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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months

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Salome!

"La Belle Dame sans Mercy" ("The Beautiful Lady Without Mercy") - A ballad by John Keats

"The poem is about a fairy who condemns a knight to an unpleasant fate after she seduces him with her eyes and singing." please

This screams Knight!König x Fairy!Reader to me.

I just know König would gladly die by the hand of such an ethereal being.

"She looked at me as she did love, and made a sweet moan."

"And sure in language strange she said—'I love thee true.'"

That’s it. Thank you.

I swear this artwork kills me everytime I see it....

Ok this became the silliest fairytale ever 🩷✨️

CW: Historical AU blending with mythical/supernatural AU. König being a dreamy mess of a knight who doesn't fit in "normal" society. Reader is part of faefolk. Heavy Arthurian Romance vibes.

König returns to the castle one day. The son of a great liege lord, a warrior through and through, but some people say he should’ve been a poet: so dreamily he looks beyond the battlements at times, sighs after drinking too much wine, stares off into dark corners of the room while tending to his sword and armour as if he can see little pixies dancing there.

His siblings sometimes hit him on the back of his head, or wave a hand over his eyes when he’s about to slip into the fairy world, a forgotten plane that is not supposed to reach the castle. But the castle stones were taken from the moors and the woods, the old land not bending to the priest’s will no matter how many crosses they brought here. Fragile souls are wanton prey for the elves and the fairies who would take them to their land the moment they drop down their guard, and only prayer and fasting hold them at bay. In the fairylands, there is no toil or sorrow; the food is golden honey and wine, the dance and love everlasting, and the fae girls more beautiful than any human maid.

It sounded too good to be true, and it was: God had created men to work and women to give birth, and all the land was theirs to use and cultivate, it was not made to simply run and frolic upon. Some say that these were just old tales and that Christ would banish these creatures away, turn the land to yielding crops and tame firewood.

But some still believed.

When he was a child, the mighty son of the feared lord took porridge and almonds to the woods. “For the fairy people,” he said with bright, trusting eyes. Stole food from under the mistress’s nose, and no one ever dared to say anything about it.

But when this nonsense carried on to adulthood, people had to intervene. There was work to be done, war, harvest and building, and no matter how many coins this man paid to the visiting bards, it would never turn their stories true.

His arm was strong and his strike was true, but his head seemed to be filled with dandelion wine, even when he hadn’t been drinking. Sighed after this maiden or that, wished to travel to foreign lands, courted every nobleman’s daughter who visited the castle, but no one ever took him seriously.

This man had to watch how lady after lady chose some other valiant knight as their husband, some men whose heads were not filled with fairytales and dreams. They did flirt with him, for who could’ve resisted the temptation of making this giant a little sweaty under all that armor? Armor that demanded plate for two people, and a smith who had the talent to forge such a beastly thing.

Nevertheless, he was always left without a warm embrace, and so he was usually found outside, looking at the full moon or spending time in taverns, choosing the company of thieves and rascals over his serious kin.

And now he has returned from the woods, having been gone for months.

People thought he had finally left to fight for some other lord, posing as a simple footsoldier, a disguise that would relieve him of his tedious duties as a knight. Or to court some “lovely peasant girl” he always talked about – such talks were usually crushed by his father, demanding him to be sensible for once in his life.

But he doesn’t prattle about peasant girls now, nor does he ramble about screaming ships at the bottom of the sea. He doesn’t hold a speech about forgotten stone circles in the forest, the ones that already grow moss. No, he has finally lost it completely.

His eyes are wild, as is his hair; his armour is nowhere to be seen, and his sword is without its sheath. He doesn’t talk about what he saw in that forest to anyone, nor is he willing to tell where he has even been these past few moons.

He seems very shaken when he’s told they were worried he wouldn’t make it to the May Day feast, and asks for how long he was gone, drives a hand through dishevelled hair when he hears that he was away for three full months.

“Three months…” he mutters to himself, then leaves to his room, the huge sword dragging against the stone floor as he goes. He has always, always made sure it wouldn’t dull, but now he’s treating it like it’s become a part of him, confused and lost.

He doesn’t eat, hardly speaks after that.

The food tastes like ash, he says, and the ale tastes like bile. But the following evening, when his mother orders someone to pour her poor son some more wine, he looks up helplessly like a child.

“I have to go back,” he says.

A clamour arises, huffed exclaims of “What on earth is he on about” and “Sir, you only just got back!” His father rises from his chair and orders him to stop this nonsense at once. But this time, there is no embarrassed sweep of hand through hair, no red colour that rises on this peculiar knight’s cheeks. His lips only make a thin line before he rises as well and leaves the hall with a weight on his shoulders and dark determination in his stare.

At the stables, a stout Moorland pony and poor stable boy get to witness the drunken bawls of a forlorn knight. The wine sack almost slips from his hands to the dirt as he slumps against the timber of the stall, distorted face coming to rest against a wide, shaky palm.

Luckily, a friend of his knows where to look, and the stable boy sneaks into the shadows, slightly scared of the sorrow of such a big, intimidating man.

But even the companion who always listened to every enthusiastic story since they were kids and ran across the moors, throwing little rocks at his father’s soldiers and laughing when their helmets made a funny clinky sound, can not understand the drunken babble that comes out of König’s mouth this time.

He starts from the middle, which is highly unusual, and talks in strings of sentences that don’t make sense. “She was real, I just know it,” he repeats, over and over again in the middle of confessions about how beautiful she was, how her hair was like the softest spun yarn, her body incredible, naked and wild when she came to him. That her laugh was like the chime of little bells or the sound of the loveliest harp, a song on its own when she walked to him.

She was fascinated with his sword, especially the pommel and the handle interested her, and the curve in the middle of the blade she brushed with her fingers as if it was an entire vale.

He had never seen a woman touch his sword like that… They were never interested in such things, but she was, and she asked him so many questions.

Had he ever felled a tree?

Did he like squirrels?

Were his thighs as hairy as his chest?

She took him down the river, or he followed her; he can’t remember. Her step was so light it didn’t make a sound, and the moss seemed to turn brighter every time her little foot stepped on it. Her hands were tiny too when she wrapped them around his neck, pressed her body against his, and kissed him until there was nothing left of him: no helmet, no sword, nothing but sun and her, her hands and her lips.

Her mouth was still on his when she whispered she didn’t like his armour because it was so hard and rigid and cold, oh, she wondered if there was a man inside there at all.

So of course he showed her.

She giggled at the sight of him, especially his thighs, knelt down on the moss to see how hairy they were.

And would you believe the way she touched him then? It makes him heady even now…

Yes, he took her. But not the way a man takes a woman. She came to straddle him and laughed again, and the things they did together… He can’t even speak about them, but he knows the sun always shined when they rolled on the grass. Her giggles and moans surrounded him, her soft little thighs were stronger than they looked, her breasts so round and soft, so perfect he swore he had gone to heaven.

He bathed in her, with her, all day long. And the nights… You wouldn’t believe the nights: there was song and dance and more giggling women, and also a man dressed all in leaves, so big and thick he first thought he was a tree. An old king, she said, nothing he should worry about. And the wine tasted like summer and honey and gold; it was red, perhaps, but also like sea amber and sun…

She fed him flowers and laughed, caressed his face and said he’s the biggest and hairiest human she had ever seen. She let him lick honey from her fingertips and caressed him with heather and ivy, opened her mouth before feeding him a soft, sweet piece of cake, showing him how he needed to open his mouth as well if he wanted it on his tongue.

She kissed the crumbs from his lips and trailed a finger down his chest, all the way down, until…

Oh, he can’t talk about it.

It was better than he ever even imagined: better than the stories they tell in the taverns. It was like his wedding night, over and over again, it was like he was Lancelot, and she was his Guinevere.

No, no, she was not an enchantress, although everything about her was enchanting... All the stories came alive with her, even the moon was bigger than anywhere he’d ever seen, the deers ran past them while they made love, and the birds sang even at night.

He told her he loved her, but she didn’t know what it meant. When he explained it to her, she looked at him gently, so gently…

He cried from joy then, but she never mocked him. She only said it’s a sign that he’s hers. That he will never forget her. She said he’ll always find her, even when he’s old: she will make him young again. He’s welcome here if he wants: she has so many places to show him.

He thanked all the saints for having found her, Saint George and Saint Mary first, but stopped when her little brows furrowed with sorrow. Her eyes, filled with starlight and love, turned so sad that his heart couldn’t bear it, not for one beat.

The sea is far wilder here: he should come and see the ocean as it was at the dawn of time. The ivy is so strong you can use it to climb the trees and see the whole world from atop the tree, the whole land, covered in forest, such as it was before humans came. There’s no smoke or fire or war: just green everywhere, wild rippling streams and honey bees and berries and fish for everyone who ever feels hungry... They can make love day and night, and she’ll teach him all the songs of old. Humans only remember bits and pieces, but she knows how things really happened, she can tell him everything about heroes, kings and queens.

She said she wanted to sleep, and so he took her from the feast and laid her on the grass… She might’ve sung to him, he can’t remember, but it was like an angel’s caress all over him, somber and sweet before the dreams took him, a dream within a dream.

He slept for ages, it seemed, saw so many dreams, each more beautiful than the last until he woke up and saw that the forest had turned grey.

There was no maiden in his lap, no dance and song in the distance, no scent of flowers and dreams and springs to be found. The sun was up in the sky, but it didn’t paint all the colours with gold or fill the streams with light. The forest was half dead to him, just old, thick trees around him, a green-grey forest floor and a shaggy squirrel who chirped and squeaked at him as if it was his fault that the fae folk were gone.

He searched for her, called for her, but she didn’t answer, and how could she have? He didn’t even know her name. He only knew how lovely she felt, how soft her hair was when it fell to cover him like a veil, how adorable her sighs and tiny little gasps were when he filled her, over and over again.

His armour was nowhere to be found, and his sword was somewhere downstream, half covered with leaves and dirt, rusty and beaten by the wind. It was early spring when he came here; the land was still barren and grey, but now, everything was green. Still, it was not the green he wanted. It was not the green that filled his vision entirely, bright, blooming green that pulsed with lush joy. It was just… earth and grass and dirt.

So you see, he has to go back. He has to find her, whatever it takes. She promised he could always come back… She promised…

He cries once more, head bowed and mighty shoulders trembling from the force of his sorrow, and it is no use to tell him that the fae folk are evil. That they’re from the Devil and only want to make good, decent men like them forget. Forget their duty, their laws, their Christ.

It’s no use to tell him that it is not natural, the place he has seen. No doubt he has been somewhere, but it cannot be anything good… No man can survive on flowers and spring water for three months; they cannot frolic with the faeries for days on end without losing their mind and soul.

And König is already lost; he was lost since he was a child, rambling about how he received flowers, sticks and stones as tokens of the faefolk’s gratitude because he brought them food.

He tries to tell the boy who never grew up, the mightiest man in this kingdom, the dreamiest knight there ever was, that he needs to return to the real world. No fae woman would have him as a husband, they are only after his soul. But surely some human lady would take him into her bed, think about it, for God’s sake, please... He has duties here, people who love him, his father would make him a lord if he only put himself together. What kind of knight would abandon his sword, helmet and armour for the sake of an elf who despises the saints...?

But in the morn, König is gone.

His rusty sword is on the floor, the wooden cross taken off the wall. There lies a honeycomb and a flower on his window, a blossom so sweet it cannot be plucked from any field around here. Too exotic and bright, especially when placed atop the rough, grey stones, it looks like it could never wither from how beautifully it blooms.

The peasants now tell a tale of a man that haunts the woods: a huge giant dressed all in green, donning a leaf cloak of some sort and a beard that grows ivy. But they say he is not evil: he only shows himself to hunters who are about to fall a deer, or children who remember the land with little gifts.

Old men say they saw a green man when they were kids and brought bread and milk to the faeries, they swear to this day they saw a man who greeted them with a smile. And when they looked again, there was nothing but a tree where this giant stook, a young oak, sighing with the wind...

#könig x reader #könig x you #mythology au #arthurian au #historical au

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chanandlersstuff · 1 year

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Bubble and Moose.

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x Reader.

Summary: The timeline of how Hayden gradually fell in love with her until he was madly in love, to the point of no returning.

Word count: 8.124

Warnings: Not much actually, age-gap and a slow burn. If you squint, there's a "steamy" part.

Author’s note: Hello again, thanks for the paitence. My life has been a little ecthic lately and I'm sorry this took this long. There's still a second part to this part and a final part. With that being said, hope you like it and have a nice day.

gif credit @hayden-christensen

← Previous part // Next Part →

May 2020, definitely not a coworker's relationship.

After their birthday gifts were exchanged an invisible barrier seemed to be taken down, they started to talk more frequently, it didn’t matter who called who, the other answered right away.

In the beginning, it started with her brainstorming with him about Anakin’s journey to Darth Vader because according to her, who better to tell me what seemed right than the guy you portrayed him?, but he certainly didn’t mind if he got to listen to her rambling sweet voice asking and answering herself in seconds. In the process, they leant a little in their favourite episodes of The Clone Wars Series and it was funny seeing two grown-ups discussing over Facetime a child series but they had fun and spent days.

At some point, the brainstorming stepped into the background and movies, plays, books, series, and all kinds of things started to be recommended. His favourite moments of those facetimes were when she got passionate about what she would have done in the movies they saw, when she did all that technical talk and her face lit up, started gesticulating more and talked quickly, sometimes too quickly for his fascinated-by-her brain to comprehend. Fascinated in professional terms, not at all in the sentimental.

If someone had been looking at him while he looked at her, they could have witnessed the soft smile on his lips, how slowly he blinked and how attentive he listened to every word that left her mouth as if she was telling him the answer to cure world hunger.

But it was just the two of them talking for hours by a phone screen, while in reality, they were dying to be next to the other on the sofa talking face to face, close enough to touch but without really doing it for fear of being too much.

It was a normal day, which meant that their breakfast routine remained but with the little twist of being in quarantine. Her phone was resting on something and he, from his sofa with the cup she gifted him in hand, had a clear view of her moving around her kitchen making coffee and pancakes. It was intimate, so intimate that it overwhelmed him a little but at the same time made him happy.

“How’s Canada?” She was mixing her ingredients.

It took him a few seconds to answer, too distracted by the flour in her cheek and the need to pass the screen to wipe it himself. “I wouldn’t know,” He took a sip of his tea “I'm not there.”

She looked at him frowning, and the mixing stopped. “What? I thought you were quarantined in your house.” He shook his head. “If I didn’t know you, I would think that you were one of those people acting as if all this mess is a sick joke.”

He laughed at her irritated face. How can I take that face seriously when it’s too damn cute and, on top of it, has flour on it? “I would never, you know that.”

“I know, that’s why I said If I didn’t know you.” Add ‘duh’ to the phrase and she was calling him dumb. “Are you paying attention to me, Starboy?” She asked with her hand on her waist, like a mom when she was mad at something.

Yes, I can only focus on you when you are present and even when you are not, you are the only thing I can think about. “Yes, Little Miss, so drop that tone.” He was about to take a sip of tea but smiled, and giggled when he saw her rolling his eyes at him. “Don’t do that either.” And just to infuriate him, she rolled them more exaggeratedly. It’s too early in the morning to go to that place, Hayden, so don’t do it. Plus you would not be able to come back. Keep it professional. Quickly, he changed the subject. “I'm here in LA.”

The bowl almost fell from her hands and her mouth was opened in surprise. “You’ve been here this whole time?”

He nodded. “Yeah, Bri and her mom live here so I’m staying here to be with her and not see her over a screen. It’s tedious.” It’s tedious seeing you over a screen too, but it would be more tedious to not see you at all.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” She nodded while pouring the mix into the pan. “But that’s sweet of you. You are a great dad, Hayden.” It came to his notice that she said his name only in important/serious matters and when she wanted him to know she was telling the truth.

And oh how he loved it when his name rolled out her lips, how he would like to hear it in the most unprofessional, not pg-13, scenarios and tones. Drop it, Hayden.

Mid May 2020, clearing doubts and new beginnings.

He was alone in his house, Briar was with her mom and although he tried to read, watch a series and even designed something for his patio, nothing could take his mind out of her. She plagued his mind more frequently at that point and the last time they Facetimed was a couple of days ago.

Fuck it. He was calling her. Her contact name was ‘Little Miss’ staring back at him, no picture. It rang for a few and when he was about to hang up her face came up.

She was looking at the side, her profile in clear view. Airpods, messy hair falling into her face, eyebrows frowned, mouth a little agape and his eyes got lost in how she licked her lips before talking. What would they taste like? Was she talking to him? Was she talking with someone else? Was he interrupting? Was she with someone else?

“Hey.” Her tone was cheerful. “How are you?”

“Good, good.” He nodded, still with his eyes locked on her lips. “You?” She was looking at something away from her phone, making funny faces. “I called at a bad time? I can call you later.”

This time she looked at him with a tiny smile on her lips. “Not that your calls bother me at any time,” he smiled at her words. “but can I call you in twenty?”

With the smile you are giving me, how can I ever deny you? “Yeah, of course. Take your time.” He nodded with a smile on his lips

“Thank you, I’ll call you right back.” She blew him a kiss and hung up before he could even react.

Was that a kiss or I’m hallucinating? Her lips looked more beautiful than normal or it was just that I hadn’t seen her in person for such a long time? He went to the kitchen to get something to drink and watch the sky to clear his mind because all that he thought about were those lips.

Time seemed to fly while he admired the sky, from the outside, but in reality, he was comparing the feeling of her lips to the sensation of touching clouds. Both foreign to and, yet, Hayden could bet all the money in his bank account that they were soft, heavenly-like, addictive and like nothing he had ever experienced in all his years of living. Not very professional of you, Hayden, thinking about your coworker’s lips.

The sound of his phone ringing brought him back to the real world and with a smile he answered. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Her hair was still messy but with no frown. He tried to not look at her lips to be able to focus on her. “Sorry about earlier.”

An apologetic smile appeared on her lips but he shook his head. “Not at all, you were occupied?”

“Yeah,” she lifted her shoulders in a nonchalant gesture, “the kids arrived like two seconds before you called so they were all over the place.” While she was moving around the place, he caught a few glimpses here and there about her house.

“Kids?” He had one eyebrow raised and his head tilted to the side.

“Yeah.” A smile appeared on her lips. “Not mine but something like that.” Okay, that confused him as hell and she seemed to notice it. “My niece and nephew.”

He nodded remembering. “I’m sorry, I assume you had kids and-

He was quick to apologise but it was her turn to shake her head. Laughing. “It’s okay, Hayden.” Hearing his name coming from her lips made him smile widely. “I talk about them as if they were mine, so the confusion is expected.”

He looked unsure but she smiled at him. “So they stay with you?” She was looking up from the screen from time to time.

“Yeah, my sister and brother-in-law are doctors,” he listened attentively to her words, cheering for her trust in him “So, the kids stay with me to be safe.” and nodded. “Besides I’m the fun cool single aunt with a big house that lets them get a little wild from time to time.” She laughed at her own words.

And he did too, tilting his head back. His Adam's apple was bobbing up and down in full display for her to see. When he looked back at her, he caught her just in time licking her lips and her eyes a little lost. What’s she looking at? Lost something? Her cheeks have always been that red or has it happened now? The thoughts started clouding him so he cleared his throat and her eyes travelled back to his. “It’s nice that you are taking care of them.”

“Huh?” He smirked, she giggled and he did too. The laughter of one made the other laugh harder as if they were little kids again. Five minutes passed before it died down and it wasn’t even that funny. “Oh God.” She cleared a tear from the corner of her eyes, while he chuckled. “What did you say?”

He snorted, shaking his head. “That is nice what you are doing.”

She smiled at his words. “They are the closest I have to my own kids, it’s not like I’m adopting orphans or donating piles of money to the health of my country.” In the last part, she gave him a knowing look and before he could say something she kept talking. “It’s the least I can do while their parents are saving people and risking their lives.” He nodded understandingly.

They kept talking for a little while until she had to hang up, but this time there was no kiss blown in his direction. Which made him a little sad, if he was honest. Why would you? You two are nothing except coworkers.

A few weeks passed when they didn’t Facetime as much as before because he didn’t want to interrupt her time with the kids, he knew how handful one kid was, let alone two. Plus he was trying to keep his emotions at bay, they were starting to get wild and he couldn't let that happen. But, they texted frequently, small things here and there to stay in touch, although he preferred a thousand times more seeing her face. A little contradictory, don’t you think Hayden?

He and Briar were cooking together, more like the little girl was sitting on the island while he did all the work when Facetime came in. "How hard can it be to build a kid's playground?" Her desperate voice reached his ears, making him laugh.

"Hello to you too." He teased her.

"Hi." It came all muffled by the groan that left her lips.

His eyes found Briar's, who was giggling, and he did it too. "Now, tell me. What are you building?"

She exhaled loudly while he kept making lunch. "I bought a small kind of playground or something like that." He nodded, a little confused. "Thinking it couldn't be that hard to put together and surprise! IT IS." The pair, father and daughter, laughed again. She lifted her head from the papers in her hands for the first time and looked at him with a frown on her forehead. "Am I interrupting something?"

He shook his head and Briar, with the curious nature of a five-year-old, moved her head to see his phone. "Hello."

"Oh hi!" She looked surprised but with a smile on her face.

"I'm Briar Rose, and you?" The little girl introduced herself and she did too, still with a smile on her lips and a cheerful tone. "Where are you friends with my daddy?" She asked innocently. "Briar Rose!" Hayden said in his dad's tone.

But she laughed, a genuine laugh. Not like the ones he heard her give when she was nervous or uncomfortable, so he relaxed. "From work, we are working together." See?! COWORKERS! She said it herself.

The little girl nodded. "Bri, you helped me choose a present for her a few months ago, remember?" She seemed to think about it and then nodded.

"Oh, you helped him?" Briar nodded eagerly and she smiled. "I loved the flowers, they were so pretty. Thank you." She bowed her head and the little girl blushed a little.

He couldn't see her face directly, because Bri's head was in the way while she got comfortable in front of the phone, making him smile. "Really?"

"Yeah." Just by her tone, he could see her, in his brain, smiling. "I put them on a desk in the centre of my office so everyone could see them." Those little blue eyes opened wide in surprise "Every person that entered my office that day, loved them. You picked right." and a big happy smile appeared on her face.

Hayden saw how closely Briar was looking at her, how she tilted her head to the side from time to time while they talked. "Why are you building a playground?" He looked at them from the corner of his eyes.

"My niece and nephew, Brianna and Daniel, are 6 and staying still is not their thing." He laughed, picturing himself as a little boy and understood what she was saying. "The other day they told me they missed the park."

"I missed it too, but Daddy has a swing on the patio for me," Briar told her and she opened her eyes in surprise, following along. "So I don't miss it that much."

"Well, I had a similar thinking to your Daddy's" What? Come again? "and since I cannot watch them being sad, I bought a small playground for our patio." The little girl nodded.

"In a cool, fun aunt way." He added.

"Exactly." She laughed and the little girl did it too. "Besides, I don't want Daniel jumping out the balcony ‘cause he's bored out of his mind.” He raised his eyebrows. “I swear to you, that kid is wild.”

They laughed, the three of them. "So you bought a playground for them?" Hayden asked in disbelief.

"Kind of?" She sounded unsure and Briar laughed.

He looked at the two of them with a smile on his lips. "Do you even have the tools to set it up?"

They looked at each other and she had that irritated face that he found so cute, so endearing. A big smile appeared on his lips, unwittingly, naturally. "I'm not silly, I bought everything at once."

"Of course you did." He said under his breath found it funny. You and your like for order.

She nodded, putting a wild strand of hair behind her ear. "In my defence," she held her finger up and he raised an eyebrow, ready to hear her excuse "It seemed like a great idea." She sounded so sure, so convinced.

"How?!" He was frowning, his deep tone a little higher than normal.

She got comfortable behind the screen and they did too, their lunch almost ready. "I ordered it the next day they told me that, and with the protocols and everything, it arrived a day after they left, which is today." They nodded. "I thought of building it myself so when they came back, in like a week give or take, they would be surprised."

"That's nice," Briar said.

"I know. Thank you, Briar." She winked at the little girl and she tried to mimic but failed, making the two adults laugh. "But I didn't think it was that hard to build it!”

The little girl giggled, making her father, and her, laugh. “It didn't come with instructions?”

“Yes.” She shook the papers in her hand for him to see. “and I saw a few YouTube tutorials but it's not as easy as it seems.” They laughed again. “So I was this close” she put her pointer finger and thumb a little close to measuring “to a mental breakdown when a lightbulb went on in my head so I said ‘Hey, I have a friend” Friend?! That’s an improvement from coworkers. “who's really into design and architecture and has a beautiful daughter” she winked at Briar, making her giggle “so he would know how to help me’ and that’s how we are here.” She finished with a big smile on her lips and batted her eyelashes as if that was necessary for him to help her.

The little girl looked at him with a smile, fully engrossed with all that was happening. “What do you say, Bri, should we help her?” He looked around, thinking, tapping his chin with his finger, acting as if he was weighing his options, but his beloved daughter tugged his shirt, impatient. “Yeah, daddy, help her.” Hayden looked at her, at that smile on her lips, then at Briar who was mimicking the face she had moments ago. “Okay, we will help her.”

They both celebrated, even high-five through the screen, and he couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his lips, the warm feeling that ran through his body and the hope. Hope? Hope of what? Keep it professional Hayden.

After she sent them photos of the instructions, at his request, they had lunch, over Facetime, while he looked at everything from his tablet and they, Briar Rose and she, chatted. Scratch that, Bri did all the talking while she listened closely.

She told her about her classes, about his dad’s farm and all the animals, asked about her niece and nephew, and all kinds of topics they did. All that, while Hayden half listened to them, looked at them interact with a smile on his lips, and half daydreamed, but never once reading at the papers in his tablet, always acting as if he was.

Stop it, Hayden, you are working together. You already went down that road and the only good thing that came out of it’s Briar, so don’t even think about it.

"Isn't that right, daddy?" Briar was looking at him but he frowned, a little lost. “She looks like Bubble.”

“As in The Powerpuff Girls?” But the little girl shook his head.

The brunette was thinking of any recent character his daughter saw that could resemble her. She was wearing a green flannel shirt, too big for her, that matched her skin tone, her hair held up messily, making it seem like she had a pixie cut and lighter, by the light that was hitting on it, and glasses, he noticed she was wearing them more frequently. I like how they look at you. Really? Not very professional of you.

“Bubble like the fairies movies, Daddy. The one we watched the other day, remember?” He was really trying to remember what movie she was talking about because they watched too many.

But she seemed to realise what she was talking about. “Tinkerbell?” Briar nodded eagerly.

“The one with big glasses, wearing green, that's always building something and it's funny." She explained. "Bubble!"

If he remembered correctly it was a male fairy and his name wasn't Bubble. "Oh, the one that was in love with Tinkerbell?" Briar nodded again. "Bobble.”

"Bubble." The little girl corrected, but even though it was wrong, she nodded.

Haydey found it extremely cute, and funny, the resemblance his daughter found in her. A little magical, mythical, figure a little bit clumsy, extremely passionate about his work and art. Briar Rose wasn't that far from reality, they were similar but at the same time, she was like no one he ever knew.

"Bubble." He tasted it on his tongue and it suited her just fine.

She laughed, shaking her head "I'll take it" and arranged her glasses. "But, if I'm Bubble, you, my friend" Again with it. she pointed at him "Are going to be Moose." A smug smile appeared on her lips, his little girl laughed and he did too, amazed at the name.

"Moose?" He asked in disbelief.

She nodded. "You are Canadian and tall as a door. It suits you just fine."

"Fair enough, Bubble." She smiled, proud, with her chin held high. "And me?" Briar asked, not wanting to be left out, looking at both of them.

"Can I?" She mouthed, her eyes connected with his, asking for permission, and he nodded. "What you say about 'Princess'?”

Hayden knew she would love it. "Yes! I love it!" The little girl danced in her seat. They looked at each other, she was frowning but he gave her a smile, to reassure her it was alright and she nodded.

June 2020, planning dates and weird texts.

Saying their relationship was becoming something more was an understatement and that put him in a tough spot. They were more than coworkers, that much was for sure. They were friends? Probably on her part, but Hyaden had feelings he felt he should not have. Feelings? I know nothing about that. That’s very unprofessional. Feelings he would not speak about. Feelings he would deny and bury deep inside him because it was unprofessional. So, the only rational reaction he came up with was to distance himself a little, but not too much. They still talked over text and Facetime, but the last ones were from time to time, weeks in between them, not as often as they used to.

He and Briar were watching some movie, comfortably lying on the sofa, his little girl with her feet on his lap really engrossed in the movie ‘Anastasia’. A recommendation the little girl got as soon as ‘Bubble, what movie should we watch now?’ left her lips. When she found out that her daddy’s friend made movies, she was over the moon, asking for movie recommendations left and right, almost like Hayden did on one of their facetime at the beginning.

This was one of those times when they were texting about God knows what. Sometimes they had separate conversations while texting each other like they were having their own monologues on the same chat.

I've never understood why people in movies used to send boxes with people inside as a gift

He frowned at the text, tilting his head to the side.

Huh?

WHAT’S IN THE BOX?! Type or what?

The three dots appeared and seconds later the response came.

Not that gore

But you know, like when someone jumps out of a cake

Like a surprise

His frown deepened.

What movie are you watching?

Singing in the rain

A smile appeared on his lips.

You have something for musicals, don’t you?

Shut up, Moose

He couldn't contain his laugh and Briar shushed him. “I’m watching the movie, daddy.” The little girl complained.

“Sorry, sweetie.” He smiled at her, not that she paid attention to him, and looked back to his phone.

You definitely have something with them, because I’m watching Anastasia and that’s on you

It’s a great movie, Bri is going to love it

He nodded, watching how invested his little girl was with the movie.

She already does

And you are not even trying to deny the musical part

They are my guilty pleasure, shut up

He chuckled, tilting his head back. Who would have thought?

So……

People jumping out of boxes/cakes are not your thing I gather

Of course not, like that's scary as hell.

He laughed, again.

Don't laugh

A frown emerged on his face, a little surprised.

How did you know I was laughing?

‘Cause I know you

Those words made him smile, proud of such thing.

And people laugh when I tell them about my unusual fear

For some reason, it didn’t seem right to him that someone laughs at her fears, no matter how small or foolish they seemed.

I promise not to laugh

Tell me about it

It was true, he wanted to know about it. About her.

Why would someone do something like that?

Why would someone want the birthday person to have a heart attack for the scare?

Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?

No, it’s common sense

Sure, Bubble, whatever let you sleep at night

Certainly not that idea

Call me when that happens, we will take care of it together

The together part put a smile on his lips. In a friendly context, nothing more.

I will

To put your mind at ease, I promise to never send you those kind of things

Thank u

He could see her with a smile on her lips, that kind, sweet, smile so characteristic of her.

A couple of days later they were Facetiming, he called because he missed her voice but he was trying to mentally keep his distance. It was like a battle was being held inside him. I miss your voice, but saying it out loud may be too much. It may change everything and I don’t want that. I’m not prepared for that.

“Are you okay?” Her voice brought him back to reality.

The brunette nodded “Yeah, why?” with a frown on his forehead.

She shrugged, pursing her lips. “I don’t know, I-” She seemed to think about her next words and he raised his eyebrows, curious about them. “It’s gonna sound lame, but I feel like we don’t talk as much as we did before.”

The sadness Hayden saw in her eyes, even through his screen, made him heartache, but he knew she was right. That wasn’t what I wanted. No, don’t look at me like that. Please. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He was quick to apologise but she shook her head. “I have lots of things in my mind.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. It wasn’t at all my intention.” His eyes could see her manicured hand on her chest and a little frown on her eyebrows. “I meant it as, I know this whole staying-at-home thing is taking a toll on people and their mental health, so if you want to talk about it, or don’t, just know I’m here, Hayden.” The sincerity in her tone took him aback, but it shouldn’t have.

One time, he made a fleeting comment about his mental health after finishing Star Wars in 2005, trying to make his advice more clear for her. Hayden didn’t think that she would remember it, but it seemed he was mistaken. She remembered everything that came out of his mouth. The donations to Canada, his love for architecture, an embarrassing story about his childhood, his birthday, every little detail. So why wouldn’t she remember that little comment?

The sudden trainwreck of emotions inside him almost made him choke. “Thank you, Bubble.” There wasn’t a need for words, his eyes told her everything with how shiny they were and the smile on his lips was so soft, so sweet.

A sincere smile appeared on her lips, but she shrugged again. Taking a little off the emotion and seriousness of the moment before it became too much. “You would do the same for me.”

“Of course.” He said not missing a beat.

“So you don’t need to thank me.” She winked at him and that simple gesture made him feel lighter.

They stayed like that, talking for hours, making up for the lost time, enjoying seeing the other faces and hearing their voices. He moved from his studio to the kitchen, ready to start dinner for one, while she was still seated in her patio with her book on the same page she was when he called.

As she watched him move around his large kitchen, she couldn't help but become entranced by his movements. The allure of his every gesture left her feeling a little lost in the moment. “What are you cooking?”

He scratched the tip of his nose with the back of his hand. “Pizza.” She giggled when she saw that the tip of his nose was full of flour. “What are you laughing at?”

“You look cute with your nose full of flour.” She said in between laughs.

He rolled his eyes but blushed at the compliment. "Well I can't clean it right now so, focus on something else other than my handsome face." He teased her.

"It's going to be a very hard task focusing on something else." She followed his lead. "Your beauty is very distracting." Was she teasing me back? Or was she telling the truth?

"Haha, very funny, Bubble." He kept his face down, looking at what he was doing for her to not notice the blush that started creeping to his cheeks.

"I'm hilarious, I know." She moved her hair back, with a smug face. And he laughed but rolled his eyes. "Back to the pizza."

"Yeah, back to the pizza."

"You pick a few skills from Little Italy, I see." She got closer to the screen to watch what he was doing.

"First of all," he raised a finger full of flour "I was a very good pizza aficionado before the movie-"

"Show-off" She faked a cough.

He rolled his eyes again, trying not to laugh. "But, yes. I picked a few things up." He mixed the sauce.

"I wouldn't know, I have never tasted it." She had a tiny smile on her lips and her eyes had a particular shine. Or maybe it's the light from my house playing tricks with me.

"Maybe when all this pandemic is over, I can cook for you." He said looking at her, what he was doing was long forgotten, his attention solemnly on her.

The smile on her lips was breathtaking mixed with the warm light of the sun on her patio made the image burn in his brain. "I will like that very much."

His heart was beating furiously inside his chest. "It's a date then? I'm having a heart attack, surely. There's no other explanation.

She nodded, with a tiny blush on her cheeks. "It's a date." A bright smile, teeth and all.

Well, so much for keeping it professional Hayden.

July 2020, seeing you shine.

The night was darker than normal and more humid than usual in July. Not a sound could be heard in his house, besides the one caused by the weather. The hot summer weather was starting to bother him a little so the storm that was rising outside made him happy.

Miss Bubble

You up?

Confused as hell, he looked at the hour. What was she doing up at three in the morning? Was she alright? Something happened to her? Was she in danger? All the possible bad scenarios were occurring in his head, so he called her.

Pick up, Bubble, pick up. Not long passed before she answered him.

“Are you alright?” Those were the first words that left his mouth when her face came into view.

She nodded “Yeah, you?” confused.

The brunette frowned. “Yeah. Something happened?”

“No. Why?”

“Cause you texted me at three in the morning and I thought that something had happened to you, so I got scared.” He explained.

She closed her eyes and scrunched her nose. “Sorry about that, I truly didn’t mean to.” An apologetic smile appeared on her lips. “I appreciate you worrying about me, it’s really sweet.”

“Are you okay?” His heart was still beating furiously.

“A little guilty but 100% fine.” She gave him a tight smile. Hearing she was right relaxed him, all the muscles in his body loosened. “Did I wake you up?”

“Nono, I was already up.” He was sitting comfortably on the couch, his feet on the little table there and resting his phone on the thigh, cigarette in the other hand. “Why are you in the dark, though?” He squinted his eyes to look at her better.

The sound of her sitting comfortably could be heard. “I love thunderstorms and being in the dark makes them more beautiful.” You are beautiful, even in the dark. “What about you?”

He smiled at her “I'm enjoying the peaceful silence and the sound of the rain.” and took a drag of his cigarette.

“I can call you back some other time, at a decent hour.” She quickly said. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

She could see him shaking his head, thanks to the warm light that was illuminating his face. “No, no. It's okay.” He reassured her with a smile. “We can enjoy this together.” Again with the ‘together’. “you, your thunderstorm and me, my silence.”

A massive thunder illuminated the sky and he saw the big smile on those lips. “I would love that.” She was smiling because of me or because of the thunder?

“Great.” He smiled, getting comfortable.

Who knows how long it passed where his gaze took turns looking at her and then at the water falling against his big window. Her doe eyes were looking in the distance, her lips curving in a smile every time a thunder made everything tremble. The light it provided made her, in his eyes, illuminated, and shine. A few times their eyes connected and a tiny smile appeared on her lips.

Unknowing to him, she looked at him every time she felt his eyes move from the screen. Fascinated by how the cigarette smoke danced around him with the warm light that was reflecting on his face and making his hair look golden-like and his eyes had a particular shine. The artistic part of her wanted to be there, on her knees in front of him, in the angle she was from her phone, with her precious video camera in hand recording every second of him smoking that damn cigarette.

It dangled over his large fingers, but it never quite felt, on the way to his lips. Oh, those lips. They wrapped around the filter part and he hollowed his cheeks, making his bone structure more prominent. How would it feel to trace his face with the tip of my fingers? Maybe, just maybe, to finish off killing her, he exhaled the smoke through his nose tilting his head back. How can he make something so deadly as smoking, so hot, so alluring? Her eyes traced his neck, the veins there. Where is his weak spot? Can I find it with my lips?

Hayden felt her stare on him, how she was tilting her head from side to side the whole time he took a drag, slowly, just to tease her. When he moved his head, just a little bit to see her, he felt as if his heart stopped beating normally and started a fucking race. Her cheeks were flushed, even in the dark he could see it. Her lower lip was caged by her teeth and the need to free it made his hands itch. When he finally reached her eyes, oh those eyes, pupils dark and intense, lost in him, lost in desire.

If her eyes were dark, the blue in his was long gone too but that didn’t stop him from looking her up and down. The grip she had on the blanket around her was so tight that her knuckles were losing colour. The fine strip of her pyjama top was falling from her shoulder, leaving him free access for his eyes to trace the journey from her clavicle, to her neck to the jaw. He gulped at such a display of skin, feeling like a horny thirteen-year-old, Will I ever have the privilege to feel her skin with my lips?, like he travelled back in time and was one of those men that get horny by a glimpse of an ankle.

Their eyes finally met and it was like someone left hell and heaven gates opened. They were on Facetime but the tension, the burning sensation, around them was real. They both felt it. But at the same time, they were sure that giving in would be like touching the sky. It would be a sin I would be glad to commit.

Hayden said her name in a low and husky tone. His tone is going to be the death of me.

"Hayden," she replied, trying to keep her own voice steady, but failing miserably. Whisper my name in my ear with your soft tone. Shout it at the top of your lungs too.

That simple gesture of saying the other’s name made the tension grow stronger. Their hearts were racing, they were heavily breathing.

He leant closer, and brought her closer, more like his phone screen, to say something. What are you going to say, Hayden? That you want to cross the line so far with her so damn much it would look like a fucking dot if you look back? That you know it’s unprofessional the feelings you have for her? That those eleven years between you two are going to be the death of you?

She swallowed hard, ready for whatever he was going to say. Are you ready to admit that you have been dying to kiss him, tangling your fingers in his hair, since the first day you saw him? Are you going to tell him that only by looking at you he makes you weak on the knees and that you have to mentally restrain yourself to not giggle and twirl your hair?

There was only one thing that was running around in their minds. Not physical, because there were plenty of those in their heads. God, I wish you were here with me, I wish I had you right here in front of me so I could kiss you. Show you all the things I feel for you but that I’m too cowardly to tell.

A very loud thunder broke the bubble they were wrapped in and brought them back from the tunnel they were getting themselves into. He cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling of his house, taking a deep breath, while she arranged her hair and sat straight. “Look at the time.” What, Hayden? Are you an idiot?

“Yeah, it’s-” She cleared her throat too because her voice sounded breathless “It’s getting late.”

The brunette nodded, agreeing with her. “Yeah, yeah.” Truth be told, it was like five-thirty in the morning.

The two fools bid goodbye, saying that they would be heading to bed and that they would call some other time. But instead, they stayed sitting in their respective houses. Going over and over again what happened. How they almost gave in in the heat of the moment.

September 2020, you never cease to amaze me.

If the sweet moments were too much before, the sexual tension of that July night was something that went out of their hands.

Since that call, Hayden’s brain has been playing tricks with him almost every night. Dreaming all sorts of things with her, it was divided between the nastiest of them and the most domestic too. Railing her watching the Eiffel Tower, leaving love bites all over the visible, just for him, parts of her body and then taking a walk on the French streets hand in hand, or having coffee in the morning and cleaning the foam off the tip of her nose and then kissing it.

Dreaming of her never failed to leave him wishing for more, praying for more. After a very vivid, specific, hot dream where he wasn’t going to be able to look her in the eyes for a good couple of days, he had to put space between them. So the facetimes were a big no because the dream kept repeating in the back of his mind, every day, and looking her in the eye would make a mess of him.

But now, after nearly two months, he was more than happy to look at her beautiful face. Eager even. Why? Curiosity got the best of him and he had googled her, just to see her work and ended up watching a movie of hers. To say he was fascinated, and amazed was understandable. Hayden always knew she was incredible, but the way he ended up at the edge of his seat, wanting more of her art, was something that didn’t happen every time he watched a movie.

She answered right away, her glasses on the bright of her nose. “Hi.”

“You…you…” she looked at him, raising an eyebrow, “you are a work of art.” Coming up strong I see. The truth in his voice, in his eyes, came from his heart.

Slowly, a smile appeared on her lips “What?” and a little laugh escaped them.

“I just watched one of your movies and…and…” she looked like a deer caught in headlights “and it’s amazing.” A smile adorned his lips. “You are amazing.”

She dropped what she was doing and looked directly at him. “You really think that?”

“Of course.” Sincerity laced in his tone. “I think that since I met you, sorry if I never told you, Bubble.” The way she looked down, hiding her cute smile, made his hands itch to lift her chin to be able to see it in person.

“A little reminder from time to time, wouldn’t harm you know.” She joked, making him laugh.

“Sure, I’ll remind it to you.” He winked. “But not all the time, we wouldn’t want you to be a show-off.” It was her turn to laugh about it. Her sweet laugh was music to his ears.

Hayden turned into a fan of hers, bombarding her with questions left and right about what inspired her, why things were how they were in the movie and every little detail about it. And she happily answered it, giving him her complete attention.

The title ‘Little Miss Director’ was too small for her, actually, it didn’t fit her at all. In his eyes, and surely in the eyes of everyone who met her, she was a great director, a splendid artist worthy of awards. It didn’t matter that she was young. The brunette was eager to see her in her element, in the field guiding the team so that the vision she had for the script, which she was putting sweat and tears into making, would come true.

“Ewan’s words did not make you justice, nor to your work.”

She frowned. “What did he say?”

“Basically, that you were amazing.” She giggled, nervously, blush creeping to her cheeks. “But nothing more, I tried to pry details away but he didn’t slip, not even once.” He joked and a true laugh escaped her lips. A proud smile plastered on his face by the fact of being able to make her laugh.

She nodded. “At this point, I think he’s as proud of me as my dad.” They laughed.

“He is!” The brunette reassured her. “Crazy proud.”

“I adored him.” She confessed and he nodded, feeling the same for the Scottish.

You adore me too? “And he always said that you are a well-deserved award winner.”

She opened her eyes big, “Yes, I have a few.” and mumbled.

At that point, he was comfortably seated on his sofa, hand supporting his head and his attention fully on her. “I know.” She raised her eyebrows, surprised. “I may or may not have googled you.” He admitted hiding his face, a little ashamed. Perfect, now she would think I'm some creep stalking her. But her sweet laugh reached his ears.

“Please tell me how unflattering the pictures are?” She asked, still laughing. “I’ve never googled myself.”

He shook his head. “There’s no pictures of you.” She frowned. “Which I found odd for someone who has three Spirit Awards under her belt, one feature film nominated in Cannes and one Caméra d’Or.” He had a proud smile on his lips and she blushed but with a smile so big it closed her eyes. “Absolutely amazing.” He clapped at her and she blushed harder. “I’m crazy proud of you too.” While I’m at it, why don’t I tell her that I have a 13-year-old boy crush on her? Make myself 100% embarrassed.

Maybe it was the lighting in her house, maybe it was his imagination, but Hayden could swear she had tears in her eyes. “Thank you, Hayden.” The brunette nodded.

They talked a little more about the awards and the technical aspects of the movies she made. “One thing I still don’t understand is” she raised an eyebrow, curiously “How a face like yours isn’t plastered all over the place?”

“Is that a compliment?” Her head tilted to the side.

“Of course it is,” he said, nodding. “You are absolutely beautiful.” Subtlety is not my thing, clearly.

It was like he was trying to see how many times he could make her blush in a single conversation. Because those words made her red like a tomato, to the point she could feel how warm her cheeks were. “Thank you.” And he bowed his head again, happy to compliment her. “The photo thing is because I try to blend in as much as possible,” he frowned, “which is easy, when what all the people are most interested in is taking photos of the young models and big actresses there.”

He tried to rack his brain thinking of what young models or actresses had that she hadn't. And the answer was nothing. She was beautiful, like a breath of fresh air, fashionable and had a smile that could light up any room. But behind everything physical, she was funny, artistic and intelligent like no other. Hayden was pretty sure his words came up short if he tried to describe her.

“Besides,” her voice brought him back, “I wanted to be taken seriously at that time for future works, so if there wasn’t a picture of me it was better.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to be judged by my age, which people tend to do.” She pursed her lips. “No one would hire me to do a movie if they found out I was that young when I started. Not that the no pictures stopped them, because when they saw me in person a few backed down from the offer, but I fought tooth and nail for my art, my work.”

The scene in the first reading table came to his mind. “You still do.” She nodded. “That’s why you ran after standing your ground in the incident with the writer that time?”

She nodded. “He was rude as hell, not the first time that a male writer was rude to me, but the condescending way he said it boiled my blood.” She remembered, shaking her head. “I had to get away from that room before I lost my mind.” That was why he hadn’t found her when he looked for her. “But, back on topic, I like having a low profile”

He nodded, “Yeah that’s a feeling I can resemble.” She raised her eyebrows for a few seconds. “I like my private life.”

“I totally agree, like I will not make my life a circus for all the media to pick apart.” They were both nodding eagerly, happy to be thinking the same thing. “I mean, I'll pose if it's strictly necessary, otherwise I'll avoid it like the plague.” She said laughing.

He tilted his head to the side, frowning. “What you mean?”

She shrugged. “All the flashes and screams, being the centre of attention, the madness, I don't know, it gives me anxiety.” He knew what she was talking about. “And I like being behind the camera, I’m much more comfortable there.”

It was a little criminal to him that something as beautiful as she liked to be hidden from the lenses, away from the world to witness, but a tiny part of him, the selfish part, loved being one of the few who really knew her, or was starting to do.

At that point, the list of things Hayden noticed about her turned into a notepad. The things he kept learning about her day after day, text after text, facetime after Facetime, meant a lot to him. The trust she had in him made him feel special.

Next Part →

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#Hayden Christensen #Hayden Christensen x reader #Hayden Christensen x you #Hayden Christensen x y/n #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #director!reader

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husbandohunter · 9 months

Text

Two Shades of the Same Color

Synopsis: Protecting the law and protecting his family. The line seperating them were like two shades of the same color. Wriothesley just didn't know it yet.

Genre: Wriothesley x Reader, gender neutral pronouns, Reader and Wriothesley have a daughter

(A/n): this is my offering to the gacha gods praying for an early Wrio to come home 😔===============================

The Duke of Meropide often finds himself conflicted in the different roles he has to play.

In the daytime he carried his duty as the Warden. Having served his sentence through the years he was in prison, Wriothesley was appointed to be a suitable candidate now managing Fontaine's most notorious Fortress, guarding wanted criminals, convicts, and what justice deems guilty. Both feared and respected by them, it was quite an intresting story how he got into this rank. But he also didn't dislike his occupation. Perhaps due to this self-proclaimed 'rough around the edge' personality, he believed the prison wasn't so far disconnected from his nature.

"Wolf-ears, wolf-ears, daddy has wolf ears!" A sweet voice sang before imitating a growl sound.

Aaand there were those who really disconnected him from his 'nature'. Wriothesley sighs as he rub his forehead, clutching a stack of unsigned papers while the girl pulled the little tuffs in his hair.

Your five year old daughter came home one day, announcing that the class had been given an assignment.

Two things arise in his head. First off, why are they already giving assignments to children? Shouldn't they be learning their alphabets and make crafts or something? Second, why does it have to involve taking your kid to work?!!

You failed to stifle a laughter at the sight, the poor man silently hoping that you would do something, "Come down little one. You wouldn't want to accidentally fall over now, would you?"

The girl shook her head, avoiding your attempt to hold her and squeezed her small legs around his shoulders, "Don't stop me! Mari wants to stay up here."

"But he's going to get tired if you keep shaking like that," you suggested, placing both hands on your hips.

Mari huffs, "That's up for daddy to decide. Right, daddy?"

You quirked an eyebrow and glanced at your husband who seemed to be under a lot of pressure. What can he do? When his daughter stares at him with her toothy grin and gleaming eyes that looks just like his own?

Helpless at her whims, he pleads silently, urging for your aid once again.

"Sorry honey," you shrugged and tilted to the side, "I tried."

"Oh really?," the man doubts, "Then why are you smiling like that?"

Wriothesley wasn't sure how he got into this mess in the beginning. Actually, wait. He did. He just...didn't want to admit it.

The initial answer to Mari's request was a no brainer. Allowing his little babydoll Marigold through the walls of Meropide was something he stricly forbade until she reached thirty years old. A reasonable negotiation, he thought. Not even the gossips plastered all over the Steambird newspaper would be discussed at the dinner table. The man vowed to keep his work life and family life seperate the day she was born.

"Why don't you go find them to help you with your homework?"

"I work at the Fortress too, silly."

Well-- maybe not you since the two of you met here, but that's different. Rules are laws and laws shouldn't be broken. There's a reason why order is meant to be taken seriously in Fontaine. And of course, in his house too.

Then you proceed to say-- it's because you keep spoiling her! Which he retorts, "I'm not spoiling her, I'm just making sure she has a fun childhood, that's all."

"Uh huh, you sure do a great job at it officer, maybe a little too well," you tease, wrapping your arms around your burly husband and nuzzled against his cheek.

Fits of giggles came from above, Mari starts rocking back and forth, "Now give him a biiiiig kiss!"

"Alright alright, that's enough you two," Wriothesley caught hold of his wiggling daughter and settled her down on the floor. Seriously, he could hardly focus. Wriothesley had planned to make his routine as boring as possible so she would leave and he could go about his day. It seems the man terribly underestimated the fact Mari had a penchant of finding entertainment. Should've been obvious that he would be the center of it.

"Can we go downstairs now? I want to see where the machines are working," Mari declares and throws her hands up in excitement.

Wriothesley clears his throat, "What did I say earlier about going downstairs?"

"It's not safe for ages under thirteen and only for members who are given permission because they're criminals," Mari sheepishly repeats.

"Aaaannd?"

"You're not allowed to abuse your authority or give me special treatment because the Warden must be fair and respect the rules from the Fortress of Marinetide, treating everyone equally."

"That's my girl," he nods with a grin. Though the pronounciation can use a little tweaking. Eh, he'll let it slide.

"Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit too much? The working grounds aren't that bad, even Sigewinne takes her strolls there during her breaktime," you chime in.

"Who's Sigewinne?"

The man expresses what seems like his version of a pout. Though you can never miss the small upturn slivering the corner of his mouth, "I'm starting to get the feeling that you enjoy seeing me like this."

"Nonsense," you lean on his shoulder, "I'm just admiring how much of a loving father my daughter has."

They're coaxing me into something, "No means no."

Wriothesley glances at Mari who had still been persisting him with pleads and questions. The reason why he wanted to keep his work life and family life sperate was because prison, in general, can shape a person entirely. Whether for good or worse depends on the individual, she was far too young to be exposed at the kind of stories and complex reasonings people would have. Wriothesley knew very well that nothing is black and white. Perhaps from growing up in this kind of world, he wanted to know, to see, to let an innocent child experience life far differently than he did. Because now, he had a choice.

"I already know what you're thinking, it's written all over your face," breaking him out of his thoughts, you gently spoke to his ear, "Not everyday our little Mari gets to spend time with her father like this. She was so happy when the teacher said it was going to be a 'take your kid to work day' assignment, you know?"

"I'd rather keep the details behind closed doors. There's not much that can be said outside the reputation everyone knows of," he reasons, "Besides, Sigewinne is the only exception because she's the head nurse. This little fellow here can hardly prounouce Meropide."

"Hey! That's not true. If I practice long and hard I can speak as perfectly as the papers on your desk!"

"Oh? You know what that's a great idea. How about we spend the day practicing your alphabets? We could also read the Boar Princess while we're at it," the Duke happily suggested.

"Wriothesley," you chide lightly, "As long as you're with her I'm sure there will be nothing to worry about," then you crouched down to Mari's height, "Right sweetie?"

"Yeah! Daddy is the strongest and smartest man in all of Fontaine!" She jumps up and down, "He can even lift me even when I'm wearing a backpack!"

Wriothesley eyes you both suspiciously, "I see how it is. Sounds like you two are teaming up."

"I like to call it a coincidential agreement," you tugged him at the arm and lead towards the stairwell, "Come on. Take the day off and let me handle the paperwork. Wouldn't want to keep the fun waiting, would you?"

Your husband folds his arms and scoffs, "A day off?"

"By the courtesy of Chief Justice Neuvillette himself," you responded.

Ah, they had it all planned out, "Astounding effort on your part, I suppose."

"Please, daddy? I swear I'll behave and not do anything to make you mad," Mari twiddles her thumbs, "Pleeease?"

Wriothesley closes his eyes, a habit he acquired during situations such as this. Well, looks like he was fighting a losing battle anyways. Maybe you were right. He was spoiling her.

"Fine. Only under one condition. You have to-"

"Call me 'Your Grace'!" She salutes immediately, " Oh, I mean...you, Your Grace."

Wriothesley glances at your way again and you merely returned a shrug. He smiles amusedly.

They really had it all planned out.

•••

When Wriothesley stepped out of his office, he was slowly starting to regret his decision.

Mari, being far too excited for her own good, already bounced a few metres ahead. He sometimes wondered where she gets her energy from. For newcomers, they easily wear out before they become used to things. Ah, that's right, I have to make sure she doesn't disturb the inmates. If this keeps going then who knows where she might end up. Archons forbid it'd be the Pankration Ring.

"Up you go," for now, Wriothesley scoops her into his hold, having the girl seated on one forearm and the other supporting her weight. Until she calms down, at least.

"Mari is reporting for duty," she salutes again.

Wriothesley lets out a chuckle, "Since when did I ever act like a Marechaussee Hunter? Wait, let me guess, you snuck to see Clorinde."

Guilty as charged. The little girl slaps a hand over her mouth, "Whoopsies."

"I'm joking. I actually didn't think you snuck out to see Clorinde," he smugly states, "Well well looks like my little culprit reveals herself."

She huffs, "Heyyy, that's cheating."

"Sorry babydoll, but I think I win this one," Wriothesley boops her nose in a playful manner and allowed Mari to stand on her own two feet, "So, are you ready for a tour around the Fortress of Meropide?"

"Where are we headed first, Your Grace?" She chirped, eyes blown wide like she was on a sugar rush from last time.

Wriothesley raised a scarred brow, "Oh you're letting me decide? In that case you'll just have to wait and see for yourself."

"Yay, I love surprises!"

Even better. This way, he can guarantee that she won't wander off to places she shouldn't be in, no one should be in.

Lunch hour was approaching and the inmates were already finishing up their shifts. He could feel the frequent looks being thrown from the cafeteria, already knowing it will be the hot topic for the next few days or weeks.

Right, then there's this part I have to deal with.

It didn't help that the man's presence alone had the same affect under normal circumstances. Seeing their Warden with a babbling little girl was rather jarring. Mari was...how should he put it, good at stealing the spotlight. So much she easily attracted all the attention from the locals. Wriothesley had never knew someone could be so pestering that it became endearing. Other than you of course. Heh, I guess that's one of many things they have in common.

He doesn't try to hide the smile softening at his features.

"C-Could that be His Grace and..."

Welp, looks like the hot topic is already cooking. Wriothesley pays no mind. There's nothing wrong with being open about his family in front of other people at least. Just because he had a reputation as the Warden to keep doesn't rob him the identity of being a father.

His mind suddenly drifts back to you. Is that why you were so insistent about this earlier?

"Daddy, everyone is looking at us funny."

The word 'daddy' does not escape those around him, percise as a radar and pointed sharply at his direction. Wriothesley expected as much. Actually, he was more surpised she even managed to remember the honorifics for this long, "Ah who cares. Let them do their thing. Anyways, didn't you say you wanted to see how the machines worked?"

A pause before she breaks out into a wide, beaming grin, "Yeah!"

"Then hold on tight," without a warning, Wriothesley lifts her until she was settled on his shoulders and ran as fast as he could, away from the crowd.

•••

"Was that...the Duke just now?"

A confused inmate, still processing at what he just saw, allowed the bitten meal in his hand fall to the plate.

"Who knew His Grace had a soft spot," Another one snickers.

Wolsey who had been tending to the dishes behind the counter exhales exasperatedly, "His Grace ought to be more careful with his actions around others next time."

•••

The shaft doors open to reveal the upper level of the production zone. Wriothesley exits first before gently taking the girl's hand as she shuffled down the two stairs. Thankfully the area had been emptied, except for a few supervisors, it was much more peaceful compared to the cafeteria.

"Wooooahh looks at all those meks!" She ogled. Meks was her way of saying gardemeks. Spending time with a five year old made him more keen to the language innuendos they create, "It's like one gigantic gear working together."

"Not just gears sweetheart, the people here are responsible for making sure ever part of the machine is functioning. Without them, there would be no clockworks you see in the surface," Wriothesley opens a palm while he explains, "I know most of your classmates only think of them as criminals, but criminals have been working for honest income."

"Does that mean the same criminals are now helping to make meks that catches more criminals and keep Fontaine safe?"

The man pauses, thinking for a moment, "You could say that."

"Hmmm," Mari looks down pensively, trying to put two and two together, "So if criminals are honest people, how did they end up in here?"

"Well uhhh... " Wriothesley breathes out quietly. It's complicated. Sometimes he doubts if the word criminal is even a proper label. Becoming a criminal isn't always by choice, some are just born into it, eventually going down a path because there was no where else to go. And the few who escape are the lucky ones, "Ah very tricky, sweetheart. Don't tell me you're here trying to get ideas."

The mischeivious expression he gave her made Mari gasp in disbelief, "I would never break the law daddy!"

"Are you sure?" He insists with jest.

"Yes, and I promised a hundred thousand times already," she emphasized.

Wriothesley pats her lightly on the head. Although his hands were calloused and scared, they carried the weight of a loving father, "Good. I know you'd do the right thing."

From the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar silouette dressed in pastel colors. Sigewinne had been speaking with Grainville at the Operation and Widget equipment. As you mentioned earlier, the head nurse pays frequent visits to check upon the health conditions of inmates. For the Duke, it was natural that he'd want to know if there was anything he should be concerned about. But now is not the time. He didn't want to drag his daughter when this was meant to be a fun activity of theirs.

"What's that over there?!" She scurries off without a warning, specifically at the direction he was glancing earlier.

Or we can just check it out anyways. Wriothesley thought to himself, using his hands to prop against his knee, standing upright so he could catch up with Mari.

The Melusine was the first to notice, "Your Grace? I'm seeing you everywhere these days. I hope you haven't been swarmed with too much to do."

It's true that Wriothesley had been more present in his timing. The Primordial Sea issue was something he wanted to be resolved as soon as possible, "I'm actually doing just fine, thank you Sigewinne."

"Y-Your Grace. I'm surprised to see you here. Are there any newcomers I must train?" Now it was Grainville's turn to intervene, "Oh, and who's this?"

"Sigewinne?? That's the nurse, daddy?" Mari exclaims, baffled as she compares her height with the other, "Why is she so small like me? Did she get hit by the short disease?"

Jeez. Children can really run around without a filter these days.

"She may be small but a lot more older than she looks," Wriothesley reasons, gentle and firm, "Aren't you forgetting something? In front of you, these people have greeted us the moment we came by. What's the right thing to do, Mari?"

It took some time for her to realize but she perks up as soon as she did. Flustered, the young lass dips herself into a low curtsy, head following suit that her hat fell to the floor, "Good afternoon. My name is Mari. I'm five years old. Nice to meet you all."

Wriothesley maintains a straight face and picks up her hat. On the inside, he could feel his heart squeezing. No matter how many tries you practiced with her, she still doesn't get it quite right. Totally his fault. He never scolds her for it.

"Hello Mari, my name's Sigewinne and I'm the head nurse," the melusine beams, "Though I'm a bit surprised, Your Grace. I thought [Name] said you didn't want to bring your daughter here."

Quick, he had to make an excuse before, "Ah, that's--"

"That's because daddy is awesome and he cares about us so much!"

Urk.

Sigewinne's countenance suggested she caught on that the Warden had a weak spot for his overly coddled daughter, "I see. You're fortunate to have such good parents, Mari. His Grace had put in great effort to ensure the safety and well-being of the Fortress. It's probably why everyone is quite satisfied with living here."

"I know," Mari nods with agreement, "Since daddy does the same thing at home."

Warmth spreads inside his chest and the glaciers of the man's gaze thaws enough for one to notice. Did she truly feel that way? Somehow, for a long time, he didn't think it was enough.

"It's true. His Grace doesn't ostracize anyone and gives them an equal chance of a better life," Grainville added.

Wriothesley crosses his arms and returns a quipped stare, "Indeed. Though I'm afraid flattery will get you as far as none. Best get to work."

Grainville salutes, "Yes, Your Grace!"

"Wait daddy, can I stay and watch?" Mari tugs the hem of his fur coat, "When I go to school tomorrow, I can tell all my friends all the cool things we did today."

He straightens his posture, "No."

"But daddyyyyyyy."

Here we go again. Except this time, the man will avoid all eye contact. Maybe he can try getting earplugs next time, which of course, must be slipped on discreetly so she wouldn't notice. If you were here, he'd be getting an earful of the same conversation he had in the office. Equipment processors can be dangerous to use if something suddenly screws loose. Who knows what might happen?

Though a father can only resist so much and he couldn't ignore her forever. Wriothesley relaxes his shoulders, the crease in his forehead fading, "Are you sure you can be careful?"

"Careful is my middlename!"

"Grainville," Wriothesley commands. Authority drips from his voice that the supervisor nearly flinched from his place, "Check if there's any malfunction in Operations and Widget equipment. I expect a thorough search once I get return from lunch."

Without a moment hesitation, Grainville executes his task as if his life depends on it.

"Daddy, can we go buy some food?" Mari looks up, "I want Fonta!"

"No junk food until you eat properly," though now she mentions it, he is craving a cup of tea by now.

Walking out of the shaft once more, Wriothesley takes another look at the environment surrounding the cafeteria, through a different lens than the last. He recalls his first day. Young, brash, and full of poor judgement. They were not the best memories, but they were certainly memories.

How things have changed. For the better, as it should. To Wriothesley, that was probably the most important aspect of all. He likes seeing signs of strength and hope, reassuring him that tomorrow will be a better day. Though he made peace with the present constantly filling him with doubt. Can the same progress be as steady as he wanted?

He thought about what you said. Then the words he heard from others. The Fortress of Meropide had improved to the point it could function autonomously. On top of that, he received high praise from both surface dwellers and those who lived in the underworld. What drives him to maintain this environment stems from his past. The good and the bad. The mistakes and lessons. The two shades of the same color blurred into one.

"Daddy, I just want to tell you, I had so much fun today. Thank you for bringing me here!"

And if those experiences of his could ensure that his daughter could live a safe and peaceful childhood, then that's everything he can ask for.

#genshin impact #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin

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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months

Text

Nanami fearing rejection from his wife and daughter after Shibuya left him seriously wounded

Pairing: Nanami x wife!reader; Nanami x daughter

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: Even though he survived Shibuya, Kento Nanami dies from the inside just by the thought of losing you and his precious little daughter due to his severe wounds and scarred skin. But despite his great fear, your reaction turns out completely different than expected.

Warnings: Let's just pretend this is how it ended okay I'm crying, tried to proofread this but I'm just veeeery depressed right now, this might be the fluff you NEED after today's episode

Request and idea by gorgeous @wifenanami <3

Everything’s a blur. What happened last? How did he get here? His heavy heart skips a beat. Oh, right. His whole left side burns like a thousand fires, arm unable to move even an inch by the way his skin feel like bursting every minute. He was severely burned. The last thing he saw was…

Haibara, then Yuji, and then…

You.

Oh god, just the thought of you kills him from the inside.

“Hey, easy there. Your heartbeat is jumping out of the roof. You need to rest now, Nanami. I already called your wife.”

The smell of burned cigarettes simply takes his breath away, along with the venomous words that leave Shoko’s mouth so casually.

“My wife?”, he coughs out, body desperately trying to sit up.

No, this is impossible. You can’t see him like that, body covered in burn marks with his left eye and hair missing. What will you think of him? And what about your daughter? That sweet innocent angel, will she even be able to recognize him? You, his wife, the love of his wife. Your daughter, the greatest treasure on earth.

Will you be disgusted by his fearful sight?

“Yeah, she’s already on her way. Honestly I wasn’t sure if you’ll make it, so I-“

“Why on earth did you call her?”

Shoko stops in her tracks, laying her head to the side in nothing but confusion.

“Huh, what are you talking about? (y/n)’s your wife after all, why wouldn’t I tell her?”

“What if she doesn’t recognize me? What if she’s freaked out by me? What if she brings our daughter with her?”

His sweaty palms begin to shake uncontrollably. In his life, Kento Nanami lost a lot of things: Jobs, money, people, good friends. But oh god, the thought of losing you, his precious little family. It truly kills him from the inside.

“Stop talking nonsense. Being pathetic doesn’t suit you at all”, Shoko remarks dryly.

His widen eyes dart towards the door, waiting in nothing but thick fear for your arrival. Was this afternoon the last time you looked at him as lovingly as you always did? Was it the last time his daughter kissed his right cheek before she left the house? It can’t be, it just can’t turn out like that.

But you deserve so much better. Damn, you are straight up gorgeous, a woman who turns heads on a regular basis. You need more than a crippled man by your side, more than one half of the man you used to know. He wouldn’t even be mad if your eyes lose the spark they hold for him when you see him today.

“I’m leaving now. Something seems to be off. I’m trying to get back by dinner.”

“Why do you have to go this early? I thought we’d have a little time for ourselves. Since our precious little angel is still at kindergarten and I have the afternoon off…”

Your hands roamed around his broad chest, eyes filled with nothing but affection and love. You were always bad at hiding your feelings, your bright orbs being the centre of his universe. God, how much he wanted to lock the door behind you, how much he longed for your touch. But this sounded serious.

“As much as I’d love to take that offer immediately, the young ones need me, (y/n). But I will return as soon as possible and then we’ll finish what you started.”

“Promise it”, you demanded, a small understanding smile decorating your delicate lips while he held your body so tightly against his.

“I promise it. I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

One last longing kiss on your forehead. One last kiss before he left your house with a last “I love you” shouted into thin air.

“Damn”, he hisses through gritted teeth, pain pulsating through his whole body, taking his sight.

What is his life worth without you in it?

-(y/n)’s POV-

“Mommy, I’m scared.”

“Hey, hold your head up high, angel. Everything will turn out alright, okay? Daddy is a hero, after all”, you reassure your daughter softly while secretly wiping away a falling tear.

When Shoko called you a few minutes ago, your feet begin to carry you on their own, heart hammering against your aching chest. Your loving husband, the man who gifted you with the precious daughter who holds your hand tightly. She didn’t tell you what happened to him, how he feels. But her tone was as urgent as never before, making you storm down the dark streets of Tokyo in pouring rain until you finally arrived at Jujutsu High, opening the well-known doors to the hospital wing with trembling hands.

Please, let him be alright. Maybe injured, but alive. Maybe distressed, but all in all fine.

Please, let your husband be alright.

You wander down the cold hallways, eyes roaming around the area in a desperate attempt to spot your husband somewhere between the countless injured people. Where is he? Where did they put him?

Suddenly, your orbs get stuck on a wave of pink hair.

“Yuji?” you breathe out.

“Mommy, there’s Yuji!”, the excited voice of your little daughter next to you cries out, already on her way to storm towards the pink-haired boy.

You can’t hold back. Out of instinct you follow her tiny feet, embracing the boy in front of you in a tight hug.

“Please tell me you’re alright, tell me you feel well”, you whisper into his ear.

In an instant, tears start to swell up his eyes, soaking through the fabric of your elegant autumn dress. Your heart shatters into a million pieces, hands gently stroking through his hair.

“I’m not. I’m far away from feeling well, (y/n)”, he cries against your neck, letting himself fall completely against your frame.

Oh Yuji. You hate to see him like that, his thick tears falling like the pouring rain outside.

“I’m sorry for letting Nanami-sensei down, I’m sorry for all the things I did, I-“

“Don’t talk any further. I’m sure you did your best, Yuji. And I know Kento is very proud of you. Please, get some rest now, okay? Did Shoko already check on you? Hey, do you want to stay with me tonight?”

“You can sleep in my room!” your daughter suggests in an instant, hugging Yuji’s leg while looking up at him with doe eyes.

“Thank you, I’m okay. You should look after Nanami-sensei. After all you’re here because of him and not because of me, right?”

“I will always look after you, Yuji. But yes, I’d really like to see my husband right now”, you reply tenderly.

“Is my dad alright?”

“He’s in room 018 down the hall. Please…tell him I’m sorry”, Yuji mutters.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, thank you for your help, Yuji. Come on darling, let’s go see daddy.”

You let out your shaky breath, hand holding onto the doorknob. Finally. You will definitely pay Yuji a visit later on. But know, you have to focus on him. Finally, you’re able to see your husband again.

“Kento, I’m here-“

“Don’t look at me. Get out and never come back”, his harsh voice instructs you.

There he sits, back faces towards you will a white cloak covering his upper body. Your mind begins to race, his punitive tone being to unusual. Not even when discussing, your husband ever turned this cold. What has gotten into him?

“Hi daddy!” your daughter greets her father with all excitement.

His heart breaks in an instant. Why? Why on earth do you have to be here? And why did you have to bring your daughter with you? Why do you have to see him like that?

“I am not the man you fell in love with anymore, (y/n).”

The bitterness in his voice makes you squint your eyes while walking towards him.

“What are you talking about, Kento? I might love you even more after you survived this hell”, you reply in an instant.

“Daddy, what happened to your face?”

Like in slow motion he turns around, revealing severe burns on the left side of his body and his eye covered in bandages. Your heart skips a beat. Oh god, what happened to your poor husband?

“Who did this to you, love?”

“It doesn’t matter how or who. But I understand that I’m not the man you married anymore. I am only half of the man I used to be. So if you want to leave me behind, if you want to take care of our daughter alone-“

He is forced to stop mid-sentence by the way his little daughter presses her tiny body onto his lap, hugging him as tightly as never before. And your gaze that makes time stand still. Your gaze that isn’t filled with disgust like he imagined.

No, your look holds nothing but love and gratitude.

“You can’t imagine how happy I am to see that you are well. When Shoko called me I thought we’ll might lose you. Kento, I…I love you with all my heart. The thought of letting you go, the thought of never seeing you again. I’m so glad.”

And then you sprint towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck carefully with your loving gaze never leaving him.

All pain seems to vanish, nothing else but you matter. Your eyes always tell the truth, he knows all too well. And right now, they scream at him in nothing put the pureness of love while a tear runs down your smiling delicate mouth.

“Now you look like a hero, daddy”, his daughter mumbles against his chest, smiling up at him so widely that even Kento Nanami can’t hold back any longer.

“Because he is, sweetheart. Your dad is a hero”, you clarify with shaky voice, pressing a kiss against his right cheek.

“You aren’t disgusted? Even though I look nothing like the man you fell in love with an never will?”, you mutters.

Gently, your hand caresses his uninjured cheek.

“Nothing will ever distress my love for you. No scar in the world will stop me from loving you with all my heart. I’m so glad you came back to me alive. Nothing else matters.”

“I think you look cool, daddy!”

A single tear rolls down his cheek. For the first time in his life, he isn’t able to keep his composure any longer. A tear of joy, a tear of gratitude. Of course, Nanami was always very aware of what a wonderful woman you are and how well you cared for his little daughter as well. But oh, seeing both of you with your arms wrapped around him, gazing at him with nothing but love and tenderness in your orbs…

Your eyes never lied at him.

How does he even deserve this? How does a simple man like Kento Nanami deserve such a loving wife and daughter made of pure gold?

“We need a cool name for you now, daddy.”

“Daddy first needs all his energy to get well again, sweetheart. But yes, you are right. After all, every hero has a special name, right?”, you reply, chuckling over your very own falling tears.

“I’m not a hero, darling”, Nanami contradicts, running his hand through his daughter’s hair softly.

“But to me you are, daddy. And to mommy too.”

“Indeed. And when all of this is over, I’ll take you to Malaysia”, you confirm, cuddling against his chest while resting your eyes.

“Malaysia, huh? Sounds great…”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96

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animeshotsh · 4 months

Note

Omg I love your makima reader!!! But like what if there was Denji reader👁👁

Like reader is like easy to fall in love with everyone and all that and having Chainsaw abilities just by her heart, and doing basically what denji have done, now that denji reader is in hell what happens when the ey meet the whole characters at the hotel

I see user don’t know lucifer since reader thought hell was actually the hell they went to (let’s call it purgatory where all embodiments of fear lives) but they’re In hell where lucifer rules, what are the characters first thoughts about denji reader

Keep up the good work on ur fics!!🫶🏽🫶🏽

Take some breaks and drink some water🫶🏽🫶🏽

Thanks anon for this amazing idea! And your sweet message 💕 ~

Eh? | Various x Denji!Reader

After dying (finally do you know how much power it takes to kill the chainsaw man?) You end up waking up in a place that resembles a city. A very dirty and bloody one.

Of course you are confused, this cant be hell, hell has lots of doors and its all dark. So what is this? A demon power? A travel to another universe?

Whatever it is you dont care, seeing that you still have your powers its enough. Also, being back to having to steal to survive feels like nothing.

Turns out people here give zero shit towards any type of law violation so of course you end using your powers to attack and defend yourself.

Why are you picking up a pig and why a Demon who looks like a spider its coming towards you?

Angel its a lost of words as you give his little friend back, your body all covered in blood and the chains coming from your arms not suprising him.

More the fact that you look like a lost puppy as you ask what this place is and why he looks like a spider.

~☆~☆~☆

Angel its quick to flirt with you, getting you all flustered and confused. You think you are in love as he takes you back to the hotel.

Thats till you meet Husk who could not care less about you but now has to deal with you asking for drinks and seeing your pathetic attemp to flirt.

~☆~☆~☆

Once Charlie meets you and does break the news to you, you are lose in words...then she offers you to stay for free and have food as long as you dont cause trouble.

Its paradise to you.

~☆~☆~☆

Alastor thinks you are stupid but likes to see you do something and fail, he takes note on how the smallest things brings you joy. The first time he saw you fightning he was suprised to say the least.

~☆~☆~☆

Oh and when you meet Lucifer.

"I thought you would be scarier than Darkness demon was worse...and taller"

Lucifer its now questioning why he is so short and why you were talking to him only to end chasing off one spider.

~☆~☆~☆

You would end being a overlord without knowing you are one. The "meetings" seems more like friends gathering together. The other overlords cant take you seriously at all.

Its thanks to Rosie and Alastor that you end staying during the meetings even if you fall sleep most times.

~☆~☆~

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader

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almacambiondaughterofsaleos · 7 months

Text

Octavia Is Sidelined So Much In Favor Of Stolitz

Despite being used as an example of how Stolas is really a good person and father, I do notice overtime her importance in the series has dwindled. Seriously, despite how the narrative wants us to think she is the treasured jewel of his life the execution would have you say that her father is more distracted by his boy toy due to how Vivziepoop has overemphasized the Stolitz ship.

Take for example is "Seeing Stars" where he neglects his daughter and breaks his promise to see the event he promised years ago, because he's so wrapped up in his divorce and even goes to insult her mother in front of her (even though he's said in the past he's tried to shield his daughter from the ugly parts of his and Stella's relationship). However, now that he's divorcing he doesn't hesitate to be as ugly with Stella as possible which shows how really good of a father he is. Also when she goes missing despite saying that Blitzo's dick isn't enough to quell Stolas's anger when it's his daughter is involved... well it actually goes like that, because both Blitzo and Stolas can't help but flirt and be flustered around each other this whole episode. Instead of focusing on his daughter, he again is on Blitzo's dick and even worse his daughter has to forgive him for neglecting her.

Most egregious one of the them is at the end of "Western Energy" where we have the emphasis on how this affects Stolas and Blitzo's relationships especially those texts talking about their fall about Ozzie's. However, we never get focus on how Octavia felt after her father fucking almost bit the dust, because in the next episode that Stolas is in he's okay and again you would think he would be injured a bit more to show how serious Striker is. But nope due to Vivziepoop remembering he's a powerful demon, he recovers in a day and we don't see Octavia at least be escorted to the hospital to see him because again Octavia is only there when she's a tool to make him look better and not her own character.

And now we get to the music video of "Just Look My Way" where Octavia's mentions in it are scrubbed in favor of Blitzo which again shows how the narrative is favoring his boy toy over his own fucking daughter who is supposed to be the center of his world and not this person he's given up so much for. Seriously, it's why if Octavia appears again I will not take the narrative seriously because we know that despite all claims that her father will get distracted from being a parent and ogle over Blitzo because he's a selfish pos and yet Octavia will be the one who has to learn to tolerate his bs because he's got the author's favoritism.

I really at the first thought that Stolas relationship with his daughter was sweet, but then I realize like so many else it really lost it's potential once you realize that Octavia is just a prop to artificially make it seem like Stolas is a good father when in actuality he's selfishly putting her needs above hers in a situation he caused. And it's a result of the fact that the writers are just using her as a writing tool and not a full character. She isn't needed until it affects Stolas and even then the Stolitz ship zaps everything around it so that any attention that Octavia is taken away. In a way, Octavia's fears were justified her father would run off and leave her because the writers are.

#helluva boss #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop #anti-vivziepop #octavia #anti-stolas #anti-stolitz #stolitz #stolas #pro-octavia #octavia goetia #stolas goetia #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical

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afreakingdork · 2 months

Text

Weak Spot - Chapter 67

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Hold your belongings close and this week’s chapter art by @aimike17 closer!

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis: A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

This may seem like a rehash of last week''s, but @tmntxthings seriously came in CLUTCH for these last few chapters. I had a lot of details that weren't ironed out for whatever reason and she helped me put them in real order! We wouldn't have Weak Spot as we know it without her!!!!

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Things were pleasantly stabilizing. For once in what felt like years you had time to breathe. Not always a bad thing as Donnie had a penchant for taking your breath away, it was instead a slowdown from the nonstop repetitiveness of undertakings occuring. They were always begging for your utmost attention and just having a few months of normality in comparison felt like a vacation all its own.

You were healthy.

Donnie was healthy.

Your friends.

Your family.

The storm had passed and with a righted ship, you applied yourself at your job. Finally able to look at long term goals, you plotted out that you could be moved back into your position by performance reviews next year. A long goal, but not a lofty one, you had heard murmurs of how they hadn’t hired anyone for your old position. You kept yourself humble, but you had a feeling that maybe you’d be asked back sooner.

First, however, you were going to obliterate the simpler desk job they passed off to you and leverage that for a fatter raise if that were the case.

If not, you could catch up on the backlog of filing and then ride out the cushy position.

It was a win-win.

Optimism.

Not something you thought too much on, you felt it creeping up on you. You kept your back to it just in case, but it acted as a lounge chair. You could recline in happy thoughts for once and Donnie appeared to be doing the same. You both kept busy both separate and together which made the overall mood a light one. With summer having scorched the earth, you had a second yielding of crops from your rooftop garden. Besides the comfortable labor done up there of tending to it, Donnie had procured that tree you wanted and you found yourselves relaxing in the space for the sake of it. You’d drink in sunsets and sneak glances at each other as the city hummed around you.

You had a good work day, a catered lunch with coworkers, and an uneventful ride home to your apartment. Donnie was on the schedule for dinner tonight and the dish he was making was one you’d had many times before. A delicious staple, it was to be yet another normal evening as you stepped through your threshold. Your boyfriend wasn’t at his desk which didn’t pique any necessary worries as meal prep always took him in roundabout ways depending on his mood. You took care in putting your things up and went to get something to drink.

You were sipping on a beverage and gazing out the kitchen window at two lovers schmoozing on the street below when the door opened.

Donnie appeared with a grocery bag cradled to his chest and his carapace to you.

“Hey, Sweet. Beat you.” You tipped your glass to him.

He barely nodded.

Distraction not a foreign thing when he had recipe steps filtering through his mind, you moved out of the kitchen to give him space.

He made it exactly halfway there before you heard a comical rip.

Something that could double as movie foley, you saw Donnie hunch where groceries then spilled out around him before he could react.

Round objects rolled to settle and there was a glug of something leaking.

Donnie didn’t move.

He was frozen in place.

You set your drink down and properly took him in.

Not lengthy exhaustion, but tight lines of today’s anxiety creased his face. There was then a smudge on his cheek that was barely perceptible and not something you could identify. From there you realized that the way he clutched the grocery bag was because one of the straps was already torn. A thin and separate rip then took the bottom, though there was an odd gouge where it started. The spill poured from there, but a different sort of streak of what looked like dust streaked his pants.

All that information taken in only a few seconds, you pivoted and headed toward the kitchen. You gathered a towel that was disposable and a roll of paper towels. You were at Donnie’s side in an instant cleaning up the mess as he stood a statue over you.

Saving grocery goods that hadn’t been destroyed in the wreckage, you saw the brand.

It was to that grocery store you tried to conquer once every few months. Always an ordeal, it had been agreed upon that Donnie wasn’t to attend. This was your venture and you were fine with that. Which meant him having gone made little sense. You yourself had been not that long ago and there were still items from the store dotting the freezer. Your dinner was a common one so there shouldn’t have been any reason for him to go out of his way.

A rag was soaking up lost juice and you looked up at him with a box in hand. “Why did you go here?”

His lips parted, but nothing came.

You softened at his struggle and moved to finish cleaning up. You then took several trips bringing everything salvable to the kitchen before you attended to the rock solid form of your mate. He watched you with his eyes, but his posture hadn’t unfurled in the slightest. Taking great care not to touch him, you instead slid through the remains of the bag and coaxed him with tiny pulls to release.

He did so with peeling back fingers and a grip like one reserved for roller coaster safety bars.

“I’m gonna toss this.” You told him and examined the bag on the way to the trash. The spindly fibers on the handle said it had broken with use. It made sense as weight mattered little to Donnie so you imagined the bag had mistakenly been taxed. From there, you couldn’t parse out the tear to the bottom. There was an outward puncture as if it had been stabbed through, but the groceries you gathered didn’t have damage that matched.

Dumping the thing, you turned to find Donnie had cracked his façade and was looking down at his legs. It took you no time to spy a dark splatter on his pants from where the juice had exploded upon ground contact.

“Why don’t you wash up and change?”

It was as if he needed to hear the offer to do more and gave a solemn nod.

You watched him disappear around the partition and looked after him with metered affection. Though the circumstances were bad, you loved this side of him just as much. No matter how put together he tried to make himself, he still got as hung up as anyone else. You didn’t need him humanized in your eyes, but knowing that you were one of the few who got to see it warmed your heart.

Doing a last pass to make sure everything was cleaned from the spill, you set to work throwing something in the oven. Taking out a freezer backup meal, you were re-reading the instructions while the oven warmed when Donnie emerged in another full blown outfit. One you liked on him, it chiseled his usual carved form and he came over with intent oozing off of him.

“Did you want to go out? I can turn the oven off.” You made a show of the box you had yet to open.

He took it in with a furl of his brow and nothing more.

“Donnie?” You tilted your head to catch his eye. “You okay?”

He said nothing, but his features further creased until he was outright scowling.

“Is it this?” You showed him the meal again. “There’s also a pasta. You liked it last time, we can do that instead?”

“Pasta.” He spoke the word as if possessed.

It didn’t read as a confirmation to you and instead almost like a mime. “Don, I’m starting to worry.”

That seemed to penetrate him and he looked at you with renewed intent. “Restaurant?”

“We can.” You moved to shut the oven off.

The moment your back turned, you heard him give a testy sort of grunt.

It slowed your finger near the off button. “Or… not?”

Silence again reigned so you turned to view him.

It took several long moments, but you thought you got a read off him.

It almost looked like he was paralyzed by choice.

He needed you to be clear and concise so you gave him a reassuring smile. “Let’s order out, get something nice.”

He stalled in a nod, but eventually his head bowed, deferring to your decision.

You remembered he’d mentioned a new Italian place earlier that week so you recommended it.

Again, he agreed with a shaky bob of his head.

You moved close, but gave him a berth as you brought up your phone. Finding the location and flipping through the menu a few times, he eventually named a dish for himself and you selected your own. Throwing in an appetizer for good measure and a dessert that sounded like something he liked, you pressed send. The page turned over for a confirmation and you moved wordlessly to put the freezer meal away.

You passed him toward the living room to get your drink.

He needed space to process.

Plopping down and getting comfortable, you sipped from your glass.

You watched your partner move through motions without movement.

He seemed to scold himself.

There was a pause as if he found fault.

He then forgave his person with a heave of the sigh.

Something difficult, it pummeled his strength and he moved to hold the counter.

It was his version of a breather, but whatever the conundrum was, wasn’t solved.

He was trapped with it and sent that distress to you.

You made an obvious show of setting your glass down to telegraph he had you in any form he needed.

It came with his shuffling feet where his knees bumped the far couch arm.

You watched as he tipped like a plank of wood until he collapsed, face first, into the center cushion.

Behind him, his legs extended straight into the air.

You chewed on a laugh.

He laid in that position for a little too long.

You moved, first unsure, then careful to graze the back of his head.

The touch was a question.

He answered it with a heaved sigh and a turn of his cheek.

You weren’t sure what that meant, but you could now see that smudge better. You still didn’t know what it was, but you stood. A few steps to the bedroom and back got you a tissue and you knelt down in front of him. He watched you with a beaten down expression and you took great care in wiping his cheek clean.

“Thank you.” He mumbled earnestly.

You nodded and chanced the faintest peck to his brow. “Whatever you need.”

For a split second, all the strain washed off him.

What looked at you was your loving mate.

Then misery returned to him and he soured with a pucker.

It shallowed your heart and you sent that concern to him. “What is it, Don?”

He shook his head before rolling all the way over and buried himself into the back of the couch. It pulled his legs off from their perch on the arm and he curled them up to his body in almost a fetal position. You watched on with a hopeless feeling and caught how he’d left your seat open. Giving your own exhale before standing, you sat there and wondered what the next best step was.

The wait for food to arrive was always so annoying.

You ordered and were forced to wait just long enough that having a snack was debatable, but discouraged.

Wondering if maybe hunger was getting Donnie down in some form, you felt a bump to your thigh.

Blinking once outward then twice at your leg, you found that said man in question had squirreled his way up the few inches that separated you so the top of his head could just graze your leg.

You watched him with metered interest.

With a shimmy of his shoulders, he repeated the move, but jostled you without any strength.

You weren’t exactly sure, but you adjusted your recline so your lap was open.

He tilted his head just long enough to spy on you.

You were waiting there with a quirked brow.

He hid away in what seemed like irritation in having been caught.

“You can always ask if you’re not sure…” You told the air and patted your legs in offer.

You counted exactly five seconds before he kicked off the far armrest so his body would lift. His head landed on your lap and when you tried to look down at him, he buried his beak into your stomach.

“Silly cutie.” You told him.

He grunted against you with a warmth spreading through your top.

He wiggled, obviously breathing you in.

You chanced setting a hand on his arm.

His body curled, trying to get closer where the couch was in the way.

It reminded you of how he wrapped his body around you when he was in the midst of his heat.

In a slow stroke, you pet his arm. “Did you have a bad day?”

It took some processing time, but he nodded against you.

“Sucks.” You commiserated. “I know those and I’m here for you.”

He spoke something, but you couldn’t hear it.

“Hm?” You continued to pet his arm.

He said nothing more and grew slack against you.

Picking a piece of lint from him, you rubbed his limb then this head. It took a long while, but eventually he gave into the barest churr which you took as a good sign. There was a beep from the computer and you looked over to see the feed of a delivery person. “I’m gonna get the food.”

Donnie gave a little annoyed chuff and curled down into himself.

It freed you up and you bent to kiss his head before going to get the door. An easy transaction, you gathered bags and moved to the kitchen. Donnie stayed put and you gathered up his meal with his preferred utensils. Moving to bring his over first, you set up his container in a restaurant-style presentation before returning to the kitchen to grab yours. Upon returning, he had unfurled and was looking at his meal with a tired eye.

You sat beside him and were careful not to jostle his being.

He rubbed an eye and took a fork around the time you got the remote. “Want to watch something?”

“That one show.”

You hadn’t been prepared for a response and your head snapped to him.

“The hospital one.”

You knew it because he’d mentioned he liked their accurate take.

It was also an albeit silly one.

Tempering your surprise that he’d picked at all, you pulled it up. “Which episode?”

“Dumb luck one.”

Your eyes shot wide and you fought every single instinct not to send awe at your partner.

You flipped screens knowing which episode he was talking about and it also happened to be the one he’d praised the show on. It all felt so surreal, but the moment it started, you saw Donnie move to eat. After he’d successfully chewed his first bite, you watched the monotony of consumption hit him and it allowed his brain to give way to simpler stimulation.

You eventually ate yourself and watched as the episode rolled into another. It was nearing the fourth one when Donnie made a little noise. It had an attentive quality, as if something occurred to him, and you moved to check in. You found his gaze clear, but the weight of his worries had dropped upon him anew. Brows pinched tight enough to seal a leak, it trapped the concerns of his brilliant mind.

You set your container down where it had been laying empty in your lap and crossed the space to sit directly beside him.

He promptly got up and moved one sofa square further from you.

His rebuff struck you like a blow.

You hadn’t bothered him, but he ran from you.

You shirked away and gathered the discarded take-out. Putting things away in the kitchen, you tossed trash, set a few things to soak, and did it all with a broken heart. You argued with it, hoping to push it away and make sense of what was bothering him. It seemed to twirl down a drain and you eventually relented to wash up. Changing into pajamas, you exited the restroom to find Donnie’s head still sat, unmoved, from where he was still sat on the couch.

He’d stay there.

You weren’t mad.

You weren’t even necessarily hurt.

It did sting through.

You were slow to part the curtains of the canopy. You looked up at them and thought about their origin. You’d recommended them after a bad day of your own. Donnie had worked so hard then and you twisted a hand in the fabric. A soft material, it gave easily and you wondered what you were missing. From the gentle action to asking, it seemed you’d rounded all the bases except space. A frustrating one, he had illustrated the concept literally and you supposed he did so because he couldn’t elaborate.

Clutching onto that hope, you released the canopy. This was meant to be his safe haven so you turned to look out at him. “Hey, Don?”

His head tipped upward as if he had awoken.

“Let’s switch. You take the bed and I’ll sit on the couch?” You stepped away with the offer.

Donnie dipped to gather force and then stood. Standing statuesque for a moment, he then turned mechanically. Step by step, he walked out from the couch until he lifted his eyes from the floor and glimpsed you. “You changed.”

“Huh?” You looked down at yourself and then to him. “Oh yeah, you’re still dressed.”

He reached you with his worries percolating, but they now seemed centered on your pajamas.

You tipped your body to catch his eye.

He gave it with lined concern.

“Did we need to go somewhere?”

“No.”

A frown tried to manifest on your lips, but you forced it into a thin line. “Here.” You gestured to the bed. “Get some rest, okay? Love you.”

You didn’t wait and moved around him.

You felt him track you with a full rotation of his body.

His gaze felt burrowing as you sat on the couch and ducked out of sight just to shake it off.

Everything was fine.

Your peace was intact.

Donnie had a bad day.

How many of those had he had?

Not many that weren’t equally shared by you.

This was uncharted territory.

He needed space.

He’d passed along as much.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

It was okay.

You felt assured as you groped for the remote.

It was down by your feet and you had to reach for it.

When you laid back out, Donnie was standing an ominous shadow above you.

A small yelp escaped your throat. “What are you doing!?”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You held a hand to your heart where it was racing.

He stared down.

“Donnie, please. I don’t know what you want.” You sat up and nearly immediately he took a seat in the space you left. “O… kay…?”

His posture was terrible, he was a curved ‘C,’ and his hands twiddled thumbs in his lap.

You guessed you had been wrong about the bed.

You moved to stand.

Donnie snatched your wrist.

You stared at him.

His eyes warped, pleading.

“Don…”

“Y/N…”

“Yes?” You begged him.

Distress bled from his lips.

You tugged lightly on your hand.

His grip tightened.

“Donatello. I don’t know. I can’t know unless you share. Please. I want to help.”

“You can’t.”

It felt like another lash to your chest.

“I am the failure here.”

You jarred.

“It is my own to bear.”

“What are you talking about?” You moved to face him.

His grip on your wrist changed to a loose cuff. “Restaurant.”

“Huh?”

“To cliché. Too obvious. Already done to capacity.”

“Don…”

“The venue?” He glanced away, seeing plans you couldn’t. “Outdoor, romantic? Assuredly, but taken. I’ve plotted our Valentine’s seven years in advance.”

It was such an oddly specific number you wanted to ask about.

“Indoor, the same. Stunning architecture? A backdrop. A fountain? Does that compare our love to water? My cup runneth over. Of course it does!”

Your fingers curled in his.

He didn’t seem to notice. “That brought comparisons, metaphors, places we’ve been before. Retreads, deeper meanings, foils! The sandwich shop where we met! The outside of your work building! That courtyard where you revealed your sorrows! Rooftops! Alleyways!! Food!! Beverage!!! Grocery store!!!”

He was becoming more manic by the second.

“Not center stage!!! Something small!! Something meaningful!!! The options!!! So many fucking options!!!”

You were in motion and you broke free of him.

He did nothing to hold you back.

You caught his face.

“The guilt has been eating me alive!”

You inhaled sharply as you got an up close look at his glassy gaze.

“Nothing is worthy of you. Nothing is good enough. I am at my end. It has to be good enough. I have to be good enough.”

“Donnie, please. You are-”

“A meal! I thought! I’d already considered it and a million others, but I could create a dish that rolls all meaning into one. I’d make a standard, one we both enjoyed. It would represent our connection, the banality of it all. How in that we matter so much more! A centerpiece dotting an average night turning it into an unforgettable one!!”

You loosened your grip and he pressed his cheek against one of your palms.

“If ever there was a folly, I encountered it today.”

You tucked your fingers under his chin and scratched his favorite spot.

He didn’t have it in him to churr. “I fell back asleep after you left this morning. I need strength for today’s mission so I rooted into your pillow. I do adore your scent.”

Your face warmed.

“Lulled, I woke later than my preparation required so I rushed. Changed, the outfit I meant was to be picked up so I was forced into another. I took the stairs instead of the elevator, a rush, quicker. Outside and to the store before I realized I’d forgotten totes and, more importantly, my wallet.”

You nodded, attentive.

“I returned, gathered those only to be stopped by movers on the floor below. They’d wedged a dresser in the stairwell so I meant to pick it up and move it for time’s sake. It was repulsively dirty.”

That explained the dust.

“They thanked me and initiated touch which…” Donnie shuddered. “I weathered and made it to the store only for a key ingredient to be sold out! I moved to another store and found the same! I hacked the inventory systems to find the buyer was a rogue food truck owner who did not receive their order. They decided to instead rob the everyday consumer by buying up all surrounding stock!”

You leaned into him.

He accepted you with a moment of closed eyes as his forehead bumped yours. “That left me without options as time was ceaselessly ticking so I opted for a last minute adjustment. Another of our favorite meals with exclusive ingredients from that store you like.”

You nuzzled him.

He gave a few second rumble in his throat. “It remains a nightmare. The people. The staff! So loud! So synthetic!”

“Foods worth it.”

“It was meant to be! I gathered what I needed and made it to the curb where the car was parked when it was struck.”

You jolted away to stare down at him.

He looked at you with severity. “The hazards were on. Every precaution was taken. My system may be able to protect itself, but others always have a portion of incalculable unknowns.”

“You were in a car wreck!?”

“I had yet to enter the vehicle. I was leaned forward to set the filled bags in the seat when it was rear ended. I watched as everything I had purchased be crushed in an instant.”

“Donnie!”

“I was uninjured, but there came police and insurance reports, and endless, endless, conversation!”

“Was the other person-!?”

“Fine! They were fine! The cars were both totaled. It’s fine.It was time for an upgrade, but the hemorrhaging of time!!”

You wilted.

“I returned inside, I bought the scant ingredients as the damn store was being picked clean, but I did what had to be done. My last chance for scraping together the evening. I got my bags. I moved to exit.”

He was building and your face expressed your woe.

“A child knocked over an enormous vase housing a floral display in the entrance and I was skewered.”

“You said you weren't injured!?”

“I wasn’t!” Donnie’s teeth appeared in a curl. “I dodged and thought I compensated for the bag’s swing!”

“But!?”

“But.” He repeated harshly. “I also dove to save the boy from the shattering glass. In the process, the bag was punctured.”

“The bag.”

“Not the boy.” Donnie scoffed at the clarification. “The child saw the piece and thought it helpful to rip the chunk out!”

You gave what was almost a laugh.

“I saved his hand and berated him in not only glass safety protocol but that leaving a weapon in a stab wound is proper procedure.”

“You told a kid what!?”

“Trust.” His gaze was flat with the pained memory. “His mother had quite a bit to say about that. Please.”

You almost felt dizzy. “Okay… All this… takes up more time...”

“The bag was in disarray, but the food was untouched, so I only needed to support the bottom and ride… public transit.” Donnie sneered.

“Don…” You shrank with sympathy.

He pulled you into his arms and spoke softly to your ear.

“Dreadful. The sights. The smells. The horror.” He tucked his beak against you. “I made it. You arrived home before me. How could I prepare? I had all, but given up. Then… I saw you.”

You leaned against him.

“A vision. All my worries vanished. You, a stunning placement, bathed in window light. Your glass glittering as you sipped. Your mood jovial. I thought anew. We would cook together. Show our bond. More of our domesticity.”

“The bag…”

“The bag had presumably worn the weight no matter what my hold and had other ideas.”

“You froze.”

“It felt as though my entire plot collapsed as well. Before I could do a single moment of damage control, you were taking charge. From cleaning, to the meal, what was left?”

“Anything…? You wanted to highlight how well we work together.”

“I had been absent! For all of it! Spiraling from plans left unlaid!”

“So…? We fix it?”

“I needed you to fix it! I need to explain! That wasn’t the plan! It was too far gone! I’d been silent too long! It was an illustration, but also a surprise!”

You weren’t sure what to say.

“Then in my wretched attitude, I rebuked you?! Idiot! I was dwelling on when to reschedule. The moment I moved away from your worry was the moment I realized my grave mistake! I hurt your feelings which meant I would have to wait until they were repaired before even chancing a thing.”

“What…? What is all of this? I keep thinking you’ll say it, but you’re just alluding to something I don’t know about.”

“You!” He spoke as if that was the answer.

You stared back with sadness tinting you.

“You…” He cupped your hand to his cheek. “Our love.”

You shook your head, not understanding.

“I can’t do it like this. Please… If you can continue to wait?”

“Donnie.” You sighed. “You know I’ll wait for you. You know I’ll always wait for whatever you need. You aren’t getting rid of me, but all this sounds ridiculous. I don’t know what you’re trying to plan or why it has to all be good for something to happen. Bad things happen. I think every bad thing that could happen, has happened to us. It matters, but it also doesn’t! We have each other and that’s what’s important. Like you said: our day to day, the fact that we can, will, are, whatever, going to do this for the rest of our lives is proof. All the stupid weeknight dinners. Watching whatever shows. Cleaning. Cooking. Maintaining a house. Taking care of us and anyone else.”

A little color marked his cheeks.

You kissed each of them, one at a time. “You’re right. That’s what’s important. It’s how we interact. How we’re codependent or whatever! We’re us forever and always and we like it. We’re not all these crazy things. We’re this and if we can do this? We can do anything.”

You watched all concern wash away from your partner.

He moved, carefully, to take you close.

He kissed you with a shallow press that said he needed to do more.

Allowing him that, he stood and ushered you onto the couch.

Taking the middle seat, you watched as he looked only once at the coffee table.

It was clean from where you’d removed the remnants of dinner and he caught one end to lift it.

As if it were paper, he sat it on its side and it stood a tall wooden obelisk.

He gave it a little rock to test how sturdy it was.

Satisfied it wouldn’t fall, he released it and addressed you.

His hand disappeared into his pocket.

He removed it with something concealed.

He dropped down onto one knee.

Everything hit you with a flood that watered your eyes.

“Y/N L/N…”

Your hands flew up to cover your mouth.

He looked at you through his lids and his own outpouring of adoration. “I should scold you for stealing my moment, but you have also assured me that I will have nothing but opportunity for another.”

You shook your head and a few tears loosed.

“I should have known.”

He smiled fondly.

“The best way to do this was whenever felt right.”

His hand came up.

“No planning, just as you appeared without any.”

One palm offered, he unfurled his fingers to reveal the jewelry box.

“My heart.”

His other hand opened it up to reveal a clean band that seemed to radiate some kind of aura.

“My love.”

He offered it up to you and all of him read submissive.

“My life. I offer it all. Will you please marry me?”

You nodded too furiously. “Yes!!!”

Tears darted the air as you shot forward the moment he tried to grab the ring.

The box clicked shut and you tackled him.

To the ground where you both laughed and tears flowed.

“How long have you been worrying about this?!” You croaked against him.

He wrapped his arms around you. “Months. You caught me planning multiple times, but never noticed!”

“Evil!”

He laughed brightly and wrung you side to side.

It bumped a table leg and you both froze as the coffee table wobbled.

Donnie rolled over top of you so he’d take the brunt of the damage.

The table only fell like a bridge.

It landed on all its feet and hovered inches above your fiancé.

Locked safely beneath it, you sent all your affections before you kissed him.

Having weaseled his arm into position, he slipped the ring on your finger and you felt it warm your digit.

💜NEXT💜

I don't know the exact date, but we are hard coming up on a year that @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83 have been my betas! I have and endless sea of gratitude for them both! They are integral to my writing at this point!

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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xoxomoonlightxoxo · 6 months

Text

Don't Get Attached | Part 3

➪ Playlist (Spotify)

➪ W/c: 1640

I Can Beg For You

Even though it has been about a week since Jungkook and I last saw each other he has yet to miss a day of not calling my phone at least once. Of course, I don’t answer, not because I’m petty but more so because I fear that my emotions might take over again. I’ve been a mess since the incident and that’s putting it lightly. I mean, I don’t remember the last time I stepped foot out of my apartment but I guess today’s the day as my friend, Jinni invited the girls and me out for a night out. Do I want to go? No, not really. Should I go? Yes, probably. As much as I’ve grown comfortable with rotting away in my room, I simply cannot keep doing this.

So, I put on my tightest mini dress and let the curls loose before spraying the perfume Jungkook adored so much. The truth is, I can’t seem to let him go, not yet at least. In my head we are still together, so I pay the price of that delusion by filling the void in my heart with his sweet lies. You can call me naive all you want but something about him is just … I don’t know … irresistible, I guess. No, fuck him. For the love of God, don’t get attached y/n.

- -

Making our way into the club we are welcomed by the pungent smell of alcohol mixed with sweat and cologne as Jinni pulls me straight to the dance floor. The place is packed and there isn’t much space to actually bust a move if you know what I mean, so most people resorted to simply grinding on each other. Realizing that I’m too sober to take this seriously I excuse myself to grab us some drinks. However, as the night went on, one shot turned into three which then doubled and after that, I just lost count. Feeling the alcohol in my system, the whole grinding thing no longer bothered me as much.

Pulling Jinni closer we danced the night away, screaming our lungs out when the DJ played throwback Usher songs. It was all fun and games until I really let loose. The louder the music got the quieter my thoughts were and the more I drank the less I could think clearly, which in hindsight was a recipe for a disaster but in the moment was exactly what I needed. So, there I was, strutting away to some Timbaland on top of the wooden countertop as drunk men kept throwing dollar bills at me. While I was unfazed by the whole thing, Jinni had a heart attack after each shaky step I took in my 4-inch heels. The probability of me falling off was as high as most people in the club, so her concern was not exaggerated.

“Y/n please come down, you’re gonna fall,” she screams, unfortunately for her, I was now surrounded by a sound barrier from the blasting overhead speakers.

“Jiiinniii, dance with me,” I whine, eyes barely open as my arms reach for her. Shaking her head, Jinni quickly grabbed her phone and dialled the only person she knew could deal with my drunk self.

“Jungkook? Hey, please hurry, y/n is drunk and won’t get down from bar island,” she screams into the speaker, turning her head to the lounge area where the rest of our group was. A rookie mistake, since by the time her attention was back on the table I was no longer there. Instead, I was in the poorly lit women’s bathroom with some random guy whose grip tightened around my waist.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, gaze focused on my lips as my back presses onto the cold wall.

“Do whatever you want,” I sigh, intertwining my hands in his dishevelled hair. I know it’s wrong, but if I keep my eyes closed I can almost feel Jungkook’s embrace. His veiny hands on my thighs as we both gasp for air from the sinful kisses. All that, of course, is merely the work of my imagination. At that moment, it’s not Jungkook's hands, not his lips, not him. With all the alcohol in my system, my body has become numb to external sensations until a familiar melody rings from my purse. Speaking of the devil, it’s Jungkook. Did my heartbeat increase? Maybe.

“Come over y/n,” Jungkook says, his voice raspy and harsh as he presses on the gas pedal, speeding by the passing cars towards the night club.

“Can’t baby, I’m a bit busy,” I whisper softly, breath hitched from the sudden feel of the guy’s hand on my ass. As he leaves a trail of kisses on my exposed collarbone I bite down on my lip, until a small moan escapes my mouth.

“Y/n, who is that?” Jungkook growls at the sound coming from his phone. One that is too familiar for his liking as his imagination runs wild, connecting the dots regarding the context of the situation. Closing his eyes for a moment, he can picture your form in a tight dress that pushes your cleavage up with your hair laid perfectly over your shoulders. Just the way he likes it. Fuck, he thinks to himself.

“Sorry, I have to go,” I yelp, dropping the phone on the floor as my hands now rest on his chest. Lifting my fatigued body onto the countertop, my legs naturally wrap around his torso. It hurts to do this to Jungkook but damn, does he deserve it. It’s time he finally gets a taste of his own medicine.

- -

Jungkook’s POV

Turning off the engine, I rush towards the entrance of the club passing by half-naked women who clearly had way too much fun. As one of them stops in front of me, I look around the crowded place trying to spot y/n in the neon lights.

“Dance with me, pretty boy,” she says, placing her hands on my jean jacket as her shivering body leans closer to mine. She’s young. Too young. No amount of makeup can cover up those naive eyes.

“Sorry love, I’m here for my own drunkhead,” I say with a wink, before noticing Jinni dozed off in the lounge area. Pushing past the wave of people, the smell of alcohol in their system can be detected from two blocks away.

“Jinni! Jinni, wake up. Where’s y/n??” I yell through the blaring music, slightly moving her shoulders in hopes that it’ll wake her up. How does one even fall asleep when Nicki Minaj’s ‘Super Bass’ is basically shouting at you? Nonetheless, I try to catch her attention as our eyes finally lock.

“Jungkooook, I’m sorryyy. I told y/n to stop drinking but she wouldn’t listen. I swear, I turned my head for one second and then boom, she was gone,” Jinni cries out, covering her flushed face in her palms before looking up at my concerned expression.

“That’s ok Jinni, just stay here I’m gonna look for her,” I say calmly, putting my jacket over her exposed legs before heading back towards the dance floor. Where could y/n be? Dialing her phone number the signal goes straight to voicemail. Shit.

It’s been about 10 minutes and I swear I’ve been going in circles. I’d already mistaken four different girls for y/n, yet she is still nowhere to be found, that is until I saw the barely lit restroom sign at the back of the club. Wouldn’t hurt to check, right?

Walking past the men’s restroom I’m certain that y/n was sober enough to recognize the difference between the two. So, I take a deep breath before knocking on the door. No answer. I mean what was I expecting? She is probably passed out on the toilet or something. Placing a few more knocks, this time with more power, I’m interrupted by a series of soft moans. I might have lost half of my hearing since I got here, but her pretty voice, yeah … I can recognize it anywhere. Pushing the door open, my eyes focus on her heaving chest as some dumbass tightens his grip on her waist.

“Get the fuck off of her!” I growl, pushing him to the wall as my fist meets his face. Three punches in and his nose began to bleed before y/n stepped in front of me. Eyes locked on my tense face, she places her hands on my burning chest, begging me to stop as my vision gets blurry.

“Jungkook please,” she cries out, pulling my arms towards her chest to prevent another hit. Gaze focused on her teary eyes, I let out a deep sigh, tilting my head as an indication for the guy to leave. Which he does immediately.

“Y/n, what are you doing having stranger’s hands all over you?” I yell out, a bit too harshly than I wanted to. But I couldn’t help it. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat as she suddenly dropped my arms, wiping the tears off of her face.

“No better than being touched by a cheater, right?” she scoffs, shaking her head at my remark.

“How many times do you want me to apologize? What else do you want me to do? Do you want me to beg for you? I can beg for you,” I whisper into her ear, nibbling on the soft skin before getting on my knees. Looking up at her darkened eyes, I pull her body closer before tracing small circles on her soft skin. Moving her leg over my shoulder I begin to place a trail of soft kisses up her shivering limb, gaze focused on her whimpering pretty face. Each kiss was followed by a sinful plea.

“That’s it, baby, just relax,”

Previous l Next

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idyllic-affections · 1 year

Text

dad!pantalone ii.

summary. the eighth and ninth both adore [name].

trigger & content warnings. slight angst (but only if you squint), fire & accidentally lighting a harbinger on fire. no-one gets seriously hurt though.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, slight angst. pantalons & child!reader, la signora & child!reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns used for reader. < previous | next >

author's thoughts. i sort of implied where in genshin's timeline we are in this post; collei is implied to be present as one of dottore's subjects and is suggested to be around [name]'s age!! so yk, several years before the traveler appears in mond.

without a doubt, pantalone absolutely adores his child. for them, he would tear down teyvat in its entirety.

he's completely enamored with them. he's always spoiling them; his love language is gift-giving, after all, especially in their case. he has the mora to spare. what else would he use it on? funding dottore's experiments? pfft, please. he'd rather spend it on his lovely child!! it's his money, he can do what he wants as long as it doesn't noticeably affect the fatui's funding. additionally, he finds himself cherishing physical touch just as much as he does gift-giving—the fatui agents in his division claim that he's generally less irritable if he has his child in his arms while he's working.

of course, pantalone can't always have them around. he doesn't want them to be too deeply involved in his fatui work... not yet, anyway. it'll be a different story when they're a little older. personally, he thinks they'd make a very impressive fatui debt collector one day; everyone's already terrified of upsetting them. if they became a debt collector, such fear would increase tenfold. they'll end up joining the fatui one day regardless, so why not as a debt collector?

for the most part, he doesn't trust anyone to watch them, not even his own business partner. what fool would trust il dottore with a child? not pantalone, that's for certain, especially since this particular child is his heir, his flesh and blood. the regrator knows about what the doctor is doing to that little girl with eleazar. archons forbid that kind of treatment was directed at his gem. dottore and all of his segments know damn well not to bring any kind of harm to them, but still. the ninth would rather not leave them with the second unless it was absolutely necessary.

he settles on enlisting the help of la signora.

as arrogant and cunning she is—what harbinger isn't, really?—the regrator knows very well how fond she is of his child. he's not blind to her blatant affections towards them.

(little did he know, sometimes she wonders if this is the child she never got to raise with her lover gifted to her by the heavens above. signora knows better, but the thought is comforting. she even shared her name with them. such a sweet little one shouldn't be calling her a name like la signora.

the first time they called her 'mother rosalyne,' she may or may not have shed a few tears, knowing very well that their mother seemed to have disappeared off the face of teyvat after leaving their newborn self with pantalone. 'they don't have a mother,' she thought to herself one day, 'so I will gladly take up that role. no harm shall come to them for as long as I live.')

he has little issue leaving them alone with her, as they also seem quite fond of the woman.

one day, she suggests teaching them to harness pyro based on the old art she learned at the akademiya. no need for a vision, she insisted—all they need is patience. she expected him to reject the idea, but to her surprise and delight, he gave her permission to do so as long as she doesn't forget that they will be making public appearances in noble society soon enough. as such, they do need to have some restraint. she gladly agrees to his terms.

signora quickly discovers that they are a very fast learner. they take her lessons very well. what a smart little one they are! she thinks it's very funny when they accidentally light the balladeer's coat on fire. he was not happy. the fair lady, however, found it absolutely fucking hysterical. she praised them in secret for it!

"you are very, very important," she had said, "there are very few people on teyvat that could hurt you and get away with it. the balladeer is not one of those people, so by all means, light him on fire again, my little flame <3"

she is creating a firey (literally and metaphorically...) little noble. pantalone doesn't really mind.

they are very important, indeed, and if la signora is encouraging that ideology, then he doesn't care whose coats he will need to replace.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion brainrots 🌸#la signora x reader #platonic la signora x reader #pantalone x reader #pantalone x child reader #fatui x reader #genshin imagines #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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stevie-petey · 5 months

Note

hiya m! hope all is well and ur doing good with school stuff. do u maube want to do something from nancy's pov? specifically about maybe her feelings on r and johnathan's closeness and how she feels a little like she's intruding/unsure if she's stepping on toes, or maybe even how close r and steve are (though i don't think she suspects or makes anything of it at this point but i'm not sure). just something about her thoughts on r and her closeness with one of the boys would be so very delicious <3

hi my dear !! im doin well and have no pressing assignments today so <3 we rock n roll. ur blurb is fantastic and i hope i did justice to nancys character shes an intimidating person to write tbh

enjoy !

“how long until they finally get together?” barb asks nancy, the two of them watching as you and jonathan walk towards your locker.

“jonathan and y/n?” nancy closes her locker. “i dont know, havent really paid attention to them.”

barb pokes her with the tip of her pen. “liar, arent they always hanging out with your brother?”

“mikes life is none of my business.”

“fair, but c’mon. you seriously cant be telling me that you dont think jonathan and y/n will get together soon.”

nancy doesnt say anything, hoping that if she doesnt respond then barb will drop the subject, but she knows she has a point. nancy had been lying before, she does pay attention to you two.

not in a creepy or judgmental way, but of course shes paid attention to you and jonathan. how could she not? the two of you were like this inseparable pair of endearing grandparents. always bickering and yet always holding each others hands through it all.

nancy thinks its sweet, in a way. to have someone care about a person so much and with such devotion. to be taken care of. it was obvious, even to nancy, that the two of you really loved each other.

its also why she kept her distance from you two, though. nancy felt like there was never any room in your little planet together, but she didnt mind. she had barb, steve harrington winked at her last week; she was doing fine.

but when nancy began hanging around you and jonathan because barb went missing, she started to fear that there really was no room for her on the planet you guys inhabited. she always felt three steps behind in the conversations with you and jonathan. the two of you had long perfected an unspoken language and nancy was helpless in deciphering it.

but she had to push down the uncertainty to find barb. thats all nancy cared about, even if sometimes jonathan looked at her like she was someone other than perfect nancy wheeler. like he was interested in her intelligence rather than her beauty.

it was nice. really nice.

no one had ever taken her seriously before.

but then nancy would see you in the background, hovering over jonathans shoulder as you always have done, and she’d feel like shit afterwards.

nancy knows you love jonathan, and the way he looks at you when you arent looking at him, she cant deny that he loves you, too.

what she cant figure out, however, is the capacity of love between you and him. despite days of being around you two, seeing all your interactions and small gestures and nicknames and adoration between you, nancy cant figure out if its romantic or something else.

and after watching you and jonathan for a few days, nancy concludes that you guys dont seem to know whats between you either. theres a thin line that hangs over you and jonathan. a thread of almost thats so precariously thin.

and nancy doesnt want to be the one that severs it.

so when she gets paired with you in the shed that night at the school to find will and barb, nancy takes her only opportunity to reassure you that shes not a threat. nancy isnt an idiot, shes seen the way you look at her after jonathan has done something kind towards her.

“i dont want to intrude.” nancy tells you, with all the sincerity and truth she can offer. she really, truly doesnt want to step over the line with jonathan. she understands that hes yours and youre his in a way that she may not ever fully know. but she still respects it.

nancy wants to be your friend.

but she also wants jonathans understanding of her, too.

its a dangerous and blurry and confusing thing.

and sometimes nancy is terrified she’ll fuck it up, hurt everyone in the process, but shes also been perfect her entire life.

nancy wheeler understands that selfishness is not inherently wrong, but every time shes selfish, the people she loves the most get hurt.

thats one thing barb taught her.

nancy refuses to hurt anyone else, especially someone as selfless as you, as genuine as jonathan, and as sincere as steve.

none of you deserve it, so nancy bites her tongue and goes to parties and makes sure to always leave a few inches of space between her and jonathan.

anything to keep everyone afloat.

#ask #procrastinationprincesses #come home blurb #m’s writing #m speaks #set throughout seasons 1 and 2 #does this make sense ?????#nancy is such an interesting character

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melonteee · 7 months

Note

on the point of sanji's "pervness", I'm in middle of dressrosa and his interaction with Viola couldn't better demonstrate you said in your previous ask! Before Viola's "evil reveal," he kept saying that he has fallen in love in his internal monologue, but he literally never advanced! He doesn't grab Viola's hand even though he really really wanted to; and when they arrived at the warehouse Sanji says out loud that he's Viola's "bodyguard", like this man really doesn't want to take any advantages and would constantly lower himself in front of women T_T

And he is so good at empathizing with women too like even after Viola had revealed herself to be on Doffy's side and their identities had been recontexualized as Doffy's Family member vs Straw Hats, he still treated Viola based off of his experience with her and took serious of her emotion — his emotional efficacy is so acute that it cut off the strings of fear that are controlling her! Viola, at the moment, was just like Riku King on that disastrous night, manipulated by Doffy's threads to commit violent acts against their will, and couldn't help but cry. However, whereas the people (reasonably!!) were blinded by the violence and couldn't see Riku King's tears; Sanji, despite being ostensibly betrayed and hurt, took her "act" seriously and found out the truth that's hidden in the plain sight. Because he genuinely cares! HE CARES GAHHHH...!!! Like he is so good at empathizing with people! If I recall correctly he is also the first one who observed Law's distress when he asked Law why he seems so hung up on Doffy....... HIM..........

I'm sorry for such a long ask I just feel a lot about this man UGHHHHHHEJDHSKJFKE

YOU ARE ABSOUTELY RIGHT!! 👆👆👆

Sanji WAS the first person to notice Law's obsession with Doflamingo, and he was the first one to ask Law WHY he's so hung up on Doffy. But of course, he didn't mean this as negative towards Law! He was just genuinely curious what the Strawhats and Law were fighting for at that point!

Sanji was also so, soooo cute with Viola. He was so sweet to her, he trusted her completely, and he never hated nor looked down on her while she was beating him up. In fact, the only thing he specifically wanted to do with Viola...WAS HOLD HER HAND??!! Because she held his hand to run away with him, and when she let him go, HE WAS REALLY SAD 😭😭 AND HE JUST WANTED TO KEEP HOLDING HANDS 😭😭 and Viola thought that was so cute she took his hand again.

Sanji is just...he's just so cute fdjghd he's ANNOYING but he's a wet little thing otherwise

#ask #melonask

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shaunamilfman · 7 months

Text

Ghostface!Shauna drabble

The hold that Ghostface had on Wiskayok was undeniable. The very mention of her name struck fear into everyone you knew. How could it not? Ghostface seemed to be unstoppable, and nothing the police did seemed to slow her down any.

You weren't sure what to think about Ghostface yourself. You knew she had been the perpetrator of some of the most violent murders to ever grace the town of Wiskayok, but you had had some… Interesting interactions with her yourself.

You'd nearly played victim to Ghostface in several different chases, but she always seemed to disappear just as he would have caught up with you. You knew you couldn't honestly out run her, no one could after all. Her immense speed is what made her such a dangerous killer; No one lived after she decided to kill them, no one but you.

it didn't quite make sense to you, but you had an odd feeling that she was letting you escape. almost as if the pleasure was in chasing you and terrorizing you, and not in the act of killing you itself. you had gotten particularly brave, you'd admit, after several of these encounters.

…

As she chases you through your house you finally have enough of it and turn to sock her right in the jaw, sending her sprawling out on the kitchen floor in a daze. You dive for the knife she dropped on the floor and just manage to get your fingers around it before she snaps himself out of it. She reaches for the knife but you knock her hand away and manage to straddle her as you hold the knife up to her throat.

You slowly pull the mask over her head with your other hand only to be met by the sight of your sweet and doting girlfriend staring up at you in a mix of awe and hunger.

“It was you?” You ask softly in disbelief, in a voice so quiet you might as well have just thought it. Louder you repeat, “You were the one that's been doing this to me this entire time?” You stare down at her with an undeniably hurt expression, the betrayal stinging harder than anything you've ever felt before.

Shauna was your rock, she was your person. You dreamt of a quiet life spent married to her. She'd spent many a night comforting you as you sobbed over what she apparently had been doing to you all along. Your grip on the knife tightens as your mind runs wildly through your memories, trying to piece together these two sides of her.

“Hey, hey. No no no no.” She says panickedly. She's using the same tone she uses when she realizes she's fucked up, like the time she'd forgotten your birthday and tried desperately to convince you otherwise. You stare down at her in utter disbelief; She wasn't even going to take this seriously?

“I Love you. I would never hurt you” She promises. “Always stopped before I caught you, you know that.” You watch her silently, unsure how to even begin. You begin to hear the faint sounds of police sirens in the distance, obviously her little escapade hadn't gone entirely unnoticed by your neighbors.

Your fingers tighten around the handle of the knife as you bring it closer to her neck, blood welling around the edge of it as you cut her shallowly. You bring the knife away and drop it next to her. “You should go.” You say finally. “Before they get here.”

She nods wildly with wide eyes and a manic grin. She grabs the knife and stands up in one fluid motion. She rushed forward to press a gentle kiss against your lips then slips the mask on as she vaults back out the window. You open the door for the police a few minutes later, no worse for wear.

…

You walk into school the next day with Lottie hanging off of your arm, listening carefully to your every word. She'd been your closest friend for years and you'd started leaning heavily on her for support since the whole thing started. You see Shauna standing by your locker waiting for you. The second she sees you she grins widely and shyly waves at you. Lottie watches the interaction carefully and turns to you.

“Y/N,” She whispers. “Look at her jaw. You said you punched him in the jaw before you got away right? She has a bruise.” You look back at Shauna. She was, in fact, sporting quite a large bruise across her face. The corners of your lips quirk smugly, glad to have gotten her back for once.

“No.” You murmur softly. “It was definitely the other side. Shauna probably just got into another fight.” Lottie nods slowly.

“If you're sure.” She says finally, not sure if she believes you or not.

You squeeze her hand in goodbye and separate to walk over to Shauna. “Hey,” She says softly, reaching a hand up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face. “You look pretty today.”

“You look like someone beat the shit out of you.” You say bluntly. She gives you a wry grin, face twitching in pain as it pulls at her jaw. She still looks gorgeous, even like this. Especially like this, honestly. It wasn't fair.

She leans against your shoulder and says quietly into your ear. “She did. I deserved it though.” You nod in agreement. “It was really hot though.” She adds as she pulls away.

You reach forward to cup a hand under her chin. You press your thumb gently into the bruise on her face and she groans quietly in pain. “Okay.” You say, leaning in to kiss her.

You pull back after a long moment. “I can work with this.” You say softly against her lips, causing her to grin in response. She puts her hands against your hips and pulls you closer against her.

…

You smile as you hear the sound of knuckles rapping against your window. You rush over to open it, pulling under Shauna's arms to get her in faster. She laughs up at you from the floor after you pull just a little too hard. She stands up quickly and rests her hands on the sides of your face as she pulls you in for a kiss. You groan exaggeratedly as she pulls back, holding her hand up between the two of you.

You glance pointedly at her blood soaked hands, already imagining what they've done to your face. You sigh in exasperation as she grins proudly at you. “You look good covered in blood.” She says with a shrug.

#yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x reader #shauna shipman x reader

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shadamyheadcanons · 10 months

Note

Been thinking a lot about this and wanted your thoughts. Isn't it strange the only character shown to not be openly afraid or judgemental of Shadow is Amy? I think the only one that comes close to that is Rouge but even then

A lot of characters are easily intimidated, scared of, not trustful or even judgey of Shadow a lot of the time. Which given some past actions and his general vibe is understandable but it never seems to apply to Amy

Even when she mistook him for Sonic she wasn't immediately scared afterwards just confused and later encourages him to save the world because she believes that he is a good person deep down. It's especially prominent in the Sonic takeover video, like when it's revealed that both Shadow and Amy enjoy Taylor Swift?

Sonic is surprised that Shadow the Edgy boy likes a pop artist and treats is a semi big deal. Amy meanwhile is just happy they have something in common, not even a 'oh that's surprising coming from you', just general happy they share similar music tastes

I might be thinking too deeply into it but it occurred to me that Amy never treats Shadow as someone to be scared of and treats him as no different from anyone else right from the start.

Tbh, I don’t think it’s strange at all. It’s standard Amy behavior. Metal Sonic is a scary robot who kidnapped her as a kid, but she still helped him without hesitation in that Sonic Mania short, even after he startled her. Gamma was an armed robot who was keeping her in a cell, but she didn’t show any fear toward him; she stood up to him to protect a Flicky, then befriended him immediately. She saw Silver nearly murder Sonic with incredible powers she’d never encountered before, and she still jumped in front of him to protect Sonic anyway. The werehog was big and scary, but not only did she accept Sonic in that form, she hugged the werehog the first time she saw him and showed no discomfort about it, merely expressing confusion at having hugged the wrong person even though she actually got it right that time.

She just doesn’t see anyone as a monster. And while that’s wonderful and wholesome, it’s a little worrisome, too. Rouge likes and trusts Shadow, but I don’t think she’s unaware of the extensive damage he could do. Omega probably feels the same way. That’s the wise way of looking at it.

But Amy? It’s not just her faith in the goodness of others, it’s straight-up naiveté. Her upbringing was rife with violence, kidnapping, danger, and death, and now she doesn’t know what’s normal. This is the same girl who somehow waltzed onto Prison Island with the intention of casually rescuing Sonic from a high-security prison by herself. If Tails hadn’t shown up, she easily could’ve died! She’s honestly lucky she’s gotten this far without being seriously injured or worse.

I’m sure Shadow loves that she doesn’t fear him and truly values her for that, even if he doesn’t say so, but he’d worry about her, too. I can picture him thinking, “She clearly has no sense of self-preservation. I’ll have to look after her to make sure nothing happens.” Maybe he already does. It could figure into their interactions at Cryptic Castle in ShTH. This sweet girl takes one look at him, of all people, as terrifying as he knows he is--on the darkest story routes you can take, no less--and she says, “Friend? :D” before running off alone into a dangerous, haunted castle to save a child and a Chao. So he follows her. Because she clearly doesn’t know how to stay safe. And she’d be safer by his side than pretty much anyone else’s not only because he’s as strong as you can get in this universe, but because he’ll go farther than anyone else to protect the ones he loves. He knows how it feels to lose someone important, and he won’t let it happen again. It’s time someone put Amy first!

Still can’t figure out how Sega made these two characters so perfect for each other *by accident.* Most movies I’ve seen can’t craft things so well even on purpose.

#ask #waituntilwinterr #not a headcanon #shadamy

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snorky · 4 months

Text

A (Dark) Knight In Shining Armor

Hey y’all! I apologize for the inactivity regarding my works being published, life has been hectic and all and so I hope you all are doing wonderful. I have a lot more story ideas brewing inside of my head, and so I hope you guys enjoy this one for now in the meantime, a Jake DeBrusk comfort filled with some angst, but of course, with soft sweetness and joy. Title is inspired by Batman's nickname "Dark Night", and perhaps that one JD wore a Batman costume. But in all seriousness, I hope you all enjoy this fic, and take care of yourself!

Pairing: Jake DeBrusk x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Angst, Abusive Relationships (not with Jake), Verbal Abuse, Breakup (not with Jake), (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

—

“Just get out of here! I don’t want to see your face or hear your voice right now.” His voice was harsh, words laced with hate.

Frozen in fear, she stood there, unsure of what to do under his hostile stare, burning at her skin. It was all too familiar, the shouting, the yelling, the tension tearing her heart into scraps on the cold kitchen floor.

He slammed his fist against the kitchen counter, shaking the dishes and cups. “I said get out!” Poison seemed to drip from his tongue, corroding the ground.

Tears welled in her eyes as he shouted, her heart slowly crumbling and falling, and hope dissipating, dissolving into nothingness. The tears never fell though, he would shout again, that irritating noise that only seemed to remind her why she felt resentment.

She couldn’t take it anymore, all the arguments leading to nowhere, all the small disagreements building up to a broken cathedral that could no longer be restored.

As she walked to the door, she grabbed her coat from the hook near the door, tension tight in her shoulders, almost ready to snap. She looked back, hopefully for the last time her heart told her, and saw him sitting down at the dinner table now, his head in his hands. Whether it was in anger or shame, oh she hoped it was shame, she didn’t want to stay a second longer to find out.

Reaching for the doorknob, she turned it quickly and left, locking it behind her as she did so. It was out of habit, a mindless action, but this time, it felt like there was an intent to make sure he couldn’t follow after her.

The rainy downpour of Boston greeted her, snow seemingly no longer existent during winter, and yet the icy chill was still colder than ever.

As she walked down the street, she tried to figure out a way to get home back to her apartment, which was unfortunately across the city. She hadn’t moved in with her boyfriend yet, but now she didn’t even want to any longer.

Pulling out her phone, she thought of calling her roommate to pick her up, but then she realized that her roommate was out of the state with family. She let out a huff of slight annoyance, or more of inconvenience at herself for forgetting about her roommate’s whereabouts.

Her mind raced as she quickly tried to scroll through her contacts list, searching for the one person she knew that would pick her up from anywhere, no matter the hour nor conditions outside.

The tone of the phone hummed as she waited for him to pick up, her hands slightly shaky due to the cold. She hoped, prayed that she wouldn’t be sent to his voicemail box, a no answer.

“Hello?” His groggy voice echoed through the phone, as if he had just been woken up. “Is everything alright? It’s pretty late in the night,”

Guilt swirled around inside of her, not only for waking him up from his sleep, but also in the fact that she wanted him to pick her up.

“Yeah, I’m alright…ish, listen I just need a favor from you, Jake,” she trailed off.

The sound of his bedsheets ruffling could be heard from him, most likely him sitting upright in the bed. “Are you out in the rain right now? Do you need me to pick you up?”

“Yes please.” A sense of relief washed over her. “Only if it’s not a hassle though—”

“It’s never a hassle. Your safety matters.”

She could hear the sound of his keys being picked up from, what she assumed was, his bedside table, followed by his footsteps down the hall.

“Where are you by the way?”

Looking up from her phone, rather nervously, she observed her surroundings, which was slightly difficult in the dark rain. “Just a block away from his condo, near the corner shop.”

The engine of his car seemed to rumble through the phone, defensive and almost angry. “Don’t hang up until I get to you, wanna make sure you’re safe,”

Tears started to form in her eyes as she heard him speak those words, knowing that he held true emotion and genuineness behind it. “Mhm.” Her voice wavered slightly, and she knew that he could recognize it, even through the phone.

It was something so simple for him, and yet it meant a lot to her, especially since it seemed like her boyfriend had hardly put any effort in recently.

She knew a relationship with two busy adults wouldn’t be constant attention and affection, but it seemed like as of late, he’d hardly acknowledge her feelings and thoughts, just another person he knew.

Her vase in her kitchen remained empty, flowerless. Time to her was hardly given, delivered texts, no response, radio silence. And yet, he would lash out at her with foul curses if she damned herself to respond a little later than she could, few hours at most.

As she was lost in thought, the sound of a car pulled up in front of her, the raindrops pelting the hood of the car almost like hailstones.

“Get in!”

Through the phone, she could hear his giggle, which in turn, caused a small smile to appear on her face as she opened the car door, sliding into the passenger side. It seemed to lighten the mood, but only just a bit.

Ending the call on her phone, she stuck it into her pocket and put on her seatbelt. “Damn, DeBrusk, take it easy,” she let out a small laugh, just before the feeling of emptiness sunk inside of her, reality seeping in.

The rain seemed to continue endlessly as he drove, tapping on the car’s windows, reminding her of the long road trips she took when she was younger, seemingly more free. But instead of banter and laughter, silence filled the air, no radio-top-forty-hits playing, no conversation, nothing.

It was odd, looking over at Jake and seeing him so, tense, hands gripping the wheel rather tightly, completely different from the energy that seemed to be only moments ago.

“Did he hurt you?” The suddenness of his voice breaking the silence made her jolt in her seat slightly, in which he let out a small apology for.

“No.” Her words came out rather defensive without the intention to, but she quickly tried to clear up any possible assumptions. “All he did was yell at me,” she whispered, not wanting to think about it for too long.

“That’s not any better though.” He let out a sigh, his worry not easing by the minute, evident in the tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel. “He needs to treat you better, you deserve better,”

“Sorry,” she said quietly, head bowed down shamefully.

He glanced over at her as they stopped at a red light, just noticing how really disheveled she was. “It’s not your fault.” She looked up at him, hoping that he really meant it. “It never was your fault,” he whispered, delicately.

The gentleness that he held, offered purely raw straight from his heart, seemed to captivate her, entrance her, lull her into a sense of safety that she was hardly familiar with.

And just then, the traffic light switched to green, much too soon, and they began getting closer and closer to her apartment, buildings nearby becoming more and more recognizable.

It seemed as if Jake knew this route by heart, each turn and curve of the road, every traffic signal and exit, and he did. Boston felt like a second home to him, and even more so when he was with his best friend, with her.

A short while passed, and he stopped his car at the front of her apartment, which, fortunately for him, was only a few blocks away from his.

Rain continued to tap against his windows, more gentle than before, and they both sat there in silence, attempting to soak in the calmness. However, it was still evident that he was tense when she looked over at him, observing his tense shoulders, unrelaxed posture.

“Thank you so much for picking me up, Jake.”

He looked over to her, snapping out of his lost gaze to nothingness. “You’re welcome, always.” His voice seemed to be filled with some sort of uncertainness.

She picked up her bag, pulling out her keys to unlock her door. “I’ll head in now, and I’m sorry for holding you up and calling so late.”

“It’s never too late, I promise you,” he said, holding up his pinky. She held her own up, and locked hers around his.

Smiling at him sweetly, tears slowly formed at the corner of her eyes again. “Thank you, again.” Her voice seemed to crack ever so slightly.

He nodded and smiled back, just as sweet, “You’re always welcome, whenever, wherever.”

Reaching her hand to the handle, she gave him another smile as she looked back at him, his eyes soft with warmth, and yet she could sense that he was worried about her, never at ease as of late.

When she opened the car door, the rain could be heard pouring heavily, drops splattering on the concrete ground rapidly. She left quickly, closing the car door as she ran to her front steps, puddles splashing beneath her feet.

When she looked back just before she went inside, out of habit, he was still there, sitting in his car.

His window rolled down, and his voice could be heard. “Get inside! I’m not going until you’re in!”

Giving him a quick nod in response, she unlocked her door, and moved herself inside, the warm air welcoming her, a contrast to the wet, rainy outside.

After she closed the door behind her, she hung her coat on a hook nearby, along with her keys and bag. Sleepiness crawled up on her as she lay down on her couch, hoping to rest her eyes for a brief moment.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, a message from Jake popping up on her screen.

You’re safe, right? - Jakey

Yes I am

Thank you so much once again, get home safe

No prob :) - Jakey

Exhaustion made it difficult for her to stay awake for longer, eyelids feeling heavier with each blink, and so she moved herself from the living room to her bedroom, falling asleep as soon as she hit the bed.

Sunlight crept into her room when morning came, and her bed felt cozier than ever. The blankets were just as soft and warm as a hug, never wanting to let go from it, and her limbs remained cozily entangled under the covers.

She continued to lay there for a bit, soaking up all the beaming sunlight that poured into her room. It was quiet and still, aside from the usual Boston traffic outside in the street, and her thoughts were still slightly fuzzy having just woken up.

Memories of the night before started to linger on her mind, the argument, leaving his place, being picked up by Jake, it all seemed so frantic and rapid with no clear timeline.

Hours had passed after she had gotten ready, and she was sitting in a coffee shop awaiting his arrival.

She didn’t want to have it come to this, a sudden ending for her relationship, but it felt like it had been gone for a long time now. The relationship felt like a shell of what it was, and there was no longer devotion to something that wouldn’t devote back, a lack of effort and care that tasted bitter with each passive remark she heard.

The little bell above the coffee shop door chimed, and without even looking up from her drink, she could tell that he was there. It became a sixth sense to her, the feeling of unease and tension rising in her when he was nearby.

He sat down across from her, calling out her name like it was a curse on his tongue.

“Hello?” He waved his hand in front of her. “Jeez, are you still tired?” He scoffed. His passive aggressive remarks were all too familiar to her.

Blinking at him, she returned her focus. “Sorry, no.” She let out a light laugh, nervousness evident. “But there is something I want to talk about,”

He looked at her with a glare that could only be described as intimidating, but she knew better than to show that it was working. She was safe here, he couldn’t shout or yell at her out in public like this.

“I think that it would be the best for the both of us to part ways,” she spoke smoothly, despite her hands fiddling with her drink. “After last night—”

Last night. Cold. Dark. Unforgiving even.

“I realized that we both need some time and space to grow,” she continued.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she was unsure of what to say now, having said all she needed to say.

“What do you mean?” His tone was harsh, a cousin to the one from the previous night, reminding her of it.

“I mean that we need to break up.” It sounded a lot more blunt when she said it out loud, but it was the truth. “I have nothing against you though—”

She was quickly cut off by the sound of his chair being pushed into the table aggressively as he walked towards the door, a few people’s heads perking up and trying to see what the commotion was.

Her face heated up in slight embarrassment as she sipped her drink, eyes of the others peering at her, awaiting for a reaction, but she stayed put in her seat.

The days from then on seemed to pass by like a blur, fuzzy and faded, but eventually, the days became clearer, the sun shining brighter than before. She felt a sense of freedom, having blocked all of his contacts and any form of communication, and she could finally breathe.

Her friends, Jake specifically, noticed that her eyes seemed to shine brighter, her smile more vibrant, and her laugh more pure, even in the darkest of rooms.

Their friends were all at a restaurant in downtown Boston together, catching up on old and new times over food and drinks, talking about whatever they could before they had to depart, going back to their own lives.

She was sitting next to Jake, his arm slung on the back of the seat behind her as they talked to their friends together. Warmth seemed to radiate from him, a contrast to the chilly evening air, and so she leaned towards him a bit.

He looked at her, noticing her shifting closer to him. “You cold?”

“Just slightly, it’s alright though—”

Taking off his jacket, he draped it over her shoulders, the thick material blocking out most of the cold air.

A few of their friends at the table gave them a knowing look, a soft flush appearing on his neck and cheeks as he kept her close to him.

As the night went on, the group began to wind down, a few friends leaving with hugs and well wishes at a time. The restaurant began to empty, and so the ambiance was much more serene and peaceful.

When she looked up at him, the soft glow of the overhead lighting seemed to shine perfectly on his face, emphasizing his gentle scruff and soft eyes.

He looked at her, noticing how drowsy she seemed.

“Should we head home?”

The words came out of his mouth so smoothly, she would’ve assumed that he meant just his place, but she knew that by the end of the night, she would be asleep in her own bed.

“Yeah, that’d be good,” she hummed.

They both got up from the table and headed out the restaurant shortly after he gave a tip to the wait staff, the cold air greeting them as they walked to his car.

He opened the passenger side door for her, a simple gesture that seemed to make her face warm up in a soft blush, butterflies starting to form in her stomach.

“Thank you, Jake,” she said, smiling softly.

He smiled back at her, so gently it seemed, “My pleasure,”

All of his affectionate actions, words, gestures, it all seemed to come naturally to him tonight, like cupid had made the stars align for him.

Once he got into the driver’s side of the car, he started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, the streetlamps and city lights passing by as he drove the both of them down the road.

An idea sparked in his mind, something slightly different than a normal trip back home. “You don’t mind if we take a longer route to get home right?” He glanced over at her, searching for a response in her facial expression.

She remained calm, soft, the feeling of being safe when with him more prominent than ever. “I don’t mind at all,”

He smiled at her words, a warm feeling bubbling in his chest.

“I wouldn’t mind spending the entire night with you ya’know?” she quietly added, eyes focused on the twinkling lights out on the streets.

Her words made him slightly awestruck, leaving him without a proper response to her. His face started to have a slight rosy tint again, a soft blush dusted on his cheeks.

“Yeah,” he spoke quietly, clearing his throat. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

They both continued to drive down the road, almost empty, but usual for how late it was, and headed off an exit towards their neighborhood.

As they headed towards one of the tunnels, he looked over at her again, admiring her for a quick moment before speaking. “Is it okay if I go a little fast?”

She smiled as she let out a slight chuckle, taking note of how sweet it was of him to ask if he could go faster than normal on the road. “It’s more than okay, I trust you,”

He took her permission with a smirk, the car accelerating a little faster as he stepped on the gas. “Thank you, princess,” he said, almost in a half-joking-half-serious manner. “Enjoy the ride.”

Her face heated up at the nickname, a silly one, but it seemed fitting for how well he was treating her. It was all that she ever wanted, to be treated with some respect, and Jake went above and beyond with it. He seemed so perfect, and it felt almost silly how she hadn’t noticed it.

She was quickly brought back to her senses, pulled away from her dreamy state when the car’s engine roared beneath the both of them as they drove through the tunnel. The lights passed by one by one quickly, like shooting stars in the dark tunnel.

It felt so surreal, nostalgic even, the speed of the car mirroring a lost memory of being on a roller coaster, the fuzzy lights oh so similar to the carnival lights.

After what seemed like an hour of reminiscing, the car exited the tunnel, the familiar city lights came back into view, and the dark night sky could be seen again. He slowed down the car slightly, settling down to a reasonable speed.

Silence hung in the air comfortably, peaceful and calm as they drove down the road. She liked it like this, the both of them not needing to speak a word to make things comfortable, and it was much different than the noisy, chaotic life she was familiar with.

“Are you alright?” he asked, looking over at her as he pulled to a stop at an intersection.

She smiled, a warm, soft smile that was filled with happiness, and nothing less. “I’m more than alright,”

Her voice was sweet and gentle, making him melt instantaneously, his heart and mind clouding with a fuzzy feeling that he could only think was love. He realized that ever since he knew her, his world was seen through heart-shaped glasses, just for her, and no one else.

“You’re so beautiful.” The words slipped past his lips before he realized, and he sat there frozen in fear. He hoped that she hadn’t heard him, but her ears heard it all.

She thought her mind was playing tricks on her, the late night combined with the fading adrenaline. “Jake,” she paused for a brief moment. “What?”

He could downplay it and shrug it off like he hadn’t said anything important, but that would leave her confused, and he never wanted her to be confused by his words. The other option was to fully admit his feelings, the ones that have been slowly growing ever since he met her.

“You’re so beautiful, so so beautiful.”

She looked at him with slight fear in her eyes, unsure whether or not he was lying. But all she saw was the truth, the vulnerability that he held right in that moment. He revealed his heart and soul to her, raw and in his hands, handing it to her.

There was no need to keep her guard up now, she was safe, with him, the one that she could always rely on, the one that picked her up in the rain in the darkest hours of the night.

The soft, glowing red light seemed to shine on his face like moonlight passing through stained glass, making him look angelic, ethereal. His dark t-shirt seemed to hug him nicely, chain necklace glimmering as the light shined on it.

Time seemed to tick slowly, sugary molasses straight from the jug. Her eyes savored all of him, his darkingly handsome look, strong, and yet gentle attitude.

“You’re breathtaking Jake,” she whispered.

It was the perfect fairytale moment that she’d been dreaming about, but with Jake, it made it all the more warm, even if she didn’t recognize it.

A loud car horn from behind them honked loudly, snapping them both out of the dreamy, fairytale state they seemed to have been locked in.

He let out a chuckle before continuing to drive, a smile scrawled on his face.

“Sorry about that car behind us, didn’t know others would be driving at around midnight in Boston.”

“It’s okay,” she laughed with him.

Smiling, they both drove to her home in comfortable silence, spirit high in joy and soft tenderness, something that she would be willing to grow familiar with in the future.

“I really enjoyed the night with you,” she said quietly, the comfortable silence being replaced with her voice, which Jake still found comforting.

“I enjoyed it as well,” he sighed softly. “You know—” he paused as he adjusted his hand on the steering wheel. “I enjoy seeing you smile more, and laugh too,”

She gave him a gentle look, full of warmth and curiosity. He never seemed to express any lovey feelings, even more so, any lovey feelings towards her, and yet she wanted more of it, just like how he wanted more of her happiness.

#nhl #hockey #nhl hockey #nhl writing #nhl fic #boston bruins #hockey fic #hockey imagine #jake debrusk #jake debrusk x reader #jake debrusk imagine #boston bruins imagine

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