’s time for a little fuck-you of our own, at least to the idea that a guy can’t be a good queer role model unless he actually has sex with men. Wentz could be the world’s best spokesman to a generation of kids who grew up with gay-straight alliances but haven’t all made the leap to full acceptance. No matter how much older or famous he’s gotten, he hasn’t stopped speaking their language. And he certainly isn’t going to shut up anytime soon.
[Article Ends]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Cover photo and additional pictures taken for the web article by David Roemer.
I Heart My Cage, July 1st 2008
Tumblr media
"Inspired by his hero Andy Warhol's cutting quotes about our celebrity culture, Pete Wentz created this exclusive, extremely limited edition T-shirt for Out: BORN & RAISED IN CAPTIVITY EVERY MOMENT DOCUMENTED I HEART MY CAGE Now you can land one for yourself or your favorite Warhol lover. E-mail all of the following to [email protected] to qualify: 1. Pete suggested a sidebar to his Out cover story that we want you to help write: a quiz with real and fake statements about his sexuality. Send us your favorite quote Pete has supposedly said -- along with a link to where you read it. 2. Be sure to include your full name, mailing address (US only) and T-shirt size. The first 25 people to respond will win the shirt for free! Entries missing any information will be disqualified. (Out.com)"
Krochmal, S. N. (2008). This Charming Man. Out.com.
Out.com Editors. (2008) I Heart My Cage. Out.com.
528 notes · View notes
artistsfuneral · 11 months
Text
First of all, I'm sorry. Secondly, some people in the rbs said they missed the votes, should I make a taglist?
Part 7 of this
Your First Loop
Jaskier's heart feels like it's about to jump out of his chest. His eyes sting painfully. "No, absolutely not. I refuse your refusal!"
Geralt frowns at him and Jaskier wants nothing more than to slap that look off of his face, because it's not an annoyed frown or an angry one, it's not even one of those rare frowns that says "Jaskier, I'm disappointed in you." No, Geralt's frown is full of pity and Jaskier hates it with every viber of his beeing.
"I don't believe this is your decision to make."
He wants to scream. He wants to use his shaking fists to pound some sense into Geralt's chest. "I appreciate the sentiment, but this is my life we're talking about and I'm not going to live it after someone else's memories of me. Whatever you're trying to create would be built upon lies, no matter what we do, I'd never be the same person you're actually wanting to be with."
Geralt's words bring tears to his eyes. There's an incredibly tiny part in the back of his mind that maybe understands where the witcher is coming from. The rest of him is just incredibly tired of all of this.
"I'm sorry, bard," Geralt says with some honest uneasiness in his voice, "but for what it's worth, it wasn't as terrible to meet you as I initially thought." Jaskier looks at him defeated and doesn't say a thing. "Try living your own life from now on, alright? Your existence shouldn't be determined by someone else's."
Geralt leaves and Jaskier sinks to the floor. With shaking hands he draws a glyph into the sand.
✨⏳✨
Jaskier of Rivia regains his consciousness when a piece of rock hard bread connects with his temple.
He is standing in a godawful tavern in Posada, with his hands still on his lute and dried tear tracks on his cheeks. His maybe-some-day-if-he-doesn't-fuck-things-up-again husband to be is sitting in a far back corner of the room, not having spotted him yet.
Oops? Also please remember to like and reblog if you voted, because the numbers can be really disencouraging sometimes :(
And yes there's an actual +/- system behind your answers.
218 notes · View notes
lou-struck · 9 months
Text
Options, and Options, and Options…
Giyuu Tomioka x reader
Kimetsu Academy AU!
~When Giyuu is signed up to bring a treat for the Academy’s Bake sale, you help him figure out what to bring
WC: 1.7k
~This prompt was supposed to be a part of my Comfort Milestone Event, but I accidentally lost it for a few months… Oops... Thank you to everyone who sent in requests for this event!
Tumblr media
Giyuu is more than ready to head home after a long day of teaching. Recently, he feels that he hasn’t gotten to spend any time with you, his darling significant other
“Mr. Tomioka!” a friendly yet loud voice calls from down the long hallway. Giyuu stops in his tracks and turns toward its owner. The History Teacher, Kyojuro Rengoku, rushes past clusters of students and comes toward him energetically, his bright and sincere smile never leaving his face. “The school-wide bake sale is tomorrow; what was it you signed up to bring?”
Giyuu blinks at the smiling man and responds, “There’s a bake sale tomorrow?”
Rengoku’s smile never falters as he pulls out a copy of the staff sign-up sheet. His name is written down in a bright green pen under the desert column, but that is not in his handwriting.
He realizes it must be Obanai since, for some reason, the other Teacher likes to play pranks on him. But he isn’t unliked, so it is a bit confusing to him why that is the case.
“Oh.”
“Yes, so you will be bringing dessert then?” the Teacher says in his usual loud voice. It draws attention from the passing students and staff, making the poor man feel a bit pressured. He likes Mr. Rengoku, so he doesn’t want to just back out now, even if Obanai did write his name down without asking him.
“I guess so,” he says, sealing his fate.
“That sounds wonderful; I hope I get to taste what you bring tomorrow,” he says happily, patting Giyuu on the back. The friendly gesture makes him happy, but he knows that there will be a bruise from just how strong the man is.
As the hallway clears out, The dark-haired Teacher sighs deeply, he wasn’t expecting to have to make something so last minute, but now maybe the two of you could bake something for the sale together.
~
You had just put away the dishes from the drying rack when your Fiance walked through the front door. An unusually troubled expression on his calm and handsome face as his sapphires look at you hopefully.
“Hi,” he mumbles, approaching you with intention. He is itching to ask you something.
“What’s wrong?” you ask sweetly as you wrap your arms around him. 
“There’s a bakesale at work tomorrow, and someone signed me up to bring something,” he explains. “I know it’s last minute, but I was wondering if you would help me make something.” For some reason, he looks so ashamed to be telling you all this. (It’s just too cute.)
You brighten up and give him your happiest grin. “A bake sale!” you gush, never one to turn down a baking date, “What should we make?”
He gives you a rare smile, looking more than a bit relieved, “Do you really want to make something with me?”
“Absolutely, I love baking with you.” you smile. “I saved a bunch of baking videos that we can watch, “We have a bit of everything we need to bake, so we don’t need to worry about shopping for ingredients.”
The tenseness in his shoulders dissipates as he looks at you lovingly. “Thank you,” he whispers, enveloping your lips with his own in a grateful kiss. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
The sincerity tugs at your heartstrings, but you have hours of videos to watch, and the two of you could remain trapped in this sugary sweet moment for hours if you don’t do something to shatter it. “And I don’t know what I would do without Giyuu.”
At the utterance of your terrible pun, he pulls away and flicks you on the forehead. “I’m going to go and change out of these clothes, and then we can start,” he says, turning abruptly and disappearing down the hall and into your bedroom. As he does that, you open up the youtube app on your tv so you can watch all of your saved baking videos on the big screen.
You weren’t kidding when you told him you had hours of videos to go through. Baking videos are so soothing you watch a few when your mood needs a bit of sweetness and save the good ones for future projects.
Just as the playlist is cued up, Giyuu comes back into the room. He stares down at his phone, looking a bit stressed. Just as you are about to ask him why his face is so long, he shows you messages from the Teacher’s group chat.
The message from Tengen catches your eye.
Don’t forget to bring your flashiest of treats for tomorrow’s bake sale. 
Just remember that nothing you bring will be as flashy as my treats.
“Someone’s confident.” you laugh. “But it doesn’t matter what he brings because our’s will taste better,” wanna know why?”
He rolls his eyes jokingly, “Because it’s made with love?” he asks, going onto another tab.
“Nope, lots of sugar.” you chuckle, giving him a playful peck on the cheek.
“Some gym teacher I am,” he grins, glancing down at the screen again. “Oh, they sent out a list of treats people have already signed up to bring.”
“Can I see?” you ask as he holds out the list on his phone for you to read. It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the brighter screen, but when they do, your brows furrow. Everything from brownies to Dango has been taken by more prepared parents and teachers.
There may not be a rule against it, but you would like to bring something different and eye-catching to the table.
 “What should we do?” he sighs, leaning against you, his sapphire blue eyes looking up at you tiredly.
“Don’t worry, we have hours of inspiration to look through,” you chirp, hoping to ease his worries just a bit. You know that if he doesn’t bring anything, the other teachers won’t let him forget it.
“I trust you,” he says as you press play on the first of many videos on your saved playlist where a cute old grandma makes little graham cracker tarts. 
“These are easy,” you explain. “The only thing that needs to be baked in the crust, and then you can fill the shells with whatever we want.”
“It looks easy,” he hums. How long would it take us to make it?
“Only an hour or so,” you reply, “let’s look at a few more videos just to be safe.
He nods thoughtfully before leaning onto you.
“Are you tired?” you ask softly, mesmerized by the way the black trendles of his hair seem to melt in between your fingers. 
“No, I’m just resting my eyes for a second,” he mumbles, leaning further into your touch. “Let’s watch a few more videos.”
“Sounds good to me,” you hum, not noticing that the little scalp massage makes his lids even more droopy. 
The auto-play feature is a dangerous thing. You watch video after video, listening to the soft sound of kitchen ambiance music, not realizing that hours have gone by. And Giyuu is fast asleep.
‘Maybe just one more video,’ you think to yourself, not recognizing the yawn that escapes your mouth. 
Giyuu’s presence next to you makes you feel so warm, so safe, so comfortable on this couch you wouldn’t mind sitting here and going through your whole playlist.
There are just so many things to choose from, 
Just So many Options
And Options
And Optio….
~
The sun peeks through the blinds, hitting your face at just the right angle to wake you up. Sitting up from your spot on the couch, you notice that your neck feels a bit stiff.
“Shit…” The words leave your mouth as you wipe a bit of drool from your chin.
Giyuu, still asleep next to you, shifts a bit when you jolt up, his arms instinctually trying to grab ahold of you and keep you close to him.
“Giyuu,” you say, shaking him lightly. “You gotta wake up for me.”
After a few more shakes than necessary, he blinks his eyes open sleepily. “What’s wrong?”
“We fell asleep,” you say
His eyes shoot open, and he sits up even quicker than you did, dark hair flying everywhere; the blanket that was on top of him sinks to the floor, and he glances around the room. “The Bake sale is today; we didn’t make anything last night.”
“Again, we fell asleep,” you say, getting up from the couch to check the time. It’s only six o’clock, which means that you two have plenty of time to pull something together.
“Two hours may not be plenty of time, but it’ll do.”
“Do you still have that tart recipe?” he asks, pulling his hair back with a hairband. “If not, I can just grab some donuts from the convenience store and bring those.”
“Absolutely not.” you huff, crossing your arms. “We have plenty of time to make those tarts.”
He smiles softly and strides across the room, “You are so stubborn sometimes.” he says, kissing the top of your head. “I love that about you.”
He goes in for another kiss, but you stop him. “Uhuh, no more distractions until the dessert is made.”
He looks so sad, and you relent. “Okay, maybe one more.” you giggle 
~
It was a bit of a time crunch, but you made enough tarts to bring to the bake sale. You help him carry them into the school just as the other teachers are arriving.
You watch as Giyuu sets the platter on the table with pride. When it came to baking, he made sure to take on a majority of the tasks so you could get ready to go to work.
Good morning you two,” a loud and energetic voice calls. Turning around, Rengoku looks as bright-eyed and alert as ever as he greets you with a smile.
“Good Morning,” you say brightly, “It looks like the bake sale is going to be great.”
“Indeed, Those look very tasty,” Rengoku declares, poking his head over Giyuu’s shoulder and eyeing the treats with enthusiastic admiration before placing what looks like a loaf of banana bread right onto the table next to your display. “I’ll have to buy one for myself.”
“You would?” Giyuu asks softly, feeling proud that he has earned approval from such a nice colleague. 
“Certainly,” Rengoku says. “I think they will be the first treat to sell out today.”
“Indeed, they look very flashy.” Tengen declares, coming up behind you and setting his platter of suspiciously uniform-looking snack cakes down on the table's far side. If you didn’t know any better, you would think they were made by a Little woman named Debbie.
163 notes · View notes
itsthatmff · 3 months
Note
Request for metal bat/garou / flashy flash reaction after he made s/o cry with their word. Like really rude or angry that hurt s/o feeling
Oop- so a part two on the making reader cry series 🥱
Ik I took my time..was quite busy. BUT I HOPE Y’ALL HAD A NICE NEW YEARS EVE!!
When they make you cry Pt. 2
Included: Metal bat, Garou, flashy flash
Gn!reader
Requests are open!!
Tumblr media
Metal bat
I Can’t imagine this guy ever being rude to you
Like he treats his little sister like royalty so I believe he’d be no less with you
But let’s say he had a REALLY REALLY bad day
And you just happen to want to tell him about your day because you saw something really funny
“Could you just shut up for once. Seriously.”
You try asking him what’s wrong but he keeps dismissing you and it makes you mad. Mad to the point where you’re crying from frustration.
He doesn’t notice your tears at first but once he does he immediately regrets it. 
He’d look at you all worried and wouldn’t know how to stop making you cry so he stands there next to you not knowing what to do with his hands. Should he wipe your tears? Pull you into a hug? Damn zenko never taught him this stuff.
“Please don’t cry- I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry!”
Thinks he’s the biggest jerk and asshole for making you cry and won’t forgive himself.
Will explain to you that he had a bad day and apologize for lashing out on you.
Will give you the best treatment afterwards and spoil you rotten to make you feel better
Tumblr media
Garou
Getting into feisty arguments and fights with this guy was not rare in your relationship. You’d sometimes even go days without speaking.
But this time was different. You both got into a fight which escalated a LOT. Garou’s self control got out of hand and he said some things that hurt you like nothing ever did. It felt like he stabbed right into your heart.
Of course you started to cry. Was that really the way he thought about you?
He realized himself that what he said was a bit too much when massaging his temples out of frustration, “ah shit..look Y/N forget what I said.”
But that would just make you more upset. How could he simply take back something this severe?
He couldn’t stand seeing you cry in front of him. You really were one of his only weaknesses.
He’d pull you into a tight hug and wouldn’t let go even if you demanded to.
“Not letting ya go..y’know I love you right?”
You both are too stubborn to admit one of you was in the wrong but he still apologizes in his own way.
Lots of physical affection. He will make sure not to lash out on you like that again
Tumblr media
Flashy flash
While he tends to avoid unnecessary conflict especially with his lover, he simply won’t stand still if something bothers him - even if it’s you.
Sometimes you could just be a little too much for him, a little too overbearing.
And Flashy flash was one to bluntly say what was on his mind. There was no need for sugar coating.
So when he said that you were being too much on him, it came off harsher than intended.
You were immediately drawing to conclusions, thinking that he wanted to break up with you. It was only natural for tears to fall down your cheeks.
Flashy flash certainly got surprised. This was the first time he’s ever seen you in such a vulnerable state. The first time he’s seen you cry.
Without a word he’d immediately wrap his arms around you, something rather unusual for him to do even as your boyfriend.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
He’d mutter a little apology and let you cry yourself out.
Little words would be spoken to eachother but you’d both understand what the other felt. And you’d both try to better yourselves for the other.
124 notes · View notes