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multific · 5 months

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A Thousand Years

Astarion x Reader

Summary: Astarion tells a story of love.

"Tell me about your wife." said the man sitting in front of Astarion, the room was quiet around them, only the crackling of the fire could be heard.

Upon hearing the word, wife, Astarion's features softened.

"It might be a long one."

"I want to hear it." insisted the man as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for Astarion to start.

Astarion smiled, his eyes filled with love as he began.

"My wife... My beloved Y/N. She saved me you know, in more ways than one. She not only helped me kill the man who caused me so much pain and suffering, but she saved me from myself.

My beloved was a strong woman, brave and incredibly beautiful. She was a kind soul and yet, she could kill a thousand men without taking a break.

She loved songs and loved to dance. Although that might be because I was the one dancing with her. She often said she didn't wish to dance with anyone else but me.

She enjoyed sweets. But only the ones I have given her.

And even if I told her not, she kept on eating them.

It has been so long yet, I will never forget her laugh. She became my world. You know, it wasn't even intentional, I fell in love by accident. I was only meant to seduce her so she would help me kill Cazador. And yet I found myself in love.

But make no mistake, I never regretted the feelings I have. Not once. Falling in love with her was so easy.

I am quite privileged to be able to tell that she was my wife.

My... scars on my back, she cried when she first saw them. She hugged me and told me how sorry she was for I had to endure such pain. She kissed me and cried at the same time. I was so confused by it, I didn't know what to do.

But then, not long after, I asked her to marry me." Astarion looked at the gold band on his finger.

"I never believed in marriage, I thought it was silly for people to bind themselves to one another, and the symbol of it all... a simple ring. I laughed at the idea until I met the person I never wanted to let go of again. Suddenly I wanted nothing more but to have her bonded to me and for me to be bonded to her. I looked and searched for the perfect rings. Matching ones, but hers had a simple stone in the middle. A stone which was made of our blood. The perfect diamond, mixed with my and her blood. And then, we were married. Not like the words of others mattered to me, I would have been happy just to have her in my life, but to have her as my wife... it meant everything.

I will not bore you of the events directly after the wedding, leave it up for your imagination I suppose, but I can assure you, she was the first woman who could have me at her feet with a simple look.

And she always looked at me with so much love and care. She was always so gentle and lovely.

When people say love burns like fire, they lie, my love for her burns like lava, much like the core of the Earth. I was ready to destroy everything and everyone who would dare get between us. If I had to, I would have burnt down villages for her, for she was mine.

And not long after, she gave me the greatest gift.

A gift so precious.

I will never forget the look on her face when she told me, pure happiness.

She was with child.

Something I never even thought would be possible for me and yet there she was, getting more and more round with my child, with my son. Our son.

She was the sun for me. I have lived a long life in darkness and pain, and she made it all go away with a simple simple. I had a life of happiness thanks to her." Astarion leaned back in his chair once more when the noises from the kitchen stopped.

"STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'M DEAD!"

"I have never used the word 'dead', My Love." Astarion turned to look at you as you exited the kitchen.

"But you made it sound like I am." you pouted as Astarion looked at the ring on your finger, he smiled as you placed the food on the table. "Don't listen to him, Love, he is but an old romantic." you said as you sat down.

"I am very much aware, Mother. I just like to listen to him talk about you." admitted your son as he smiled at the two of you. Now a grown man, yet all you could see was him as a little boy running around the house, hair silver like his father's but eyes the same as yours.

"That's because I love your mother very much."

"I love you too." you replied as you all finally began to eat.

You two loved each other for a thousand years, and you will continue to love for another thousand to come.

Your son could only hope to find such love.

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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Barely ten minutes into the hike from Skull Rock to Lover’s Lake, Dustin heaves a sigh like he’s the most long suffering person in the world to ever exist. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, what?”

“I’m bored.”

“God, you’re such a whiner. No, you—you’re like a little kid on a road trip, like, are we there yet?”

Behind them, Max and Lucas snort in almost perfect unison.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Eddie’s lips twitch into the faint semblance of a smile. It’s very quick, blink and you miss it, before he turns sombre again, looking down at the forest floor. Steve can’t blame the guy; he can’t imagine that he has all that much to smile about.

“I just meant,” Dustin says, “that we could use some entertainment.” He jerks his head meaningfully at Eddie—who thankfully still has his head down so he can’t witness this tremendous lack of subtlety—and mouths, You know, a distraction.

“And I’m the entertainment guy,” Steve says flatly.

“Well, we’ve gotta keep you around for some reason,” Lucas pipes up.

Steve turns around, walks backwards so he can point warningly at him. “Thin ice, Sinclair.”

But it’s all for show, and he keeps walking backwards, pretends to trip on a tree root and narrowly avoid a pratfall. Max actually giggles at that, which is a victory in and of itself, but Eddie’s looking down at his feet.

Hmm.

“If I wanted slapstick, I would’ve called Charlie Chaplin,” Dustin says.

“He’s dead,” Max points out.

Dustin quickly draws a hand over his neck, Cut it out. Which—yeah, that’s fair. Don’t want the conversation straying into stuff that’s too close to… everything.

“So you want education instead?” Steve says. “I think I can remember how to identify, like, some trees and shit from—”

“Forget Lover’s Lake,” Dustin says, “I’m walking you straight into a retirement home.”

Steve opens his mouth, ready to play up his outrage, and then he hears a very soft chuckle from the side. Eddie.

Steve catches Dustin’s eye, winks briefly in reassurance. Nice work.

“Oh, sorry, is that not entertaining enough for you?” Steve turns so he’s front facing again, kicking a few stray twigs as he thinks. “Uh… ooh, did I tell you about the affair? At work?”

“Someone’s having an affair at Family Video?” Lucas says, sounding disgusted.

Max cackles. “The scandal! At a family establishment, no less.”

Dustin points at her. “See, this is why you should play D&D!” he says, annoyingly sing-song. “You’ve got a flair for words.”

“How about I stick my flair right up your—”

“Uh, okay,” Eddie interrupts suddenly. “I need details.”

Aha, Steve thinks, smug. Got you.

“Fire away, Munson.”

“Did someone, like, confess to you while you were ringing them up?”

Steve scoffs. “No, it was—” He cups his mouth, calls, “Hey, Rob?”

Up ahead, Robin and Nancy turn.

“What?”

“The affair shift.”

“Oh!” Robin whacks Nancy on the arm in her enthusiasm. “This is such a good one. Okay, so am I gonna be her or—?”

“No!” Steve says. “You’ve gotta be me, you can’t do her voice right.”

“Ugh, fine, fine. Wait, I need to get into character.”

Robin makes a show of ruffling her hair, and Steve doesn’t even roll his eyes, can only grin as he hears Eddie cough a much stronger laugh into his elbow.

“Nance, count us in,” Robin says.

Nancy looks a mixture of surprised and amused. It only takes a moment of hesitance before she mimes holding a slate, mouths counting down. “Action!”

And they’re off.

It’s probably so stupid, Steve thinks, to be this loud right now, but he can’t bring himself to care—not when he can hear raucous laughter from all directions: Robin captures his flustered, wide-eyed look, while he dramatically re-enacts a woman storming into the store, demanding to see her husband’s account.

And he thinks Eddie actually laughs the loudest when he gets to the reveal: that said account was full of romantic movies the married couple had never seen together.

“Not one,” Steve echoes—and not to brag, but with this delivery? Juilliard, eat your heart out. “Not. One!”

The kids dissolve into more giggles; Robin fights to stay in character as Nancy jokingly calls, “And, scene!”

And Eddie throws back his head, and laughs and laughs.

Happiness is a good look on him, Steve thinks.

They all quieten eventually, but a lightness in mood still remains, as the kids huddle off together—“Hey, shitheads, not too far!” Steve says, far from the first time—and Eddie sidles up, fleetingly knocks their shoulders together.

“Steve Harrington. Who would’ve thought it, huh?”

“Thought what?”

Steve glances over at him, suddenly struck by the fact that the sun will go down soon; and he doesn’t really need to know what Mordor is to know that he’d rather not get there. That he’d rather freeze time, so they could all just walk in the woods forever.

Eddie shrugs. “You’re a good storyteller.” His eyes are soft, like that isn’t all that he’s saying. Like he’s saying Thank you.

Steve shrugs back. “I’m a man of many talents,” he says.

Eddie chuckles, and this time his smile doesn’t fade away.

Steve allows himself a moment or two to admire the scenery, and if that means looking less at the way the sun still shines through the gaps in the branches, and more the way that it illuminates Eddie’s lingering smile, well…

Well, so what?

Right now, we’re happy, Steve finds himself thinking.

They can stay in the Shire for a little while longer.

#oh missing scenes how i love you ❤️#steddie #steddie ficlet #pre steddie #steve and the party #steve and dustin #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #let steve be silly and have fun agenda <3 #steve and robin

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blingblong55 · 3 months

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Happiness-Simon "Ghost" Riley

photo credits: @ave661

Part 1

---- F!Reader, angst, divorce, ex-husband!Simon, dad!Simon, happy ending ----

A/N: I owe it to heal you so...here it is, second/final part

It's been two years. Two years of missing his laugh, the warm blanket he would cover you in, the little whispers when he was sick and you were there to baby him. If you see him pass his new girlfriend, you see yourself kissing him. Does she whisper sweet nothings when he is anxious? Does she make herself a fool just to see him smile? There is happiness after him, yes but there was happiness because of him. Happiness, what a cruel world.

"Where is Daddy taking you?" "Daddy wants to surprise…" your son says her name and each time you hear it, your heart and mind block her. "…so he is taking us to the park," your son is so innocent.

By noon, the girl that you swear you're kind to arrives holding his hand. "Ready, buddy?" Simon asks and carries his son. Why must they look like a perfect family? Did you and him ever look like that?

"Bye mummy!" your son waving as he walks out with his father. "Bye, sweets," you fake that smile.

As the door closes again, there it is, that funny feeling and all you can do is drink wine and look at old photos. That white dress, the same one he swore vows to, the same one you wore as you two danced in an empty kitchen. Sleepwalk by Santo and Johnny played as he whispered how in this life, you were his person. If only then your heart knew the lie those words held.

You tried to move on, but every guy that you talked to or were set up with was compared to him. No smiley face after the text? Simon would do it. The new date didn't hold your hand when crossing the street? Simon made sure to hold it and went past that, Simon parked close to the restaurant, just so your heels wouldn't hurt you.

Dirty dancing in crowded kitchens, whispers during dinner with friends and kisses that felt like renaissance paintings, that is what Simon gave you and now, he gives it to her.

"Marry me, marry me for all I've got and I swear this world is yours, my world and heart are all yours," his desperation presents. "I'll marry you if you marry me," you smile and he laughs. His strong arms wrap around you as he spins you around the room. "Oh my love," he says when he kisses you.

Ten at night, Simon and your son at the door, "We're home!" your son runs to hug you and you smile, hugging him back.

A flashback runs to you.

It's a secret ceremony, two people, one backyard, two rings and two vows. "I always asked myself why me? I met you in a crowded street, a busy lane and there you were. Two years of understanding you, all your problems, all the nightmares, understanding that heart of yours and….here I am. I swear on all I've got that no one will ever replace you, no one can." You wipe tears away as you read. "I have no idea what the future holds, I'm a mess and…you love me. It must be a curse to love me and you bit the apple. You're a mess, I love you and it's a blessing to love you, I'll kiss you to wake you up."

In those pale brown eyes of his, Simon finds tears that run down. "I want to be the girl you always dreamed of and every day, that's what I'll try to be." ---

"Mummy?"

"Huh, oh yeah. How was it?" You ask Simon. "Not long enough," he kisses your cheek as he walks inside. "Where is she?" "Home, I dropped her off." He answers and walks upstairs. Simon Riley, the same man who has you looking for all the poisoned apples, waiting to give that kiss his lips need.

Eleven at night, little one asleep, Simon hugging you goodbye and as he pulls away, you keep him there. "Don't leave, I'm tired of playing strong," you whisper and his heart shatters.

Was this not what you wanted? He forced himself to love someone new and yet, you were there, begging with those eyes of yours for him to listen to the silence of pleas. Those big arms of his, wrapping you in a blanket of home.

"…I broke up with her, that's why she didn't come with us," he confesses and in that moment, that tunnel with the light at the end appears again. "What?" you pull away and he nods. "I can't love her like I do you. I feel like I'm cheatin' on her each time my mind wanders to you. I compare her to you. She doesn't make me laugh, she can't do it."

"Simon-"

"It's not like I dated her for long and she understood, that and she also wants her ex-husband back," he laughs at the irony.

"I'm not asking that you take me back, that all goes back to how it was before but what I am asking is that you give me Friday at 6 pm, dinner at our favourite place, on me." There it is, that smile of his. His dimples show when he sees your eyes go wide.

"I don't know-" "Dinner on Friday, 6 pm and I swear you'll love me until we are old and grey," a young Simon Riley once told you. You were just 23 and he 26. Looking at it now, it's funny how life works. Date nights, always at the same shitty restaurant you both grew to love, always a Friday at 6 pm, always tulips, always a kiss on your hand because he loved how you blushed.

He hated change, he hated how he never saw himself celebrate your 12th anniversary and he hated how he missed you dancing in the kitchen, that white dress on you and how he kissed your body on every anniversary since the first time he called you his wife.

Traditions, those never seem to end.

2 years later, one secret renewal of vows, one backyard, two rings, two vows and three hearts, four if you included that baby girl in your belly.

Simon Joseph Riley and the obvious beauty of his missus R/N Riley. Spring, flowers, the giggles from your son and the warm laughter of your husband and you serving lunch with that big belly of yours. "Boys!" you call out.

He bit the apple, you kissed the poisoned lips and now live in a dream with the perfect little family.

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luxaofhesperides · 1 month

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Ghostlight prompt: Danny and Duke being childhood friends, but Danny tells Duke the moment the accident happens and such cause he trusts him, only for Danny to go radio silent when giw decide to block the town communications in senior year.

So Duke-does he tell Danny he's Signal or not? Up to you-gets worried the longer no contact goes by.

Maybe the away game thing seen in other posts where the sports team still does away games and Danny gets enough good will with star or dash maybe and they send a message to Duke that's some coded phrase and Duke knows shits going down?

(yourlocalcorviddad, it's a side blog so didn't want to send from main sorry)

Danny is not someone who is on his mind a lot, these days. It’s to be expected, considering how distance and their double lives eat up all the time they have to talk. Really, it’s a miracle that they were able to speak enough to learn about their own individual vigilante work, especially with Duke bouncing around foster homes for a good portion of that time.

They haven’t spoke in months but that’s normal for them.

Duke thinks he can be forgiven for not knowing something was wrong. He still won’t forgive himself for it.

“Danny’s gone?” he repeats, feeling numb. There’s static ringing in his ears, his entire world hollowing out.

The guy in front of him looks grim, unable to meet Duke’s eyes. Did he introduce himself? Duke can’t remember, can’t keep his spiraling thoughts straight in his head. “He’s gone. His entire family is gone and we haven’t been able to call for help because… well…”

“It’s those guys, right? The ones in white?”

“You know about them?”

“Danny told me. Danny told me a lot about what he did in Amity Park.”

The guy lets out a slow, relieved breath. “Good, then I don’t have to explain. Sorry, it’s just that it’s not something we talk about, especially out in the open. After the last few months, things got really bad. We know the GIW took the Fentons, but we can’t find out how or why and they’ve got us on a tight lockdown.”

“Then how did you get out?” Duke asks. Another arguably more important question pops into his mind a second later. “Actually, how do you know about Danny and… you know. The other things.”

The grimness on the guy’s expression fades away some beneath the sudden shame and embarrassment. “Oh, that. Well, I dunno how much he told you about his, like, daily life, but, um. I’m Dash. Baxter. I bullied him?”

Dash.

Dash. That’s a name he recognizes.

Danny’s complained about Dash a lot in the past. Since they were in middle school, really. Duke would always get mad on Danny’s behalf about how terribly he’s being treated, how no one would stop such obvious bullying. And every time, Danny would laugh it off and say in that soft voice of his, It’s alright, Duke, really. Having you care is more than enough for me.

It never stopped the bullying, though, but the way Danny talked about Dash changed when they both entered high school. He was still annoyed about everything Dash did, but there were less insults about him, less venting about every little thing that pissed Danny off about him, as if he just didn’t care anymore.

And there is, of course, the most memorable time Danny called Duke about Dash over the summer.

Hey, Danny, Duke had began, only to be cut off by Danny yelling, I kissed Dash?! Or he kissed me?! What am I supposed to do now!

And Duke, despite the jealousy he felt at hearing that Danny and Dash kissed, laughed so hard he cried while Danny yelled at him to be helpful.

There wasn’t any discussion on Dash since, beyond a comment here and there about a funny fanboying thing Dash had said about Phantom. The focus of their conversations shifted towards how hard it was to be heroes or vigilantes, quiet reassurances that they’re both doing the best they can, tips traded about best ways to patch themselves up and get through the night. Sometimes, it felt like Danny was the only person in the world to really know Duke; all his pain and promises, his dreams, everything he was Before and who he became in the After.

He’s missed Danny, but the last message Danny sent him told him that things were getting rough in Amity Park, and to not call or contact him until he reached out first.

So Duke trusted in Danny and focused his attention in Gotham, putting his all into becoming a better hero, someone people can rely on.

He thinks that maybe he should have fallen into the Bats’ bad habits of invading privacy to make sure Danny’s okay.

Too late for that now, though.

“I know you,” Duke says after a long moment. “He talked about you sometimes. Come with me, we have a lot to discuss.”

Dash looks appropriately nervous, but he doesn’t argue.

It’s a tense, quiet walk to the library where Barbara works. She’s stationed at the front desk when he arrives and greets him with a smile, eyes flicking towards Dash in question.

“Hey, Babs, got a private study room open?”

Her gaze sharpens and Duke can’t help the feeling of relief that flows through him, knowing that Oracle is ready to look out for him. “Let me check,” she says, turning towards the computer to click around a few pages. “Study room 8 is open.”

That’s the study room with a working lock and soundproofing. It also has cameras and a mic inside, but all the other study rooms have one too, just for safety purposes. Things could always go terribly wrong when people are locked together in a small room, and having video and audio evidence of what happened has assisted in more than a few cases.

He leads them up to the second floor, past the students studying and the group of young children in the back corner of the library listening intently to a read aloud.

The only occupied study rooms are those up front, closer to the stairs. The back rooms are empty and quiet, the perfect place for a little impromptu interrogation.

“So,” Duke says as he closes the door to study room 8 behind them. Dash sits down as if this is just a casual conversation, but the way his foot taps against the floor betrays his nerves. “Danny’s gone. And somehow, that lead you to me.”

Dash glance around, then leans closer to drop his voice into a harsh whisper. “The Guys In White got some insane upgrades a few months ago and forced every citizen of Amity Park into a surveillance state. The entire Fenton family is gone, but we all know it’s really because they want Danny.”

“Explain the situation in Amity Park some more.”

“Well. It’s like this: we didn’t take them seriously, so they upped their moves and got us trapped. No one goes in or out of Amity Park without good, verifiable reason. We have a curfew and we can be randomly stopped and searched for ectoplasm or exposure to ghosts. Most of the ghosts have left, but a few of the stronger ones hang around to cause trouble to get the GIW off our backs for a bit.”

“So how did you end up in Gotham?”

“I was invited to tour the college. And since outsiders were expecting me, the GIW let me go. But there’s definitely some that tailed me to Gotham, but I can’t find them at all. Even talking to you now is a huge risk for me.”

Which means they don’t have much time to talk before someone comes looking for Dash. His words, paired with everything Duke’s heard from Danny, paint a deeply unpleasant picture in his mind. “Are you going to be in trouble?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s Danny we’re all worried about. He told me before he got caught that if anything happened to him, I should find you. Tucker helped us narrow down where exactly you are and sent you that text to get you to where we met.”

“What do you think I can do?”

“I don’t know,” Dash admits. “But Danny trusts you, and he needs your help.”

Duke was never going to say no to this request to begin with, but damn if those words don’t make him want to run to Amity Park without waiting for anyone else.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’ll help rescue him and bring down the GIW. You should go now, before they get too suspicious.”

“What are you planning?”

“I got a couple of friends who are good at destroying government property. Trust me, you’ll see what we’re up, we’re pretty noticeable if we’re pissed off enough.”

“Don’t take too long then,” Dash says, standing up, “I expect a good show from you. See you around, man.”

And with that, Dash pats Duke’s shoulder and leaves the study room. Duke doesn’t follow after him. He’s got a rescue to start planning, and the less time he wastes, the better.

In the end, it’s pretty simple. It’s not a hard mission at all when the time comes for them to act, but the amount of data they gather and have to shift through is daunting. But that’s more Tim and Barbara’s forte, so he trusts them to handle it.

Together with Red Robin, Spoiler, and Black Bat, they hit Amity Park hard and fast.

One night was spent learning the lay of the land and every station and lab set up by the GIW. The second night was spent burning it all down and tossing open cages full of green blob ghosts and a few transparent, weakly glowing human ghosts. Stronger ghosts, glowing brightly, joined them in a few places with battle cries and maniacal laughter.

They split up and took down all the bases and patrol stations on their own, sweeping through the city like vengeful shadows.

By dawn, the GIW were in shambles, without any bases or equipment, and rounded up for arrest.

Cass was the one to find Danny and his family; his parents were forced to create weapons for the GIW under threat of Danny and Jazz’s torture. Danny was locked up like an animal and studied. Jazz had restraints on, including a muzzle, and a bloodthirsty rage in her eyes. Apparently, she had put up the most fight and, while being studied for repeated exposure to ectoplasm and radiation, started biting people.

The Fentons are big names in this conflict. Tim makes the executive decision to burn one of his out-of-state safehouses so they can hide and recover in peace, then promptly moves them into it as soon as the EMTs give them the all clear. They’re gone by the time the sun is rising over the horizon, and the curious Amity Parkers that have gathered behind the blockade of police cars have to be reassured that the Fentons have been taken away for their protection, not for further abuses. Even then, tensions are high and the locals are clearly prepared to start rioting now that they have a chance to fight back.

As vigilantes, they’re not meant to interact with cops much. Perhaps it’s simply their experiences in Gotham that keep them at a distance, disappearing into the neighborhood the moment attention shifts off of them. Either way, Duke is hurrying out of Amity Park with the rest of the team on his heels, eager to return to Gotham and follow up on their own leads to make sure the GIW is properly gutted and dismantled.

Duke heads off for the Hatch as soon as they reach Gotham, hoping to shed the suit and finally be able to call Danny. The guilt of not noticing how bad things had gotten rolls through his stomach, and more than that, he’s missed hearing Danny’s voice.

The first few calls go straight to voicemail. Duke leaves a quick message asking Danny to let him know how he’s doing as soon as he can talk.

Then he goes for a shower and to change into civilian clothes, prepared to make his way to Wayne Manor to let Bruce know how everything went. And hopefully distract him from his Disappointed Father/Leader Lecture about taking on missions behind his back, as if Duke can’t handle himself. And also because Bruce has no leg to stand on when it comes to this. He’s fully prepared to throw that entire lecture back into his face at a moment’s notice.

The post-mission exhaustion is hitting him hard and fast. Duke has to brace himself against the wall once he’s out of the shower, resisting the urge to just lie on the floor and sleep there until he starts feeling more human.

Somehow, he gets himself into some sweatpants and a plain shirt, pulls on a pair of mismatched socks, and begins gathering his things so he can get to the Batcave.

He’s in no state to be driving. Maybe someone would be willing to take him there?

Just as he reaches for his phone to thumb through his contacts and see who he can bother, it buzzes in his hand. Duke blames the way he jumps on his exhaustion, then blinks his tired eyes to squint at the name that pops up onto the screen.

Danny.

All at once, his exhaustion fades away. A rush of adrenaline runs through him as he scrambles to accept the call, already pacing around the room so he doesn’t fall asleep.

“Hello?”

There’s a moment of silence, then the exhale of a breath that turns to static over the call. “Duke,” Danny’s tired voice says. “Duke…”

“You doing okay? I couldn’t get to you before you and your family had to leave and go into hiding, but I’ve been worried about you, man.”

“I’m good. We’re all fine, now. Fentons are strong, you know? We’ll bounce back in no time.”

From what he’s heard about Danny’s family, that’s most definitely true. He’s seen the pictures of walls Jack Fenton has burst through with his body. It’ still hard to believe that no one in the family is a meta, outside of Danny.

“You need anything? I can get it to you, just say the word. Anything at all.”

Danny hums, then asks with a playful note in his voice, “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“I need you. How fast can you come meet me? I’ll even pay for express delivery.”

Duke laughs, so relieved at hearing the lightness return to Danny’s voice that he feels weak in the knees. “It’ll be at least two days. I gotta sleep and debrief with Batman before I can see you. It’s gonna take some time to get out of Gotham again.”

“Maybe I can go to you, instead,” Danny suggests. “Fly over and be there is less than an hour.”

“Are you in any shape to be flying right now?”

“I’m fine! Already healing and everything,” Danny insists.

“It might be dangerous if any rogue GIW agents go after you.”

“Well,” Danny says, “That’s why I need to get to my knight in shining armor sooner rather than later, right?”

Duke bites his lip to fight back a smile, blinking his eyes forcefully to keep them from closing under the heavy weight of exhaustion. “Does that make you a damsel in distress?”

“I mean, I did need rescuing, so I guess? I’m not much of a damsel, but I could put on a pretty dress for you. It’ll be like playing pretend when we were kids.”

“Oh, man, I kinda miss those poofy dresses. I think I could still rock on, put it on top of the armor when I go out for patrol.”

Danny snickers. “Signal: the most well dressed vigilante in Gotham.”

“That’s me, baby!”

The last of the agonizing fear that’s choked him since he first talked to Dash finally melts away. Danny’s fine now. Everything’s okay; the GIW are done for and there’s plenty of people willing to look out for the Fentons. This will never happen again.

“Hey,” Danny says, voice suddenly turing more serious. “Send me your location. I wasn’t joking when I said I could fly over to you. And before you say anything! I do need it; Jazz and my parents are smothering me and I just need to get away from everything and pretend all of this never happened.”

The admission softens Duke, makes him shove away everything that tells him this is a bad idea, that Danny needs more rest first, that having Danny fly over alone and without warning any of the Bats fills Duke with anxiety.

He does miss Danny. More than he can put into words.

“Yeah, okay,” he says at last. “Come meet me, Danny.”

He texts Danny the location of the Hatch before common sense tells him to be more careful with his base of operations. Not that it matters, anyways; if there’s anyone in the world he trusts with everything, it’s Danny.

Then he sends the Bats a quick text saying he’s crashing in the Hatch and to not bother him until the sun is fully up two days from now. Oracle gives him a thumbs up emoji, which is a good guarantee that she will personally see to it that no non-emergency messages interrupt his rest and recovery time.

Duke has no idea how long it will take Danny to get to the Hatch, so he putters around, cleaning up the space and straightening it out in an attempt to keep busy enough that he doesn’t crash. Travel really takes it out of him. It’s one of the cons of being born and raised in Gotham: he doesn’t have the stamina to travel outside of it, especially when they were there and back in less than three days.

Thank god for Tim’s many motorcycles and his tendency to see the speed limit as a weak suggestion that can be ignored while on a mission.

Ultimately, the call of sleep is too strong to resist.

One moment, Duke is sorting through files on the Hatch’s computer, and the next moment, he’s face down on a bed with his face shoved into a pillow.

Blearly, he manages to pull his phone out of his pocket and send Danny a typo-ridden text that hopefully gets across the message of might be asleep so just come in, don’t wait for me to answer the door.

He’s out like a light as soon as it sends. The last thing Duke registers is his phone dropping out of his hand and falling against the mattress with a little bounce.

When he begins to wake up, something’s changed. As much as he wants to go back to sleep, awareness comes back to him slowly and Duke forces himself to claw his way out of unconsciousness to figure out what, exactly, is bothering him so much. Until he figures out what’s changed in the room, he won’t be able to sleep because he’ll be worried about someone breaking in.

His mind comes back online long before his body does. It’s only when he tries to move that Duke realizes he’s no longer alone on the bed; there’s someone wrapped up in his arms, body temperature a little too cool to be a normal human.

Blinking open his eyes, Duke looks down at the head of messy black hair and feels Danny’s soft breath ghost across his chest.

“Danny?” he manages to say, voice rough with sleep.

Danny hums and doesn’t move.

“Hey, look up. Let me see if you’re really alright.”

“Mmm, no,” Danny mumbles, burrowing his face into Duke’s chest some more. “‘m sleepy.”

A good argument. Duke is also sleepy.

“Fine,” he says, “Check in the morning, then. G’night, Danny.”

“Night, Duke. Thanks for saving me.”

He tightens his grip on Danny, contentment burning warm in his chest. “Always, Danny. I’ll always save you.”

That’s why he’s a hero, after all. To save others, to reach a hand out to everyone the way he needed when he was younger. To keep the people he loves safe. To make sure Danny always finds a way back to him.

This is what makes all the pain of this lifestyle worth it.

Danny makes everything worth it.

(@yourlocalcorviddad tagging to make sure you see this!)

#ghostlights #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #prompt fill #my writing #i thought up a whole backstory to the duke/dash kiss (accidental. embarrassing for both parties) but it didnt fit w the rest of the fic so #its not included. i can include it in a rb if u want tho!!#my sleepy boys..... they go thru so much but at the end of the day they always feel at home with each other #childhood friends duke/danny is so important to me #also couldnt think of a coded phrase sorry. now we just have dash walking up to duke like HEY. HELP DANNY. and duke went with it #thanks for the prompt!!

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feirceangel · 5 months

Text

Imagine | Harassed (Shanks)

Imagine doing some shopping when a strange man won’t leave you alone.

Warnings: some violence, reader is harassed and threatened, reader is a badass

Word Count: 1143

(Not my gif)

You couldn’t remember the last time you stayed on an island this long. It must’ve been years ago, long before you met him.

Traveling had always been a desire of yours. To traverse the world, discovering different cultures and landscapes, that was your dream.

And you’ve been living it gratefully for years.

Of course, it’s always nice to spend more than a few days ashore once you have the opportunity.

Your Captain has business on this tropic island, and you’ve been enjoying the leisure time that this gives you.

Right now, you’re shopping at the local markets, admiring the bright jewelry and clothing that the various vendors offer.

A raucous laugh sounds off behind you. You ignore it, minding your own business, even as you hear a loud whistle.

“Hey, pretty lady,” a man’s voice says.

You continue ignoring it, instead reading the price of a beautiful red jewel.

This apparently aggravates the man trying to get your attention. He grabs your shoulder roughly, expecting it to be easy to turn you towards him.

You remain in place, stronger than the man anticipated.

After he removes his hand, you turn to him with a frown, “May I help you?”

He’s a tall man in a nice suit, not too shabby looking. Too bad his personality is rotten. Behind him are five more men in similar fashion. You take clear note of the weapons strapped to their sides.

“I was talking to you,” he growls. “I don’t like being ignored.”

“I don’t like being hassled,” you retort, crossing your arms.

“I was just saying how gorgeous you are,” he explains with a slimy grin.

You turn on your heel, “Thanks.”

“Hey!” He shouts, getting closer to you so that you can feel his breath. “Don’t you know who I am?”

“Do you know who I am?” You ask pointedly.

“You’re a pretty piece of ass that needs to be taught a lesson,” he scowls, stepping back. “And we’ll gladly be your teachers.”

Disgust washes over you.

“Are you trying to hit on me? Because you’re doing a poor job of it. And you’re wasting your breath- I’m already taken.”

“I could take you better than he ever could,” he tries to argue.

Your laughter is impossible to hold back, “You’re delusional, you aren’t even near his level. You should stop talking now.”

A smirk forms on your lips as you watch the man shake with anger. His eyes are alight with rage at being shot down and humiliated in front of his friends.

Meanwhile, you’ve mentally checked out, comparing the red of the jewel to your man’s hair. He loves seeing you in his colour.

A loud click goes off near your ear, the kiss of cold metal on your temple a warning not to move.

“You’re gonna regret speaking to me like that.”

You step back from the market stall, shooting an apologetic look towards the owner. The poor girl looks terrified.

One of the man’s lackeys has pulled his gun on you, standing much too close for comfort.

Unimpressed, you shake your head, “How immature.”

“I’m going to-“

He stops as a malevolent aura suddenly appears, causing sweat to form on his brow.

“What exactly are you going to do?” A deceptively calm voice speaks out, followed by footsteps as a red-haired man approaches.

The man in front of you has gone paler than a corpse, shaking just like the man holding the gun against your head.

“Red-Haired Shanks,” a man near you whispers in terror.

They seem to be grasping the situation now. Although, you could have handled the situation just fine on your own.

You smile at your man, who raises a quizzical brow.

“These guys bothering you?”

Before you can reply, the hassler interrupts, “Please, sir we had no idea-“

A gunshot rings out and the gun pressed against your head suddenly falls as the man collapses in a display of bright red blood.

Infuriated, you kick out, knocking the guy to the floor next to his dead buddy.

“Shut up. You should have respected me regardless of who I associate with,” you deliver a harsh kick to his side before pressing your foot on top of his chest.

“Scum like you are less than worms to me,” you grit out, adding more pressure until you hear a sickening crack of a broken rib and the man cries out in pain. “You never know when to quit.”

You reach out a hand towards Shanks and he hands you his sword without hesitation. None of this dimwit’s posse do anything to try and help their leader.

They know it’s a battle they could never win.

With a graceful flick of your wrist, the man below you is impaled through the heart. A clear message to anyone watching.

You fix your gaze on the remaining losers, “Don’t harass people, okay?”

They nod profusely, muttering nonstop apologies as they retreat quickly.

You crouch down to wipe the blood off of Shank’s sword, handing it back with a smirk.

“Darling,” he sheathes his weapon, moving closer to you and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “That was stunning.”

“Shanks, I was handling it just fine before you showed up,” you say, passing a glance over his shoulder to offer a smile to Benn Beckman. “But thanks for the assist anyways.”

“I know, but you know how I get seeing someone get so close to you,” Shanks says, looping his arm around your shoulders. “Especially when they threaten what’s mine.”

You grin, pressing your lips against his and nipping at him playfully.

“Why didn’t you deal with them sooner?” He inquires once you break away.

“Maybe I wanted to play the part of the damsel for once,” you tease. “Seeing you all protective and possessive gets me riled up.”

“Vixen,” he laughs, “You knew I was watching.”

“I always know, Shanks,” you wink at him. “Just like I know you’ll buy this for me.”

You show him the jewel that perfectly matches the shade of his hair.

He laughs, handing the money over to the shopkeeper, “I could never deny you, Y/n.”

He embraces you again and you lean into his warmth, inhaling the familiar scent of sake and sea breeze.

“I think I’ll have it made into a ring, that way everyone will know you’re mine.”

The grin that breaks onto your face is enough to brighten his whole lifetime.

He hugs you closer and presses a chaste kiss to your head.

He’d never let anyone else touch his treasure, he’d destroy anyone if they tried.

But he also knows you can fend for yourself, one of the many qualities that he adores about you.

You take his hand, leading him down the market, “Now you’re stuck shopping with me~”

He can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.

#female reader #imagine #reader insert #x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #shanks x reader #shanks #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks #one piece imagine #one piece shanks #op #op x reader #red haired shanks x reader

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satoruxx · 6 months

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sorry to go feral in your inbox but ghostface!miguel who is crazy about you (in a good way I promise) and does everything in his power to protect you and keep those horrible college guys from your classes away from you but you only know him as the mysterious gravelly voice who calls you every night that you’ve grown fond of as your personal lullaby-

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader | 1.5k words summary: ghostface!miguel, stalking, possessive miguel, violence, death, killing, obsessive behavior, suggestive, killer miguel ofc, reader is WAY too trusting, miggy just loves you so much !! rheya’s note: NONNIE BABES YOU GENIUS !! he absolutely would oh my fucking god. i am so normal about this (going feral) i was literally squealing while writing this it was rough. why is this concept hot? do i need therapy? probably. anyways he's a creep in this but in a good way? (the way this ask literally got me inspired to draw ghostface!miguel UGH) anyways ENJOY !!

miguel isn't a bad guy. he's not. he's one of the good guys actually, a hero. he's always been a hero.

it's not his fault that there are some assholes in the world that are fucked up, preying on innocent people who just want to live their lives.

sweet, innocent people like you.

how a girl as sweet and precious as you managed to get yourself surrounded by such horrible people is beyond him. and you're so nice too, always assuming that nobody has it out for you or that everyone has some good in them. with that mindset, you were just asking to be put in danger.

so, being the hero that he is, it's his obligation to look out for you, right?

it starts off quietly. he doesn't make an effort to connect with you, choosing to watch you from the shadows as he silently tracks your day. miguel is nothing if not observant, mentally noting every single person you interact with or looks your way. and if they get a little too close, a little too comfortable? well, then he'd just have to take care of that for you, wouldn't he?

he hates that one flirty coworker of yours, always leaning a little too close to you and chatting like he's your fucking boyfriend. miguel can see the little crease of discomfort in your brows whenever that coworker is nearby, and he decides that he hates that expression on you. but you feel fine afterwards, because when your coworker goes missing the next day, you send a quick thank you to the heavens, trying to push down your guilt.

he finds out that you try to make some extra money by tutoring a guy at your school. and when miguel watches the two of you through the windows of the library he feels hatred like no other run through his veins because he doesn't like how this guy looks at you. that asshole probably didn't even need tutoring to begin with, using it as a pathetic excuse to get close to you. what a fucking joke. but you don't have to stress about tutoring anymore because the next day you get a text saying the kid has transferred schools. you never hear from him again.

oh but the worst ones are the ones who ask you out on dates. they don't even know how lucky they are, getting to see you all dolled up and pretty for them, only to absolutely destroy your hopes for a good time. it makes miguel so angry he sees red. every fucking time one of those losers makes a comment that has your shoulders slumping with disappointment, a miserable frown on your pretty lips by the end of the night, he feels sick to his stomach. but he hopes that when you see your date's body on the news the next morning, you won't be so disappointed anymore.

only after watching over you for a while does miguel decide to finally talk to you, finding the perfect hiding spot to watch you through your window as you pick up your ringing phone. he has to stop himself from groaning because your voice sounds so much sweeter when it's in his ear, smooth and precious as you ask who it is. and he can't resist playing with you, dying to hear more as he sighs behind his mask.

"tell me your name and maybe i'll tell you mine." miguel answers, gravelly voice practically purring through the speaker. he can see the confusion on your face as you pace your kitchen, reaching for a bag of chips before walking back to your couch and settling in to watch a movie. he hears the screams from the tv and bites his lip. "what's that noise?"

"a movie." you reply, the expression on your face getting less guarded as you listen to his voice.

"a scary movie?" he asks, leaning against the edge of the roof so that he's got the perfect view of you. you take a chip and pop it in your mouth, chewing quietly, and he follows the movement of your lips with eager eyes.

"mhm," you nod, and miguel thinks it's so fucking cute the way you move your head even though you think he can't see you.

"you like scary movies?" he asks with a hum, and you voice out a yes. his eyes remain hooded and attentive as he effortlessly continues the conversation. "you got a favorite, sweetheart?"

he catches the way you melt under his sweet words, and miguel decides then and there that he's never letting you go. he listens to your answers with a grin, tucking his knife away and watching you animatedly talk to him for the remainder of the night.

and the rest is history.

you tell him about a guy who's bothering you? he'll bury him. someone made you cry? he'll break their legs. your date stood you up? he'll stab them so many times he loses count. and then after all of that, he'll call you like he always does, rumbling honeylike words into his phone as he casually watches you from behind his mask.

"and how was your day today, sweetheart?" he'll drawl out, late at night as he perches on the neighboring roof to your apartment. with the way he's angled he can perfectly see the innocent little smile on your face as you settle in bed, talking on the phone like you're not scared of him at all.

and you shouldn't be, because he'd never hurt you, of course.

some nights you'll giddily tell him about the most exciting parts of your day, smiling and giggling until you fall asleep without a care in the world. but on the nights when you complain or whine about somebody that's made you upset, wronged you, or god forbid, showed interest in you? well, those are the nights miguel has to grit his teeth and clench his fists, trying to control the flare of pure rage that courses through him. he lulls you to sleep with sweet words, trying to keep his cool but still vibrating with anger because who the fuck do they think they are, getting near you like that?

"don't worry, pretty girl," he sighs into the phone, twirling his knife between his fingers. "i'm sure they'll stop bothering you soon enough."

and they do. but you being the precious oblivious little thing you are, assume that you're just lucky. a guardian angel, you had said, was watching over you. miguel had just chuckled into the phone, deep and rich as he smirked at you from the roof once again.

"guardian angel? well lucky you, huh?" he had asked, feeling all too pleased with himself. you agreed with a nod.

well, if that's what you wanted to see him as he had no problem playing guardian angel for you.

and no he doesn't even want you to find out, because the last thing he wants to do is scare you. no no, he'd much rather protect you from the shadows, eliminating every single threat could ever harm a hair on your pretty little head. his reward comes in the form of you living your life, carefree smiles and all.

and granted he feels much more rewarded when he calls you late at night, deep voice teasing with an underlying sense of possessiveness as he speaks to you about anything and everything. he doesn't understand why and how you decided that he was safe to talk to, but you do, laughing and sighing into the phone until you've dozed off.

and if you've accidentally left your windows open, well of course being the gentleman he is, miguel will close them for you. but not before he stands at your bedside, raising his mask to watch you sleep peacefully. such a pretty little thing, so sweet and gentle. and after pulling himself away from your sleeping form, he quietly shuts the window behind him, yanking his mask back down with a smirk because he doesn't want anyone else to see you all vulnerable like that.

you were too trusting to begin with, but you trusting him is alright. after all he's the only one who's been looking out for you. anyone else tries to get near you and he'll have no choice but to tear their limbs off. they could be a threat to you, right?

but that's why he'll never let you out of his sight.

you're his after all.

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izukuisbaby · 1 year

Text

⊹˚.⋆ OUR FAVOURITE DILFS WITH A FAMOUS S/O - JUJUTSU KAISEN

℘. flora's notes : I've had this idea forever but I couldn't manage to write it UNTIL NOW. my idea was that reader is a model so it's kind of based on that, though you are free to be famous for whatever reason u want 💀

℘. send me a request ! : i would love to write this for other jjk characters (especially TOJI) but please give me ideas cuz i can't find anything :((

℘. gn, male, female reader 💓

m.list | comment and reblog if you enjoyed ! i am not posting at peek hours i would rly appreciate it if u could reblog w related tags 🥰

★ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

℘. he 100% stalked you on your socials and knew everything about you

℘. it's also very likely that he slid into your DMs shamelessly

℘. something cringe like : " what a pretty human in a pretty restaurant, we should go there together sometime 😏"

℘. but we all know this mf, he didn't stop at ONE DM

℘. no, his name is elegantly followed by "9+ messages" all of them being cringe pick up lines to beg you to go on a date with him 😍

℘. and you eventually agreed but it was mostly for him to leave you in peace

℘. he was convinced you'd fall for his charms and unfortunately, he was right... can't blame you I would too

℘. and since your first kiss - which was an officialization of your relationship to him - he would not shut up about it

℘. everytime y'all are out in public he makes it clear he's your boyfriend for the paparazzis

℘. gojo loves attention... so he LOVES paparazzis

℘. he thinks y'all are the most goal couple to exist and brags about it

℘. "y/n, can you imagine what other people must think of us : "the strongest and the most famous (your job of choice), they were meant to be"

℘. you have 100% your own ship name and fanpages, you're labeled as the "hot couple" who is edited on tik tok 24/7

℘. I don't think I insisted enough on how he BOASTS about dating you to whoever shows a spark of interest in his life

℘. the poor nanami hears about it every second of the day and is FED UP with it, but his last straw was when gojo was talking about you to a curse they were suppose to eliminate...

℘. he has you and him on a fun fair date as a wallpaper and purposely leaves his phone on during meetings so everyone can see he's dating you... and also to get yet another occasion to brag

⊹

★ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

℘. HE WOULD BE SO SUPPORTIVE

℘. he will attend all of your shows and interviews, always on the front row. sometimes walking for a show can be pretty stressful for you but seeing his angel face calms you down and gives you back your confidence in an instant <3

℘. ... he's very active on LinkedIn and he reposts your achievements/front pages with a professional yet sweet and admirative commentary

℘. he likes to go backstage before your shows so he can give you one last forehead kiss and compliment

℘. never hesitates to tell paparazzis to back off, he doesn't like his privacy invaded but he will gladly take pictures of you with a fan for them

℘. his favourite photo that he has everywhere is one a selfie you took before a show with a world renowned brand. you looked so stunning and confident, it never fails to make him smile when he looks at it

℘. i feel like he didn't really know you, just saw you from one or two front pages but it didn't click until you told him you were a (your job)

℘. i don't know why but i think you would have met on a dating app 😭 like nanami is tired of being single and he told gojo about it WHO OBVIOUSLY WAS KIN ON HELPING ! and he got to discover your personality first, which is the most precious part of you in his opinion

℘. because yes you ARE attractive but no one but him knows the part of you that is the most beautiful and he loves that

℘. i think he can't help but be a bit jealous that people simp over you so he would never refuse to take a cute picture for the world to see

℘. on your third date, he asked you to be his partner and gave you a ring as an officialization. since them, you've been wearing it as a lucky charm and you never take it off

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flowercrowngods · 11 months

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hello i’m attempting something for steddie week too, but it'll be one large thing probably @steddie-week

day 01: pining

2 new messages

eddie The Problem munson: —steeb —esteban —stefano —stevie —love of my life apple of my eye pls pls tell me i can call you —i am very chill etc etc —no i’m not —let me call youuuu —😠🥺🙏

Steve snorts as he picks up his phone and reads Eddie’s messages that keep coming in his usual spam of consciousness, a giddy feeling spreading in his chest as he snorts and goes to answer.

— Call me then, coward

Not a second later, his phone rings. Steve picks up immediately, even though he considers making Eddie wait; just to be difficult. Just to calm his racing heart that is always so lively around Eddie.

“What,” he says, attempting to sound bored and annoyed — in vain, because even he can hear the smile on his face. Traitor, he thinks to himself.

“Steve,” Eddie sing-songs, drawing out Steve’s name like he does every time he’s happy. “Steve, Steve, Stevie.”

“Ed, Ed, Eddie,” he sings back, relaxing into his couch and shutting the laptop. Lesson planning can wait, he decides, shuffling all the loose pages into the text book and placing his laptop on the pile, trusting that physics won’t betray him. “What’s got you so happy, hm?”

“Why do you think I’m happy?” Damn idiot has a smile on his face as he asks that, Steve can hear it. It makes his own grin widen and he huffs into the phone.

“I literally know you, babe.”

Babe. His heart flutters every time he says it — and he tries not to, because it’s meaningless, it’ll never happen. But Eddie picks it back up every time, and Steve is weak. God, he is so, so weak.

On the other end, Eddie hums and Steve basks in the sound for a moment. It’s always so contagious, Eddie’s happiness, and he wants to soak it all up. Wants to be the reason for it. Wants, wants, wants.

“You do,” Eddie says, his voice so light and fond it makes Steve’s whole body tingle. And his heart flutter. And it fills him with such happiness that he feels like he could take on the entire world right now, just with the way Eddie’s voice went all soft on him.

God, he’s hopeless. So, so hopeless. But he’s also weak. An addict, leeching off Eddie’s attention, getting a kick out of the smallest dose, and absolutely certain he couldn’t survive if it were taken from him. He needs it. Even if it kills him a little bit, because—

“She said yes.”

Steve blinks. “Huh?”

“Chrissy. She said— She said yes, Stevie. We’re getting married.”

He says it and he sounds so happy. So, so happy. And Steve is the world’s worst best friend for the way he freezes, the way he almost drops his phone if it weren’t for the vice grip he has on it, frozen in time and space because his heart has stopped beating. It has stopped, surely, because no beating heart can hurt this much. No beating heart can crack open and still work the way it used to three, five, seven seconds ago.

Eddie, bless his entire soul, laughs to fill the silence, and it’s the happiest sound. A boyish one, like there is no pain in the world and not a worry on his mind. A bit hysterical, too. Like he can’t believe it himself yet. Like this is the best day of his life and saying it again has reminded him of it. At least that’s what Steve imagines it feels like when someone wants to be married to you. He wouldn’t know, of course, as the only person he would ever ask is already engaged to someone else. Apparently.

Eddie is engaged.

Engaged and laughing and so, so happy.

And Steve feels nauseous. Dizzy. Breathless. His eyes begin to sting and the hand that’s holding his phone begins to tremble, his grip so tight it hurts.

Steve feels… too much. His hands tremble and he tries hard not to cry.

“You’re getting married.”

“We’re getting married.”

They’re getting married.

Fuck.

Someone has to tell Robin. Because in true Platonic Soulmate manner, Steve and Robin fell in love with the two people who are in love with each other. Like the chaotic mess they are.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you about it sooner,” Eddie continues, a bit more sober now. Sounding genuine and sufficiently awkward about it, in true Eddie-manner. Like the big old softie he secretly is. “I would have, but…”

But I know you’re in love with me and didn’t want to burden you with the love I carry for someone who isn’t you, Steve’s brain auto-fills helpfully. But you keep flirting with me and there was never room for someone else when I was with you.

But, but, but—

He swallows and drags in a deep breath past the pain in his throat where all the words he can never say are forming a massive lump.

“Hey man, don’t worry about that, we all know I suck at keeping secrets,” he offers. And it’s a lie, because he has kept this one thing secret for years and years. This one thing, this huge and all-encompassing thing that he can feel in the tips of his fingers when he is texting Eddie, and on his tongue when they are talking, and in his heart even when he is sleeping.

This one thing, this one secret, is his never-ending love for Eddie.

And he will add another one to that, a lovely little friend for it. To keep it company. That other secret, of course, will be the way his heart has shattered into a million little pieces and will remain that way until he can’t even look at Eddie anymore. And even then will he look at Eddie and smile at him, and Eddie will smile back and the pain will flare up again.

Again and again and again, for the rest of their lives. Possibly even beyond that.

“You do suck at that,” Eddie chuckles, though it is quieter this time, almost private. Fond. Gentle. Always, always like that. It used to mean something once. And if Steve closes his eyes, he can imagine that Eddie smiles his secret smile, the one Steve has only seen directed at himself. It almost breaks him.

Eddie’s I have known you for a whole eternity and love you beyond words, silly, but you also make my life so much harder-smile. That’s what he has dubbed it because that is what Eddie had said the first time he smiled like that when Steve was drunk off his ass.

But. But, but, but—

It’s no use to think of that now, to reminisce and imagine what might have been if… Well. If Steve weren’t Steve.

And that sure is a dark path he doesn’t want to trudge now, not in the face of the even darker path of Eddie getting married that he sure as hell will have to walk down for the rest of his life.

He sighs and tries to think of something to say. Something good. Something that is not Please don’t marry Chrissy. Please don’t take yourself away from me. Please. Please don’t get married to anyone who isn’t me. Please open your eyes and see me, please listen to me, please understand what I say when I say I love you. Please.

He kind of spaces out for the rest of the conversation, not really listening to Eddie’s words over the ringing in his ears and the pumping beat of his shattered heart.

Eddie speaks softly to him, the undercurrent of happiness and contentment still in his voice, and it would give Steve life, it would be contagious, it would be so very precious if it didn’t also drive the knife of pain ever deeper into Steve’s entire soul, slicing him apart with no one around to put him back together again.

Splitting him in half. One half that just wants Eddie to be happy, to sound like he does right now for ever and ever. And the other half, loathing that Eddie’s happiness is not inspired by him, not because of him, not in any sort of relation to him.

It’s not fair. And Steve is torn. So he shuts himself off and lets Eddie ramble, tells him that he is tired after pulling an all-nighter again and wrangling the his difficult seventh graders that were particularly hard on him today when the other man asks him if he is all right.

“Steve,” Eddie sighs, and a traitorous tear rolls down Steve’s cheek at the caring exasperation he hears there. “How often do I need to tell you that sleep is important? You’re gonna wear yourself out at this rate. And the kids just suck.”

“I know,” he says, and sniffs, willing the tears to not fall. Not until Eddie has hung up on him.

“Aww. That emotional, huh?”

At that, Steve sobs out a laugh and gladly accepts the way out. “Well, excuse me, my bestest friend whom I love very much is getting married soon! Or, well, I hope it’s soon, nobody has time for all that suspense. Anyway, I am allowed to be emotional about this!”

Eddie chuckles again and sighs gently. “Yes, you are. I’m glad you are. Thank you, Stevie.”

Don’t thank me. Not for this. Not over this, please, don’t thank me.

“Don’t thank me,” he says with a grin, and it hurts his cheeks from how forced it is. “Thank yourself for being brave enough to actually go through with the proposal! We both know you’re chicken shit.”

Just like me, he thinks. Just like me.

They laugh and it sounds hollow to Steve’s ears. He just wants the phone call to end, wants this to be over with. Wants them to not get married. Never, ever, in this life or the next.

He wants… he wants Robin. No, he needs his best friend, his soulmate. He can’t cry alone, not about this.

Eventually, Eddie hangs up, that smile still so audibly his lips, and that painful happiness still very clear in his voice. Steve wants to share it. But he can’t.

All he can do is stare at the phone in his trembling hand before he closes his eyes and lets himself cry, his head falling back against the couch until he slumps over to one side. He stares and he cries until he can’t anymore.

Eddie. The love of his life. Is getting married. To Chrissy, the other, platonic love of his life, who is like a sister to him. Who, coincidentally, is the love of his real platonic soulmate’s life.

Fucking hell, the mess they find themselves in!

After a while of pitifully staring at the wall, all cried out and feeling thoroughly pathetic, he lifts his phone and speed-dials Robin.

“Stevie?”

He sniffs, and it must sound as awful as he feels, for her next words are, “I’ll be right there. Alcohol or ice cream?”

“Both?” he whimpers after a moment, and Robin hums right back.

“I’ve got you. I’ll be there in ten.”

She hangs up before he can say anything more, and he is overcome with all the love he holds for her.

As he waits for her to come over, he does not move from the awkwardly half curled-up position on his couch, the lesson plans for tomorrow forgotten completely. This is his life now. His Eddie-less life. His engaged-Eddie life. His loveless, hopeless, endlessly pitiful life.

come back tomorrow for: bittersweet & angst | read here

#steddieweek2023 #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #dio words #listen idk if this'll be a whole thing but I hope it will (but also I've written almost the exact same premise for the Witcher once before #so if you feel like this is too familiar I swear I am not plagiarising this is just me again with a hallmark typcial trope dont yell at me #please 🤍#it’s technically not day one for me bc it’s 3:42am but eh

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the-witty-pen-name · 2 months

Text

Love is Blind (Part 1)

Eddie Munson x PlusSize!F!Reader

Summary: In a last ditch effort to evade the normal disappointments of dating, a group of misfits desperate to have someone see who they are on the inside volunteer for the most recent brain chemistry study at Hawkins Lab.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Reader has low self-esteem and struggles with self love/acceptance, anxiety/trauma related to bullying, tooth rot worthy fluff, Eddie being a major flirt, cursing, mentions of substance use, brief descriptions of masturbation, smut in later parts

A/N: I got this idea from watching the newest season of Love is Blind and getting genuinely annoyed that the show still doesn’t have a more size inclusive dating pool. I feel like the show could be so much more. There are many subjects the show could be featuring that it just doesn’t. Anyways, this is incredibly self-indulgent, Eddie Munson loves plus size women and I refuse to accept otherwise. Enjoy!

Please consider reblogging/commenting if you like it!

Day One:

Eddie’s palms are sweaty, and he nervously wipes his hands on his jeans repeatedly. He bounces his leg, twisting the rings on his fingers. Fuck, what the hell is he even doing here? He’s sitting on a couch, facing a blank wall, and he’s absolutely scared shitless that he’s finally doing this. Hell, if it bombs, he gets some cash for participating. Whatever, it’s not like he actually believes in this shit.

He’s up and pacing the room when he finally hears a door on the other side of the wall open and close. He literally jumps over from the back of the couch to get back in his seat. He can hear the faint patter of someone walking. Then it stops, he assumes the person on the other side has taken a seat.

“This is so weird,” the voice from the other side of the wall says, and Eddie feels immediately at ease. He chuckles, shaking his head, standing up to walk the pent up energy out.

“Batshit,” Eddie exclaims in agreement. “I don’t know what I’m even doing here.”

“I’m here for the $200,” the voice jokes. “But that’s just me.”

He’s instantly relaxed, and suddenly, it doesn’t feel like he’s sitting alone in a drafty room on a lumpy couch. He’s intrigued, and ready to play the game. At least, he’s open to this first conversation. He feels a little better knowing that he’s not alone. He sits down finally, rubbing his hands still.

“I’m here,” he begins, allowing himself to be a little vulnerable, “because I am sick of the way people look at me.”

“Fuck, amen to that,” the voice responds with a clap, and the reaction makes Eddie grin from ear to ear. “Guys are so shallow, no offense.” He laughs.

“I’m not usually this outgoing,” the voice shares, sounding a little more reserved, “There’s something about you not looking at me that's making me a little more brave.” Eddie thinks this girl sounds so incredibly sweet. He’s never been attracted to someone’s voice, but he’s feeling himself being pulled in. It’s gentle, and kind and not deserving of whatever the world did to you to lead you here.

“Well, I’m used to being the spectacle,” Eddie sighs, leaning back into the couch, slumping down. “I can’t help it,” he exhales, “I mean, people think the worst of me no matter what I do, so like, fuck it. I’m gonna have fun with it.”

“Is that all of it?” the voice asks, knowingly. Eddie scoffs at the perception. Is he that obvious?

“No,” he cringes, and he hears a giggle from the other side of the wall. It helps him feel more comfortable. “Um honestly,” he continues, a little shy, “Part of me keeps the act up cause if people are watching me, I’m not alone. I’d rather be the laughing stock than have no one acknowledge me at all.”

“I’m the opposite,” the voice shares, “I’d so much rather be out of sight out of mind.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” he asks softly.

“In my experience,” the voice continues, “it has always felt like people keep me around so they feel better about themselves. I know that’s not true- I know my friends love me. I just- being by myself is my comfort zone. I don’t need to worry about how I’m like being perceived. Or if, like, I'm being judged.”

Eddie nods understandingly, until he remembers you can’t see him.

“I get it,” he says, trying to be comforting. “I, uh, yeah.. People don’t like… they don’t like understand what it feels like when you just feel simultaneously so small and like you take up too much space- and how they’re the ones that make you feel that way.”

“Wow- I’ve never heard it put into words so well before. That’s just been my life, you know?”

“We’re really getting deep huh?” he jokes, chest swelling with pride when he hears the laugh.

“I really like your voice,” the voice admits, and Eddie feels his face heat and he’s sure his face is flushed red from the compliment. His ego has been very much stroked at this point, and he takes the opportunity to fully embrace this whole flirting thing. If he can at least leave this experiment making someone feel good, then he won’t consider this a waste of time.

“Well, I really like your voice,” he quips. “Actually, uh- I’ve been sitting over here, on a really shitty couch. And I was asking myself what the hell was I doing here? I am probably the worst person for this experiment- I don’t think I could take this seriously. Then, I heard your voice- and I instantly felt attracted to you- if you can believe it. Now, I’m over here, your voice bringing out thing I would never fucking say out loud. I’m pacing around, you’ve made a mess of me.”

It feels like only a short period of time goes by, but in actuality, Eddie and his mystery date get wrapped up in talking for over three hours. He talks to her about music, his favorite books, his Uncle Wayne… sharing more about himself to a total stranger than he’d ever volunteer to even his close friends. You swap childhood stories, commiserate over bullies, and before he knows it, he thinks you might know him better than anyone.

A timer buzzes and it’s time for Eddie to move on to his next first “date.” As the door opens and one of the technicians is ready to escort him to the next room. He desperately stares at the wall before he moves, hoping to hear the voice one more time.

“Please, if you’re still there,” he says standing up, “I want to talk with you again tomorrow.” He knocks on the wall, rings tapping. He receives a knock back, and he grins devilishly,

“It’s a date.”

The technician taps his shoulder and he nods, letting them lead him out to the next room. He wraps an arm around the mousy guy as he jots down something on his clipboard. “I have a date tomorrow,” Eddie beams, looking back at the blank wall like he’s looking back to get another glance at you.

Day Two:

You still tug anxiously at your shirt, making sure it’s not clinging to your belly. Even though none of your dates can see you, you can’t shake the self conscious feeling. Yesterday was draining, all of the dates you had fell so short after that first one. Nothing came as easy to you as that first one, and you’re hoping you’ll get to talk to him soon.

You take a sip of your water, and opt to move from the couch to the floor. You sit criss-crossed and stare at the wall in front of you. You really focus on your breathing and try to let yourself open up. You’re here because you’re hoping to find someone who likes you for you- but no matter what, you’re still incredibly anxious thinking about the big reveal. No matter how well the conversations go, you worry it will be null and void once they see you’re plus size.

“Please, please, please for the love of God that this is finally you?” you hear a familiar voice whine, and you can’t contain your smile. “Pretty girl, c’mon talk to me.”

“You don’t know what I look like,” you scoff, but still, you feel yourself still melting like putty.

“Fuck, finally,” mystery boy sighs, and you hear him collapse on the couch. You can only assume his set-up is the same as yours. “Baby, I have been dying to hear your voice again.”

“This experiment not working out for you?” you ask, sympathetically. You find it hard to believe he’s not chatting up everyone else and hitting on them the same way he does with you. It’s the only explanation. You can’t let yourself believe he genuinely feels differently towards you.

“No this sucks,” he says, and then you hear him blow a raspberry. You can’t help it but laugh in agreement. “I just want to talk to you.” He sounds so vulnerable, and you actually find yourself believing him.

“Again,” you retort, rolling your eyes, “You don’t really know anything about me.”

“I want to,” he sounds so sincere, and it makes your heart swell. “You are the least boring person here.”

“I’m touched,” you reply sarcastically, and you feel good hearing that you made him laugh.

“I wish I could take you out,” he says and he sounds closer, like he’s sitting up against the wall. “I’ve got like no fucking money,” he laughs.

“I hate going out,” you reassure him, “I want to just hangout with you.”

“No, no, no,” he says dramatically, “No safe zone. You deserve to go out and be shown off. I am not gonna lock you away from the world, I’m gonna show you off.”

“And how are you gonna do that?” You quip, letting yourself slip into a little bit of a fantasy. You let yourself feel wanted and feel desirable even if it’s contained to this room.

“Well, not to be like that guy,” he’s suddenly sounding a little shy and you find it very endearing. “But like, I’d want to bring you to one of my band’s shows. Like- don’t get me wrong, we play at like really shitty bars that take way too long to drive to. And we don’t even make back the money the gas costs to get there, but like, I really like it and um, that’s uh when I feel I’m at my best, and I’d want you to see that side of me.”

“So what does bringing girls to a show look like for you?” you ask nervously, feeling a little twinge of jealousy that he may have done this before with someone else.

“Sweetheart,” he chuckles, “if I was capable of getting girls out in the wild do you think I would’ve signed up for this?” You laugh a little. “Trust me,” he further explains, “This is not something I never imagined I could do before talking to you.”

“Okay, okay, I take it back,” you reply, and you're sure he can hear your smile through the wall. “Let me rephrase,” you say, taking a deep breath, “What does bringing me to a show look like?”

“Well,” he exhales, “I’d pick you up, in my really nice and not sketchy at all van that doesn’t make any questionable noises. I usually drive the guys too but honestly, fuck them, I want us to have time together. I don’t mind telling them to pound sand. And don’t feel bad for them, they’re also kind of assholes.”

You can’t help but giggle, noticing he tends to have that effect on you. He makes you nervous in a really good way, and you try hard to fight it, but you worry that it’s no use. As much as you find yourself really enjoying mystery boy’s company, you can’t help but let that fear creep in that all of this will go away if he ever sees you.

“But anyways,” he continues, “I’ll admit it, I’m a little bit of a show off. And I know if you were there watching me, I’d just like be putting my all into it. I would really try hard to impress you. I’d also want the pricks there to know you’re with me so no one bothers you, so as much as I know you’d hate it, I would point you out and tell the whole place you’re there with me.”

Your face is so warm, and you can’t hold back the cheesy smile that has expanded across your whole face. You can’t believe a guy would be genuinely that proud to have you there with him. You really do think that he’s being genuine, and it makes your heart soar.

“I’m really surprised you don’t have girls fawning over you, rockstar,” you smile, wanting to make him feel special too. Even if this crashes and burns, you can tell he’s a sweet guy. You can see that maybe he’ll let you down gently. You don’t know why your insecurities hold you down this much. You, more than anyone, get in the way of your own happiness. You’re determined to not let it affect you this deeply. You resolve to let yourself see how this goes, and to throw yourself into it- willing to get hurt.

“Trust me,” he scoffs, “I am not what you’re thinking I am. I’m not like that guy, I’m more awkward than anything. I think girls are more interested in the football star guys, the future suits, you know? Guys with a haircut and go to college- They don’t want to waste their time with a going nowhere punk.”

“I really don’t think that’s true,” you speculate, “There’s no one with a poster of Jack Welch on their wall- but every girl I know has a picture of Eddie VanHalen.”

“Is there like a peephole in here or something?” He says jokingly, knocking on the wall, like he’s looking for one. “Or are you just a psychic or something?”

“What are you even talking about?” You chuckle, raising an eyebrow, confused. You shake your head, but before you can’t get clarification, the buzzer sounds, marking the end of your time with him for today.

“NOOO,” you hear him dramatically exhale. A muffled voice, your assuming is one of the lab techs must be exhausted.

You press your hand to the wall, as your form of an intimate goodbye as the technician holds the door open for you. You get up from your spot and head out, excited to come back tomorrow for another round of dates.

Leaving Hawkins Lab, each test subject needs to stagger there exits as to not risk accidentally seeing the other candidates. You are in a small waiting room, doing your daily exit interview with one of the neuroscientists.

***

Under the agreement you signed when you volunteered for the experiment, you are not permitted to go to any locations where people socialize and congregate. You’re not permitted to go anywhere where you may accidentally see or meet one of the other subjects. You are required to only go out on necessary errands such as grocery shopping or appointments.

On the drive back to your apartment, your mind keeps overplaying the worst case scenarios your anxiety keeps conjuring. You know the whole point of the experiment is to see if love, or whatever trumps physical attraction. If hypothetically, someone does fall in love with you- your appearance shouldn’t be a factor. However, it’s not wrong for you to want your partner to be attracted to you. And you acknowledge physical attraction is a thing and if you aren’t someone’s type that isn’t bad either. Your past experiences and unresolved childhood traumas surrounding your appearance and self-esteem, makes it difficult to allow yourself to see that you are actually desirable.

Although unknown to you, a lot of people in this experiment feel the exact same way. Not fitting into the box society wants to slot them in has made dating incredibly difficult for many. There’s a comfort knowing everyone there supposedly wants the same thing as you, just to be loved. You weren’t sure going in that you would even make connections with anyone. At first, it felt like low stakes- worst case scenario you walk away no better off than before. But, you didn’t anticipate actually hitting it off with someone like you have, and it’s opened a whole new set of fears.

***

At his trailer, Eddie just stares up at the vent in the ceiling above his bed. He blows out another puff of smoke and watches as it swirls and wafts up into the air around him. His thoughts are consumed entirely with you. He watches how the smoke from his blunt mixes with the smoke of his burning incense and his mind drifts, just completely fixated on how the minutes on the clock tick by until he can talk to you again.

He wonders if you’re thinking about him, the same way he’s thinking about you. He wonders if you’re trying to picture what he looks like the same way he’s making guesses about you. He thinks about if you smoke, and he imagines what it’d be like if he was sharing this with you. Thinking about what it would look like, your lips around the joint, blowing out smoke from what he imagines is just a sexy mouth. He can’t help but close his eyes and let a little frustrated groan escape at the thought.

He can’t picture the entirety of you, but more so he can imagine just your presence in his room. He imagines the feeling of someone laying beside him, smooth skin he can run his hands across, the warmth radiating off of another body in his bed. He has your voice in his head, wishing you were talking to him now.

With his eyes closed, joint put aside on his ashtray, he imagines it’s your hands tugging down his jeans, and it’s your hand wrapping around his hard cock that’s staining the band of his boxers now. He thinks about your laugh, and that adorable giggle of yours, and how much he can bask in the fact that it’s him who elicits those reactions from you. He thinks about the sweet voice, the flirty fluctuations of your tone when you warmed up to him. He imagines you using that same voice to tease him if you were here, seeing just how much of a mess you’ve made of him.

He’s never been able to get off without some kind of visual aid, so to speak, before. Now, he’s practically whimpering just thinking about the sound of your voice and thinking about your hands on him. He thinks about the feeling of your hands working his length up and down. He imagines how playful it would be, rolling around on this bed with you as the layers you're both wearing come off. He doesn’t even need to try to think about what you look like to feel aroused by you. He doesn’t even care in the slightest at this moment.

He’s so needy, twitching as he feels himself get closer, and he thinks about what you would be whispering in his ear to get him to finish. He imagines the praise, and the way you would be begging for his cum. He realizes he doesn’t even know your name, as he’s hit with the urge to call it out.

“Fuck, pretty girl,” he moans instead, working himself up to his release. He keeps moaning out his little nickname for you until he’s made a mess of his shirt and he’s gasping to catch his breath as his orgasm extracted all the energy from his body.

Tomorrow, he resolves, he needs to learn your name.

PART TWO

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x plus size!reader #eddie munson x plus size!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fan fic #eddie munson stranger things #plussize!reader #eddie munsons x F!reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn characters #joseph quinn stranger things #joseph quinn eddie munson #smut #mutal pining #eddie munson series

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mrsmikaelsxn · 8 months

Text

Promise Forever

masterlist 1k celebration

pairing: gilbert blythe x female reader

warnings: kissing, fluff

summary: after his father's death, gilbert travels the world and when he comes back home, he goes straight to your house to give you a gift - requested by anon

a/n: ugh i agree! the lack of gilbert fics makes me so sad because i love him and want to read more of him )): but thanks for requesting !

song: runaway - aurora

Dating Gilbert was amazing. He was such a lovely guy. Even your parents adored the boy.

He was so sweet, and you two had so much in common it was like you were made for one another.

Unfortunately, his father had gotten sick and later on passed away.

You, of course, were there to comfort him with open arms. When you were at his house one day, he told you that he wanted to explore the world for some time.

As much as it made you upset for him to leave, you supported him, as you always would. You assured him that you would be find, and that it would be a wonderful experience for him.

You spent the night with him, enjoying each other's presence before he left the next day. He promised to write to you about everything and you promised to write anything interesting that happens.

"Ughh," you groan dropping back onto Anne's bed.

You, Anne, Diana, and Cole were hanging out at the redheads house.

"Y/n? What's wrong?" Diana asks.

"I miss Gilbert, it feels like it's been forever," you sigh.

Cole frowns, "Well, he can't be gone for much longer, it's already been months."

Anne nods excitedly, "Exactly!"

You sit up and your mood brightens a bit, "I suppose you're right. Now shall we bake something?"

They nod and giggle as they go downstairs.

"Hi, Marilla!" you smile happily at the elder woman you've grown close with.

"Oh! Hello, dear," she smiles back.

"Hi, Ms. Cuthbert," Diana and Cole wave.

"Hello. What brings you all down here?"

"We were wondering if we can bake your famous apple pie," you clap your hands.

"Oh, how can I say no to apple pie?"

Gilbert runs a hand over his face as he sits on his bed next to Sebastian.

"What is the matter, my friend?"

Gilbert looks over to the man, "I miss my girlfriend," he sighs.

"Girlfriend?" He raises his eyebrows, "Is this the person you are always writing to? The one who send the letters that have you all red in the face."

Gilbert laughs, "Yeah, that would be her."

"Hm," Sebastian taps his knee. "You love this girl?"

Gilbert nods, "Very much so."

"So what are you doing here? Go back to her!"

"But..."

"Gilbert, you are a great boy. You love her and I see how upset you are without her. So go," Sebastian smiles at him.

"You're right," Gilbert falls back onto his bed.

You were reading your book when you heard a knock on your door. "Mom! Who's at the door?!"

She didn't hear you, apparently, because you got no response. You huff and mark your page, putting the book aside.

You get up and run your hands over your dress. You walk downstairs and to the door. You open it and you are crushed by a hug.

"Gilbert!" You squeeze him tightly in a hug. Both of your eyes water and you pull him inside, closing the door behind you. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, darling," he grabs your hands.

"How are you? How was traveling? How come you're back early? How-"

He cuts you off by kissing you softly. You melt into his hold and kiss him back.

You pull away and he grins. "I'm great, now. Traveling was eye opening. And I'm back early because I came home for you. I just got back and I came straight here, I haven't even gone to my own house yet."

"I love you so much," your lips curve into a bright smile.

"I love you so much more," he kisses your head. "I have something for you," he takes something out of his pocket.

You gasp as you look at the beautiful ring in his hand. "Don't worry," he laughs, "it's not an engagement ring. It's a promise ring. To remind you that no matter where I am, we are always forever."

"Oh, Gilbert, it's wonderful. Thank you," you blow out a breath.

He takes your hand and slides it onto your ring finger. He brings your hand up to his face and kisses your palm.

He looks up into your eyes with love, "One day, I'll replace that with a real ring."

#nina writes 🤭💗#nina’s 1k celebration ❣️#anne with an e #gilbert blythe #gilbert blythe x you #gilbert blythe x reader #billy andrews #anne shirly cuthbert #anne shirley #avonlea #london #diana barry #josie pye #ruby gillis #school #gilbert blythe imagine #gilbert blythe fluff #gilbert blythe oneshot #cole mackenzie

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monzabee · 8 months

Text

a not so meet cute – cl16

paper rings, prologue(?)

masterlist || series masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles meets his neighbour, who quickly captures his attention.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none other than charles being charles, also might have some cursing, google translate french

Request: “Hii if you’re taking requests could you please write a fic for Charles where he’s your best friend and he asks you to fake date him because he think he likes another girl so he wants to make her notice him/make her jealous kind of thing and you agree even though you love him and during the fake dating he realises that he loves you too and yeah angst fluff and all but a happy ending .If you decide to write this tysm and incase you don’t feel like writing this that’s cool too thanks either way ❤️”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! although i am still working on the first chapter of this new series, i wanted to write a little something for you guys to introduce you to the world i had in mind! i know it was not on the wip schedule, but the inspiration struck so i decided to go with it. ever since i saw the wedding pictures of margaret qualley and jack antonoff, the only thing i've been thinking of was the song, and i though it was the perfect song for the characters i had in mind. so, welcome to the new series, inspired by the request above, so thank you for the anon who put the idea in my mind to create this whole series, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

August, 2017

He met Margaret on our rooftop, she was wearing white And he was like, "I might be in trouble"

Charles loves his country, he really does. He’s always been patriotic of some sorts, he supposes. But the one thing he absolutely loathes about Monaco? The heat, no questions asked. The worst part isn’t even the heat itself, per se, it is the fact that his apartment has no elevator and he has to walk up five stories just to make it to his apartment – in the heat. So yeah, even though he is as patriotic of a Monégasque as they come, he definitely wishes he was somewhere else at the moment. When he does make to his floor, however, he’s met with a rather peculiar view, where his new neighbour is yelling at someone on the phone.

“No, I said I wanted the granite counters,” the person specify, fingers clutching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “No!” The man straight up yells, “Ceux en granit, connard, pas ceux en graphite. I don’t think they even come in graphite!”

Deciding to remain silent as he makes his way towards his own apartment, Charles ignores the man standing in front of the apartment opposite of his. Though, he realises that the apartment’s door is open and there is construction going on inside, which explains the drilling sounds he’s been hearing early in the morning and the smell of fresh paint that never seems to leave the shared floor.

Side-eyeing the whole ordeal, he manages to make it to his apartment without attracting the attention of the man – or so he thinks. Just as he’s about to unlock his front door, he feels a pat on his shoulder. As he turns towards the man, there is a curious look on his face, “Hi?”

“Hello,” the man greets, “do you know how i can contact the superintendent?”

For reasons unknown (extreme hangover), Charles’ brain decides to blank out, “Quoi?”

“Le commissaire,” the man clarifies, “savez-vous comment je peux les contacter?” And Charles realises he would have been impressed with the man’s accent if he wasn’t so hangover from the night before. The superintendent, do you know how I can contact them?

“Ah,” Charles nods in understanding, “sure, let me give you his number.”

After the man saves the number he gives to his phone, he extends his hand in a friendly greeting. “I owe you one, I’m Declan, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Charles,” he responds with, what he hopes to be, a friendly smile. Motioning the apartment behind them, he asks, “Are you my new neighbour?”

“Oh, no, no,” Declan laughs, and it’s a warm, almost infectious laugh. It reminds Charles of– well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Declan’s voice draws him back to the conversation, “My sister is, I’m renovating it for her.”

Charles nods in understanding, “Ah, I see. I’ve never seen her around, I don’t think.”

“Well that’d be because she’s as annoying as little sisters come,” Declan laughs again, and this time it manages to get a smile out of Charles. “You know what? We’re actually having a small party at my place tonight, why don’t you come?”

“You’ve just met me,” Charles points out, voicing his confusion, “you really want to invite me to your house?”

“Pish posh,” Declan waves him off, already starting to walk back to his sister’s apartment “I’ll send you the details, bring alcohol!”

Charles tries to come up with excuses to give Declan when he’s a no show at the party, but all the excused he come up with sounding either shitty, entitled or just a mess in general. So he convinces himself to get ready after a much needed shower, and remembers to pick up a bottle of tequila on his way to the address Declan texted him earlier that day. Considering the amount of cars parked in front of the apartment complex, Charles thinks whether it’s going to be a ‘small’ party as Declan put earlier, but he manages to find a place to park his car, nonetheless. Surprisingly, it’s not hard to find which apartment belongs to his new ‘friend’, as the people he seems to keep literally bumping into give him directions which lead him to the top floor – he thinks, like brother like sister, huh?

“Ah, bienvenu, Charles!” Declan greets him as he enters the apartment, filled with more people than he honestly expected; but hey, they are in Monte Carlo after all.

Because he was raised by his mother, Charles replies, “Merci de me recevoir,” but because he is Charles, he finds himself reverting easily to French. Of course, he soon realises that his new friend has no trouble understanding him.

“Of course, ma maison est ta maison.” With a wide smile that reaches his eyes, he takes the bottle Charles offer him and pats his shoulder in a friendly manner, “Good lad, let me put this in the kitchen and we’ll find my sister together. I suppose she’s here somewhere.”

Giving him a firm nod, Charles is suddenly left alone to gaze around the living area. He quickly realises that he’s not the only one who is particularly patriotic as he comes face to face with the Union Jack on the wall, proudly displayed on the wall, seems to tell a story of cultural connections and a home away from home. He’s also, somehow, met with a very eccentric group of people, who seem to be insistent on having him join their various conversation – which he does his best to partake in.

As he chats with a group of fellow partygoers, he notices Declan making his way through the crowd toward him. “Charles,” he says with an apologetic smile, “sorry for that, let’s go.”

As they move through the apartment, Charles catches glimpses of the décor, which can only be described as eclectic, but what he realises that Declan made sure to fill up his walls with all kinds of memories; from photographs of what Charles thinks is his family to his diplomas, to even famous artwork – he’s not sure whether the Warhol he just passed by is real or not, but he supposes it’s probably the first option. They arrive at a corner of the rooftop terrace where a cozy seating area is arranged. A few guests are engaged in animated discussions, while others lounge comfortably, enjoying the ambiance. However, it doesn’t take either him or Declan to realise that his sister is, in fact, not with the group.

Though, it doesn’t take the latter to spot his sister, mumbling with a wince under his breath, and when Charles follows Declan's gaze to find her engaged in a rather animated discussion with a man who looks both frustrated and slightly bewildered by her. “Poor guy.”

“Seems like she's keeping him entertained.” Charles offer, careful with his words, and also quite confused at the man’s reactions to whatever Declan’s sister seems to be saying.

“Eh, sisters.” Declan shrugs, and motions Charles to follow him.

As they approach their corner of the terrace, her voice becomes clearer, and Charles can overhear snippets of the conversation. “I just don’t understand why we can’t print more money,” she says in an airy voice.

The man she's speaking to rubs his temples, clearly grappling with how to respond. “Well, it's not that simple. Printing more money can lead to inflation and devalue the currency.” He takes a moment to think, then, “Think of it like shoes–”

“Okay,” Declan laughs nervously as he places himself between the two, turning to the other man with a kind smile, “I think we’re done here, mate, she’s playing you. She’s an econ major, sorry for that.” Though Charles can’t see the expression on her face, he imagines there’s some sort of a victorious smile as she waves the man away, “Stop emasculating my friends, please.”

“Well choose better friends, and I won’t,” she shrugs, following his brother’s movements as he makes his way back near Charles, she turns towards him as the white dress she’s wearing sways gently in the evening breeze. There’s a surprised look on her face when she realises and they are not alone, “Um, hi.”

With a playful grin, Declan points to Charles and turns to his sister, “This is Charles, your new neighbour, and Charles, this is my sister–”

Bambi.

It’s the only word that comes to Charles’ mind when he sees your eyes and a friendly smile you give to him, “Nice to meet you, Charles.”

His eyes fall down to your extended hand, and he scrambles to regain his composure, taking your hand and shaking it gently. “Uh, yes, nice to meet you too.”

With an unexpected clap from your brother, which has both you and Charles jumping slightly, you turn to him with a glare, “Well, now that you know each other, I’ll leave you to get acquainted. And you,” he points to you which elicits a raised eyebrow from you, “don’t scare him off, and for God’s sake change this music.”

“What’s wrong with ABBA?” You ask with a small pout already forming on your lips.

“We need a change,” Charles watches with a silent chuckle as Declan starts walking back towards the kitchen, “ergo, change it!”

“Well that was an interesting exit,” you mumble, eyes following your brother until he’s out of both your and Charles’ views. Afterwards, you turn your attention back to the man standing in front of you, “What do you think about The Smiths?”

“Who?” Charles asks you, confusion written on his face.

“Not The Who,” you nudge him slightly, chuckling softly, though your laughter dies down once you realise he’s really confused. “I– The Smiths, Charles! To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die,” you softly sing, but he replies with a small shake of his head, and a shrug. “Oh, I love The Smiths! Come on, you have a lot to learn.”

As you grab him by his wrist to guide him back inside the apartment, I might be in trouble, he thinks to himself. And then, you turn around to give him a full smile, with a glint of mischief in your eyes that he can't quite interpret, and say, “I can already feel that we are going to be very good friends.”

And then he knows, he’s definitely in trouble.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

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boiohboii · 10 months

Text

The trophy boyfriend Pt4.

The one where the world is in flames due to Daniel's announcement, however Kim Y/N won't let her boyfriend, now fiance, upstage her.

People think they have lost Carlos to a different type of WAG only to find out Daniel Ricciardo is the one who is not coming back.

In which f1 fans are introduced to a South Korean chaebol and now they want to fight her rumored boyfriend...... but he is only her childhood friend while his friend is her fiance.

N.B: one more part till the end of this small series. I hope you liked it and thank you so much for reading ♥️♥️ I hope you had fun here!

PART 3

Liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, landonorris and 985,820 others

KimJeonwoo: Hello, this is actually Kim Y/N. While I have made it known to Daniel and our close ones that I absolutely and am madly and deeply in live with him, I think it is only fair that I acknowledge his post on this platform as well, however I will not be unlocking any of my personal profiles as they are just that- personal. I hope that you will understand that I am not one to share much publicly.

Daniel, from the day I saw you on that floor I knew I was going to find you again. People say that when you meet someone you will know, and I never believed in that superstition. How was that even possible? How was I just supposed to look at someone and decide that I will spend the rest of my life with them? But then I saw you, sprawled out on the floor with your hand reaching to me, I was and still am not the most social person so all I could do was nod at you and then go on my way, certain that I will meet you, after all, all of those sayings seemed true; I just knew you were the one in that moment.

On that first date I knew that I was going to have to share you with the world. On the second date I knew that I wanted you by my side for as long as you will have me for. And on the third date I was already picking our rings.

I was nervous on that night, I was scared that you wouldn't want to get married now, after all our schedules are ever so changing and our careers do not seem to have a meeting point. I am always nervous around you, you make me feel like I can be anything and anyone and you would still love me all the same.

I love you, you are the one who colored my life with arcades, forts, karts and jokes. You are the one who taught me to accept mistakes, to not get too caught up on the past.

They say marriage is hard, that you need to love a person for the rest of your lifetime, but I don't think these people knew what love is, if they did marriage would've been the easiest thing for them. Everytime I look at you, everytime I hear your voice i fall in love with you all over again, I fall and I will always keep falling for you, only you.

I swear that I will do you right, I will respect and cherish you, I will keep falling in love with you everyday even if I can no longer see you or hear you. You will always be my sun, my laughter and my joy. You will always be my first and last love.

Thank you for the years of bliss, the years where my heart stopped- only to beat again at the sound of your voice, the years that were full of delightful memories. And to all the years that are yet to come, always remember that I am forever yours my darling, till my very last breath.

~comments on this post have been disabled~

{Taglist: @laneyspaulding19 @iamahallucinationnn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @miiikkeey @ceeesxy-blog}

#f1 instagram au #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 x oc #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo social media au #daniel ricciardo x ofc #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 3 months

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Yandere Radioactive Apocalypse

The constant upset and warring provinces have prepared the world for the worst. Before the blowout, many thought it wise to pay for a bunker for the oncoming atomic apocalypse. Most of the population couldn’t afford to do so, let alone believe that it would be needed.

They’d be wrong.

Whether you are one of the unsuspecting public or a passive believer, average day life doesn’t have you safely tucked in a bunker when the initial alarms go off. You are smooshed against others in a large crowd all watching and listening in awe. But the moment one person screams it's all over. The crowd twists and turns pulling you in no specific direction. As the final alarms ring out an arm pulls you through the chaotic crowd and into a bunker full of others reeling at the recent events. So here you find that you are trapped safely in the stifling and well-furnished Atomic Bunker.

“Who pulled me in here?”

“Does it matter! You survived the initial blast, didn’t you? Ungrateful twat.”

“No need to be hostile, little brother. It's natural to be vexed after watching the world end. Right in front of you.”

“Oh, all those poor souls!”

“My lady, your handkerchief.”

“My baby! My baby! I didn’t grab them! Oh, my poor baby!”

“There there, we’re all very shaken up—”

“B-b-b-but y-y-y-your still smiling—.”

“We are all dealing with the pain in different ways. But let's all take a breather and relax.”

“You don’t sound all that upset to me either.”

“I can say the same thing to you, but I guess you’re just happy to be off the streets, right?’

“Oi!”

Hearing the cacophony of such a colorful cast distracts from the initial fear. Their voices remind you that you're not suffering like the rest of those unfortunate people. They allow you to cry with an audience of fellow mourners and those who can keep calm easily. Before you can let the silence set in, they pull you back with their bickering. It's always either one or two of them that is always voicing their concerns. There’s always a voice of reason, something you’re grateful for as you desperately search for a distraction.

“Everyone! I believe introductions are in order! I am the middle child of the Penz household as well as the main manager of the bunker.”

With a blonde head of hair and a funky sense of style, his smile persists. Uvil Penz is an interesting guy as you’ll come to find. Aside from smiling during the ongoing onslaught of atomic warfare he always has a way of looking on the bright side for better or worse.

“Oh, my baby!”

“Now please miss dry your tears, there are plenty of toys down here to distract yourself with.”

His optimism is surely unique as you can’t quite place where it may stem from. On one hand, you could see it as an unemotional response with an attempt to soothe. But you’ll see him laugh genuinely or offer insight into a person’s emotions. On the other hand, it may come from a sly condescending perspective. It fits right along with his brothers’ behavior. But the way he works to compliment you often, attempting to keep your spirits high, or how he’ll make a request for your favorite foods to be scavenged makes you think otherwise.

“(Y/n)?”

“Huh? Uh yeah?”

“Did ya know: you’re gorgeous even with those tear streaks on your face.”

“What?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I think you really needed to hear that now.”

Or maybe that’s just you because you have a hard time believing Uvil trying to be soothing when he’s smiling widely after making someone cry. But it's hard to be decisive about liking or disliking the blonde as he could very well be the one who grabbed your wrist and pulled you in. On top of that, he allows everyone to stay even as opportunity knocks on the bunker door. As long as you don’t mind his ever-present smile and disconnected sympathy life will be great.

“I, Uvil Penz welcome you to the Penz bunker. Now little brother, go on. Introduce yourself.”

“Eugh! Get off me! Ugh, my name’s William and I know this bunker better than anyone else. So better learn to respect me!”

He’s certainly not like his brother. At least not on the surface. With black short hair and a disgusted sneer constantly on his face. He doesn’t bother comforting anyone at least not in the typical way. Any advice or comfort is said through gritted teeth or with an annoyed click of his tongue.

“Look, if yer gonna keep crying do it in one of the soundproof rooms. You're bothering those of us who want to think!”

Not to mention he’s the first to point out your insecurities or make fun of you for grieving at all. Don’t worry you’re not the only one, he goes just as hard if not harder on everyone else. Making sure everyone is well aware that the whole group knows of their problems. Usually snickering or outright laughing at whoever he’s decided to victimize. At one point, everyone will be annoyed with him. As much as he loves to boast about it he is the only one who knows how to maintain the bunker.

“Gosh, you are such a pain in the–”

“Don’t forget who knows how to start up the generator…so unless you want to enjoy life without lights, you’ll put your fists down.”

“Ugh! Fine.”

“Thank you…meathead.”

“YOU LITTLE-”

Despite his arrogance, his snarky jabs, and the weirdly endearing way he seeks you out the atomic apocalypse wouldn’t be the same without him. For as annoying and degrading as he may be, he’s still willing to share his switch with you when you’re feeling particularly bored. Making sure you can’t see his face when he pokes the controller against your cheek.

“Come on. You’re bored aren’t you?”

“You…want me to play with you?”

“Well duh! So…are you?”

“I-I’d love to!”

Not to mention he knows the cheat codes to all the games in the arcade room. And if you do him small favors he’ll share his limited edition ramen with you. Now he may ask for your undergarments or your toothbrush but that’s nothing in the endless days spent in the bunker. After all, it's better than the atomic aftermath out there and according to the only Penz willing to go out there, you wouldn’t last a day.

“Well, my introduction’s done. Marc!”

“Yeah yeah, ‘sup everyone. I’m Marco.”

The eldest of the Penz brothers is concerningly nonchalant from the very beginning of your stay in the bunker. With his girlfriend on his arm and an easy-going attitude, he doesn’t really bother to comfort anyone other than her. Except maybe you.

“Hey didn’t take you for a late-night snacker. You okay?”

“I’m—fine, excuse me.”

“Whoa whoa, lil’ bunny. Don’t run away just yet, the wolf has questions.”

“Please just–I’ll go back to the room.”

“Nah-ah sit bunny.”

“But you took the only chair.”

“Right here, bunny. We’ve got all night.”

Supposedly, he was quite the womanizer before he got with his current girlfriend. Will makes a point to mention it anytime anyone you is found flustered or flattered by his attention. Even so, he doesn’t let that stop him from caging you against the bunker walls to ask for something. Or teasing you when he retrieves something from outside the bunker.

“Come on just grab it.”

“Why are you holding it there? Just hand it to me normally!”

“So rude. I don’t feel like complying with a fussy bunny who doesn’t use their words.”

“Ugh! Fine. Please just hand it to me normally.”

“Ha no.”

“WHY NOT?!”

“It’s perfectly fine just grab it, babe. I don’t mind if you touch me along the way.”

For all his teasing and carefree behavior, he’s a good scavenger. Able and willing to brave the atomic wasteland when the bunker needs supplies. He’s strong and prepared to take on any unruly travelers who come by or intervene during scavenger hunts.

He’s not all that opinionated when it comes to debates in the bunker. More excited to grab a snack and watch the chaos unfold. Smiling lightly as things get heated and tensions rise. In that way, he’s like an idle NPC but the second his boundaries are crossed then you have to deal with the rare and angry Will.

“C-calm down Will…y-your not going to k-kill him right?”

“He’s the one who thought inviting our bunker-mates to play in that wasteland was a good idea.”

“Honey, it’s okay! (Y/n) didn’t actually go, right? So it’s okay, right Fin?”

“Yes, my lady is correct.”

It’s just better for everyone that no one gets on his bad side. And that everyone doesn’t mess with the things that make him happy: His peace, his girlfriend's peace, and your peace the happiness of specific bunker mates.

“Oh yeah, this my girl.”

“Um hello everyone. My name is Aria, Aria Mensloth. Marco was the one who brought me here.”

“Lucky you, I bet he’s the only one willing.”

“...Oh uhm yes I am quite grateful. I hope we can all get along.”

Aria is the sheltered blue-haired girlfriend of the eldest Penz brother. Opposites attract because, despite his immense uncaring personality, she’s generally more caring. Trying to check up on everyone she can even if her privileged life brings more misunderstandings than intended.

“You seem upset, is it perhaps because you skipped breakfast this morning?”

“Uh no.”

“Oh well, for me this is a bigger change from the usual three-course breakfast I’m used to.”

“Okay…”

“Do you not know what that is like?”

She has the best intentions but she’s still learning. Too bad for her the ones in this bunker she is familiar with don’t bother correcting her or informing her unless directly asked. Her boyfriend would sooner chuckle and play with her hair than fill in the blanks. Her butler refuses to say much else than what is needed. So guess who she decides to attach herself to? You, of course. You're the most normal lovely bunker mate around and you don’t immediately insult her when she seeks to shadow you as you navigate your life in the bunker.

“Ah, so you pick your own clothes out. How fascinating!”

“Uhm Aria don’t you do the same?”

“Oh no, my butler picks everything out for me. It’s always been that way.”

“Oh…Would you want to try picking out your own clothes, sometime?”

“For myself? Oh no, I’m far too inexperienced….but maybe I could help pick out your outfits!”

“Wait–”

“Does that sound like a good idea, Butler Fin? Can we do it?”

“I see no problem with that my lady.”

“Oh good!”

As Will’s girlfriend, she’s an important person to keep happy. Wouldn’t want to deny her, especially when her beloved boyfriend is working so hard for the rest of the bunker. Not to mention her butler with an ominous gaze who is more than willing to exact her every wish. No matter how invasive it is to your privacy. You’ll have to be careful with your words. Wouldn’t want to make her cry...right?

“Aria, don’t.”

“Ari! Call me Ari!”

“Ari sorry okay! I just don’t want to bathe with you, so please get off.”

“Y-you’re not trying to leave me, are you?! Didn’t Uvil tell us not to waste any supplies!? So please let me join!”

For as pushy as Aria can be, calling her out on her behavior or offering to tattle on her to her boyfriend usually gets her off your back. But where she lacks persistence, her butler makes up for it.

“Hello everyone, I am the Mensloth Butler Finster. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Finster or Fin, is like any depiction of a dutiful butler come to life. Even with the threat of the atomic apocalypse, he’s still maintaining his mistress throughout. He doesn’t talk much outside of responding to Aria and occasionally the Penz brothers.

“...”

“Look butler-man, if you’re goin’ to make breakfast why not feed us all?”

“...”

“Butler Fin.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Can you make breakfast for Will, (Y/n), and me?”

“Yes, of course, my lady.”

“Wow….really?!”

You’ll find when he’s alone he can speak without addressing his mistress only when he wants to. But he seems to enjoy your company, especially during the night cycle when Aria is fast asleep. He smiles openly with you, cracking jokes about the day he appeared numb to before.

“Well, it seems as though you were right about them. Fighting with each other like chickens in a coop.”

“Right? I thought I’d be the only one who noticed.”

“Please your observations are hardly wrong, it helps that we can talk like this with each other. Helps us remember how to communicate. I really appreciate that you’re willing to.”

“Oh uh, no problem I like talking to you too..”

“No, thank you (Y/n). I doubt I could hold any level of sanity if it weren’t for you.”

When push comes to shove, he is capable of holding his own in a debate. His actions can be interpreted as that of a selfless and devoted butler. But it can also be read as that of someone with their own agenda—something practically impossible to decipher by his behavior alone.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for (Y/n) to leave the bunker, either.”

“Y-your actually s-s-speaking? On your own?”

“Well, I bet it’s only because he wants his master lady to not cry like a baby!”

“Was that your intention, Finnster?”

“...My lady, is my top priority at all times.”

It’s a nice illusion though, that he’d be a somewhat normal character, considering he’s often the only one whom you can hold a normal conversation with, without walking away thinking he’s obsessed with you. But his actions do. Oftentimes, watching his behavior without his explanation would make anyone worry.

“Excuse me?”

“I just wanted to ask about you pushing Aria that one time. Why would you do that?”

“Push? Push?! Oh no you’ve got it all wrong, I was attempting to support her back as we looked at the sewer. She did lose her footing but as you saw Marco and I caught her all the same.”

“Oh okay sorry, for misjudging.”

“It’s fine, though I’d be quick to forgive if you joined in some baking with me.”

Always good at conversation, and always willing to help, Butler Finn is a friend to confide in. Someone to talk to about the odd behaviors and conversations you've had with others. One of the other ones you can talk to about this would be your resident walking encyclopedia.

“H-h-h-hi e-e-everyone I’m S-S-Simpson G-G-g-gron, Will b-b-brought me here.”

He’s like a stereotype incarnated, listing off all sorts of facts you would have never found yourself dedicated to remembering. With a stutter at the beginning of every sentence, Simpson refuses any sort of leadership, very similar to Will’s approach. Rather than having a bonafide position to argue when debates happen he prefers to chime in with what he knows for sure.

“Look, the sooner we head out. The sooner we can all actually eat something real.”

“But you realize what the risk of leaving may mean, right?”

“The world burned away! Yeah, I got it.”

“A-a-a-actucally I think Uvil sir is r-r-referring to radiation posioning.”

“What?!”

“The atomic b-b-b-bomb is not only the bringer of destruction, b-b-b-but a disease bringer.”

When he’s not bringing up important information he’s hanging around Will, stuttering a lot less and talking technically with one another. While Will is prickly, he’s able to properly articulate what he knows while also hurting your feelings. Simpson on the other hand…just can’t. It’s something you’ll try working with him on but once he gets going he just can’t stop.

“Okay let’s try this—why should I consider learning code?”

“Well…i-i-it’ll help y-y-y-you understand the programs you use the m-m-m–m-m-most?”

“Good. Now how so?”

“Well..learningtheintricaciesofcodingwillnotonlyallowyoutomanipulateyourownprograms–”

“Okay—now hold on–”

“Butintheendlearningthecodecsnotonlyallowanyonetoknowthesourcesofthewebsitesthatfunctionwithai–”

“Hey-wait!”

“IsitnotwisetolearnwhattheoneswhowillsurvivethistragedyworkthroughyoureyeslookasenchantingaseverAnywaythereallanguagetheyworkwithnowisbinarycodebutthatshouldn’tbe.”

“And there he goes.”

The real advantage of this though is his ability to return the favor of listening to his rambles. He happily listens to yours and comes with questions you’d only find yourself answering in an imaginary interview. But the adoring indigo-green gaze behind those iconic square glasses makes it impossible not to appreciate him. Not to mention, he and Will are the only two who religiously compete with you in the arcade room.

“Ack–that move is illegal!”

“Actually it's quite the opposite, really. This is the rule within the actual manual of the game’s lore–”

“Yeah, (Y/n) don’t be a crybaby you didn’t do your studying.”

“But you hid all the gaming manuals from me!”

“Well, you are the one who bet something unspecified of yours. It would be unwise not to sabotage you.”

“Ack-! To be admitting it so openly!”

“No use lying about our tactics now that we are guaranteed a win.”

As the most obvious voice of reason, it isn’t a bad idea to be in his good graces. It also makes it harder to believe your own observations when you listen to his. Able to look at the bigger picture while you only have your snapshot or so he says.

“But doesn’t this kind of product, have dire consequences for eating past the expiration date? And wasn’t there some craze about the aphrodisiac effects it has?”

“That’s a widely spread misconception, the craze was actually about the dopamine rush from the expired product.”

“Really? I’m pretty sure I remember the fanfics celebrating the stuff.”

“You are mistaken!”

“Uh okay.”

So if there’s anyone to rely on it’d be him. He may not be able to care for you as well as some of the others in the bunker. Or be as concerned as others but he’s trying his best. Of course, others may not even heed any of his efforts. Then again some of them hold themselves very highly.

“Oh, my baby!”

“Miss are you okay to talk or–”

“My name’s Henrietta Spitz! What’s your name?”

“Uhm (Y/n).”

“(Y/n)! Oh (Y/n) I’m so sad!”

Henrietta is probably one of the oddest characters in the bunker. Known as the distraught young mother who was dragged in by one of the…good samaritans within the bunker. If you aren’t swallowed by grief you’ll be swallowed by hers because she doesn’t let anyone forget what she’s gone through.

“Wahhh~(Y/n) can I sleep with you?!”

“Uhm why would you need to?”

“I used to sleep with my baby at night. It’d just help me loads if your warm soft body next to mine.”

“Just like your…baby?”

“Yes, just like them~!”

But when she’s not wailing into your chest about her lost child, she’ll start up with a new…grieving routine. One that revolves around you drinking her milk…right from the tap that is. You want to argue with her–put a stop to this weird practice that she seems deadset that you be the only participant. But she cries aaalllll the time. If she isn’t set on fussing over you or forcing you to ‘help’ her grieving she whines and screams bothering everyone in the bunker. So you’ll take one for the team…right?

“I-I have milk for everyone!”

“ We have rations Miss so it's not an issue.”

“B-b-but we might run out! It’ll stop coming if it’s not drunken up!”

“Then perhaps the breast pump you had in your bag would be helpful.”

“B–b-but to keep this up I need to have a hungry mouth on there. It just won’t be the same.”

On top of that, her fleeting sadness for her child seems to conveniently leave her countenance the second it’s too inconvenient. It’s not all that obvious at first, easily being written off as her healing grief. But when she uses it for her own agenda so obviously it’s a little hard to take her seriously.

“STOP CLINGING TO (Y/N)!”

“Nooo! I want them to spend time with me!”

“It isn’t healthy to keep them locked up in your room like this. And (Y/n) you want to leave, don’t you? Finally, get to stretch your legs?”

“Yeah, I–”

“You can’t!”

“Why not?”

“I-I-I-My baby!?”

“What?”

“If you leave, the thoughts of my baby will come back and I just can’t bear it. (Y/n) please!”

Some will argue that what she’s doing is projecting her idea of her baby onto you. That she’s stuck in a psychosis that revolves around the one who she feels is meek enough to baby. But a grieving mother who would be projecting wouldn't do what she does. Everyone grieves differently but it’s the nature of her advancements that might lead anyone to suspect she’s not as motherly as she seems.

“Oh~(Y/n)~!”

“Yes?”

“Did you know something else my baby did?”

“Uhm what?”

“They’d let me wash them all over. And give kisses to me–”

“Okay.”

“On the mouth with an open mouth!”

“Okay? And?!”

It raises some concerning questions and speculations about her story. And how she was able to make it inside the bunker when everyone separately admits they did no such thing as lead her in. Or how she often mixes up the name of the child she seems so stuck on grieving.

At the end of the day, she’s friendly to you…and maybe only you. She’s quick with her own insults the second anyone goes to question her or make their suspicions known. That and she seems to wryly refer to some hidden piece of information that keeps everyone from encroaching on her behavior.

With all that being said. She’s definitely not one to forget for her attention to you, barely rivaled by the self-appointed scavenger and protector of you+ the bunker.

“I’m Grant and that’s all you need to know for now. I’ve got questions.”

“Ask a way, Grant.”

“Why do you even have this big of a bunker?”

“Is it so bad that we thought of comfort before the world’s end?”

“...I don’t buy it.”

If there was someone you’d expect to be the main character of some dystopian novel it’d be him. Cynical, confident, and muscled like no other, he becomes the bunker’s prime protector. Despite openly not trusting the Penz brothers he is the first to demand they do something when problems arise. While he’ll sooner croak than admit he relies on them, he does often light the fire for action from the prickly trio.

“So what are you going to do about this?”

“Hm? Are you acknowledging me as the leader now?”

“No, but if everyone else has already I’d rather not rock the boat.”

“How benevolent of you!”

“Grrr.”

Hotheaded but not impulsive Grant becomes a significant facet of the group. Especially since the bunker needs more supplies. Brave and bold enough he’s willing to dawn the Hazmat suit and venture into the rumored wasteland that remains. It helps that he goes out of his way to help you settle and find your stance as the world goes through change.

“Hey. Here's some of the stuff I brought back. From the address you gave me.”

“Grant! This is-! I’m so surprised it even survived!”

“There wasn’t too much left but it was small enough and I thought it would survive the cleaning process.”

“Grant, really thank you!”

“...I-it’s no problem, you’re just lucky the blast didn’t damage it all too much.”

You’ll find he’s a compassionate guy at heart hardened by some terrible past he occasionally alludes to. But that harsh exterior tends to make up most of his image. Which can often lead to the group having…misconceptions about his personality.

“For a stupid delinquent that guy’s awful complex.”

“Speak for yourself! He keeps trying to tell me what to do!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! He said the time I spend hanging out with (Y/n) is unhealthy! What a nosy brat, criticizing my grieving process.”

“...Whatever."

The animosity for certain members of the bunker would become all too clear for you as the days pass. Such behavior is natural for those trapped in the same tight quarters. The same tight quarters that you can’t seem to leave; forced to watch these characters destroy themselves as they fight over something you.+

“Oh, guess it's my turn my name’s–”

“We’re happy you're here (Y/n).”

“Yes, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you!”

“Nice to make your acquaintance.”

“We are all happy to meet you, (Y/n)!”

“Pft, suck-ups. Welcome, I guess.”

“I-I-I-I-I hope w-w-we can be close.”

“Oh (Y/n), you remind me so much of my lost little love! C’mere!”

“Hey Guys! Give them space!”

The coming months will certainly be almost as chaotic as the world’s declining state. With your new family den of lions, surely there’s a sliver of a chance that you’ll thrive in the radioactive apocalypse.

It’s best you start documenting your adventure now….

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misc-obeyme · 4 months

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So uh. Lesson 38. Man I swear it was just yesterday I was writing the post about Lesson 37?! Augh.

Okay, spoilers below, and be prepared 'cause it was another CRAZY CRAZY LESSON. No I didn't take another 100 screenshots why would you think that? Also I apologize, this is another rather unhinged post.

OKAY NEW THEORY.

"Father" is Nightbringer! Right?!? Tell me I'm not alone in thinking this might be the case!!

Okay, so maybe not, but we had so much Father talk this lesson!! Way more than any other, I'd say!

And I hated it?!?

Okay lemme backtrack a bit.

So, we got Lucifer in ice and chains and he's yelling at his Father saying what do you want, you never tell me anything, give me a sign!

And then he breaks out of his chains, but he's completely out of control! And then DIAVOLO shows up.

SIR. There is just something about Diavolo in full demon form, getting all angry and ready to fight... But I don't think I've ever seen Diavolo with an ominous aura like that?? I can't remember for sure, but I swear it doesn't happen too often. Anyway, he straight up fights with Lucifer to try to calm him down.

The girls are fighting! I didn't crop this bottom image as much as I usually do because I need you all to see how BIG these two are in their full demon forms like this. All those wings...

Note that the angels and MC are watching all of this from the sidelines... and then Simeon blesses MC and I am in love with him and his beautiful face.

YOU are the only one making me swoon at the moment though.

Anyway, then all the bros show up and save the day! I was like yeah, that checks out. Lucifer & Diavolo are going at it and MC tries to get in the way, but it's not enough until all the others show up, too. As soon as Lucifer sees his brothers are all right, he calms down.

Asmo suggests a hug and Lucifer AGREES. They have a group hug where Lucifer is clearly pulling everyone into it himself. He apologizes to MC (!!) and THEN as if all this wasn't enough, MC's ring starts to glow and Lucifer turns into his angel form!!

Once again uncropped so you can see this ridiculous mf and all his wings.

Diavolo is smitten.

And he kneels!!!!!!

He kneels to Lucifer in angel form!!!! And all the others do too!!!!!

I lost my goddamn mind at this part. And Lucifer's like I don't understand why is this happening? And Simeon is like, "he" heard you and this is your answer. He wants you to feel his love and his forgiveness and blah blah blah (I'm paraphrasing). But I need to tell you all this even though I don't normally go into this much detail and here is why.

FUCK THAT GUY.

This is "his" way of showing Lucifer that he loves him?!?!

Diavolo, get off your knees, you are not helping this situation!!!

Okay, okay, let me calm down.

Here is why this bothers me so much. And please note that this just my personal opinion and the way it all came off to me! I'm totally open to hearing other opinions on it.

I hate this because it makes no sense. This is the same Father that was going to kill Lilith, the same one who allowed the brothers and Lucifer, the one he supposedly loves so much, to fall in the first place.

I don't care if Michael is the one behind everything. If their Father guy can do this, then there's no way he couldn't also prevent all of this.

The only way I'm going to give him a chance at all is if they somehow make it so that he can't do much at all. He's trapped or something. Michael is truly the mastermind behind it all and Father is doing what he can from where he is (like imprisoned or something).

Because otherwise, this makes no sense.

AND WASN'T I RIGHT?? It turned out that the whole thing was orchestrated by the Celestial Realm AND the Devildom! The three worlds have an agreement - powerful beings can be imprisoned in Cocytus for their crimes if at least two representatives out of three agree. One from the Celestial Realm did. This was confirmed by Simeon, who went back briefly to ask Michael. However, Michael wouldn't tell him who did it.

NO. You can't be content with that! Michael obviously knows who it was!! So why would he protect them?? Or is he protecting himself?!?

And then someone from the Devildom did, too! But instead of just being like oh well, guess it's a mystery, Diavolo blames himself and says he's doing everything he can to find out who did it. My money is on the House of Lords.

So they were in cahoots, as I suspected!

Anyway, I just don't understand what all of this was supposed to accomplish for Lucifer's character. If they want to make us question the Celestial Realm, then yo I was already on that train! This whole situation certainly makes Michael look very suspicious. And Lucifer goes on and on later about how he must have forgotten about his father's love and blah blah. And I'm like what???

Also this whole part where Lucifer was dreaming or whatever and the brothers were angels:

Levi says "Our orders always come through Michael." That's the crux of this whole thing. We don't know enough about the state of "Father" to really know for sure.

Again, if it turns out that "Father" isn't terrible and somehow had no say in all the bad things that are happening and was truly trying to help Lucifer, then fine. I can accept that. But from where things are right now, it seems more like "Father" can't let Lucifer go and in this case, that's making things worse for Luci.

Do you really think giving Lucifer back his angel form long enough for everyone to be in awe and even make Diavolo kneel is somehow helping him? Because I disagree. Leave Lucifer alone already.

Though he then passes out and sleeps for quite a while.

And oh! Okay, here is my favorite part hee hee:

Obviously I squealed a lil when he showed up! They were all stuck in Cocytus and couldn't figure out how to get home. And someone was like "if only Barbatos could portal us home" and then this happened.

My knight in shining armor 😭

He's so practical. I'm in love with him.

Then we make a pact with Lucifer. AND THIS MOTHERFUCKER.

Flashbacks to the OG, anyone?? I guess he would still lie to himself like this, we are in the past after all. And I think he genuinely believes that MC is his at first. What a delusional simp he turns out to be, though, huh?

And then!!

Cocytus Hall is destroyed because of course it was named that due to being built on top of the entrance to Cocytus. What was the point of that exactly? Why wasn't it just Purgatory Hall from the start?? I don't know.

Hard Lesson:

Diavolo, Barbatos, Mephisto, and all the Little Ds are discussing the destruction of Cocytus Hall and that's when we find out they rebuild it into Purgatory Hall.

We also see Little D No 1 who makes an appearance for the first time. Barbatos says he wasn't able to maintain a physical form up until now. Diavolo speculates it's because their "Father" couldn't let Lucifer go before.

I do not understand this "Father" at all. I'm so confused about it and it's making me crazy (in case you couldn't tell).

Yeah, we got to make a pact with Lucifer. We got to kiss him. It's heavily implied we did some other stuff with him, too.

But this lesson was mostly about Father and his love and to me that all seemed to come out of freakin' nowhere. Especially since last I checked, it was Father who caused all of this bullshit to begin with???

I don't actually think "Father" is Nightbringer, but wouldn't that be interesting? Father of all demons is also the father of all angels? Why would they be different entities? Maybe they're two halves of the same whole? Maybe they're siblings?

I just don't know.

Yeah that's how I felt when Simeon and the angels were like okay see ya we're going back to the Celestial Realm! It's okay, Barb saved us. At least he seems to be chill about things.

And Solomon told the brothers he wasn't going to take MC back to the human world right away, so it's not the end yet. But can we go back now? I want to! I swear by now, I'd have confronted Barbatos because I think he knows what's going on and couldn't he just take me back to the present without all these other shenanigans? And make Solomon come back with me too, obviously. In fact, past!Barb can come too. You can never have too many Barbs!

Okay I'm devolving into nonsense. I just don't know how I feel about any of this. It's not making sense and I really hope that the next lesson clears some of this up for me.

#oof sorry once again this mostly unhinged ranting #I'm sure you're all used to that by now though #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me spoilers #obey me nightbringer spoilers #obey me lesson 38 #obey me nightbringer lesson 38 #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me barbatos #misc lesson recap #misc rambles

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nathaslosthershit · 7 months

Text

A lovesick girl calling her tired brother

Mat Barzal x Hughes!sister AU

Summary: After such a wonderful night with Mat, Birdie needs someone to talk to someone, and seeing as most of her friends are probably asleep…

Link to rest of AU

She let out a giggle, like an actual giggle. Alone, in her very dark apartment. She felt so happy that she was giggling. God, this was a feeling she could get used to.

Birdie needed to talk to someone or else she was not going to get any sleep. But looking at the time, 2:53 am, she knew she wasn’t getting through to anyone. At least not without causing a panic. But as she sat, still in the dark, and watched it turn 3 am, she decided to call the one person that may be annoyed she is calling, but will always pick up.

And after two rings, he answered.

“It is midnight here. That's like what, 3 for you? Why are you up and calling me?” Her younger brother, Quinn, asked.

“Please I just had the most amazing night and everyone is asleep. But if you are so annoyed I am sure Trevor would love to talk with-”

“No. I’m sorry, please do not call that idiot. I seriously don’t know why you like him so much.”

“You know why I love him and that is off topic. Can I please just explain what I have been doing for the past few hours?”

“Go ahead.”

From deciding to go up and talk to Mat, to him kissing her cheek before she walked back to her apartment, Birdie left out very few details of her encounter with him. Well, except for one very important detail.

“So who is this guy?” Quinn asks, smiling. It is nice to hear his older sister so happy. And despite what he is letting on, he is thrilled she decided to call him instead of her friends or their younger brothers… or, god forbid, Trevor Zegras.

But just as she goes to quickly explain that hockey players are still not her type, and yes she knows she has dated a few too many for that to be true, and yes this man is in fact a hockey player, she decided against it. Maybe a little mystery wouldn’t be so bad.

“Nope, I am keeping this one to myself for now. If it goes anywhere then maybe you will get to know.” “Come on, dude. You just spent the past 30 minutes talking about how you met ‘the most beautiful man in the world who is definitely your soulmate” and now you are saying it might not go anywhere? Give me a break.”

“I am saying I don’t want to get my hopes up. I am seeing you in a few months. Maybe I'll let you know then if you aren’t annoying about it.”

“Bullshit but alright.”

“I should go its almost 4. Thanks for talking, Quinn.”

“You are welcome. I’m glad you are so happy about this guy. Love and miss you.”

“Love and miss you too.”

“And please never call Trevor over m-” She hung up before he could berate her very dear and close friend.

She wasn’t going to get any sleep. Not when she had so much more of the dreamlike night to go over in her head again, and again. Birdie hoped that Mat was awake doing the same.

And he was.

Taglist: @tpwkstiles

#nhl imagine #quinn hughes x reader #mat barzal x reader #Birdie Hughes au ☀️

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wosowrites · 10 months

Text

Jessie Fleming (In Front of the Camera part 2)

warnings: none

prompt: in which three months later, you prepare a proposal to jessie during a pre-season promo shoot.

a/n: so so so cute and here’s the ask

You knew you were going to propose to Jessie Fleming when Canada got eliminated in the semi final of the world cup. Germany went through against Sweden, Germany won. You fell to the ground after penalties. Jessie had scored, you had missed. You had missed and then Oberdorf scored and Germany were World Cup finalists.

You had never cried so hard. You felt the weight of the pain of all your teammates on your shoulder and despite them telling you it wasn’t your fault, despite Bev holding your wet face in her hands and begging you to hear her when she said she was proud of you, the only person that got through to you was Jessie.

You were lying down on the middle of the pitch when your girlfriend sat down beside you. Her cheeks were red and wet with tears and her eyes were bloodshot. "I’m-" you started saying, changing your position so that you looked up at Jessie and not at the sky. "Do not apologize. This was not you. We all did little things that made it have to go to pens. Julia missed a basically open net, Chappys clearance wasn’t strong enough and Popp scored, I didn’t put enough pressure at times. Every single person made mistakes. You hear me? Your shot wasn’t bad. It was strong but you got unlucky. I love you. I’ll never stop loving you. I’d love you if you had sent the shot to the moon and I’d love you if you had scored it," she said, her eyes tearing up.

Your nose was running and tears were falling again. Jessie crossed her legs and you moved up so that your head was buried in her jersey. She didn’t even smell bad. She was just Jessie. Always comforting, always perfect. And that’s when you knew it was time to buy a ring for her.

You didn’t sleep that night. You were rooming with your best friend, Vanessa, which you were thankful for because due to the fact that it was her first world cup and not her last, she wasn’t feeling the pain as intensely as some.

"Vanessa?" you said. It was 1:00 am and you would be shocked if she answered. "Oui," she said. You were the two most fluent french speakers on the team and sometimes you spoke french together. "I’m gonna propose to Jessie," you said, looking up at the ceiling. You heard rustling in the bed beside you and suddenly the room was illuminated with light. "WHAT!" she practically yelled, a huge smile on her face. You turned on your side and looked at her, relieved to see a smile on at least one of your teammates faces. "Yeah. I knew when… well i’ve always known I would marry her but I knew it was time on the pitch. After the game when everyone tried to tell me that they loved me and the only person who could get through to me was Jessie," you said with a small smile, now both propped up on your elbow.

"We do all love you, you know. Maybe even more now than before," she said. "I love you, Van. And I want you to help me pick out a ring," you said. "Really! Well- I can’t sleep… can you?" she said. "No. Not at all," you said, letting yourself fall back onto the pillows. "Okay then," she said. And then Vanessa had grabbed her computer and sat down beside you on the bed. She slithered under the covers beside you and you sat up. She typed into the search bar 'jewellers near me' and clicked on a website.

You spent the entire night looking at engagement rings, and although the next morning your eyes were puffy from crying and from the lack of sleep, you had found a ring. It was in your budget and very minimalistic to fit jessie’s liking. A simple silver band with an oval diamond in between two smaller circular diamonds.

The girls that didn’t play in the NWSL were staying in Auckland until even after the third place game but until then they still had football duties. However, Bev had given you all the day off to do your own thing.

You talked to Vanessa in the shower as she did her makeup and skincare. "Okay so were going into groups based on what we want to do. I think it’s breakfast at a cafe with Julia, Jess, Jordyn, you, Niche and Kailen right?" you asked Vanessa through the sound of the shower. "Yeah. And then we’ll make up something to sneak off and go to that jeweler and get the ring!" she said, sounding extremely excited. "I cannot wait," you freaked out, shampooing your hair.

You needed this. Badly. And you were hoping that if you told the girls your plan to propose, they would have something happy to think about other than the World Cup elimination.

"Okay i’m ready, be quick okay?" she said as you got out of the shower with a towel wrapped around yourself.

You agreed and dried off before slipping on the yellow and blue patchwork shorts you had stolen from Jessie. You then put on a black hoodie due to the cooler winter weather, some gold jewelry and then sunnies over your head (also jessie’s). After putting on airforces and nike socks you left the washroom and ushered Vanessa off the bed.

You made your way down to the lobby for 9:00 where all the girls but your girlfriend were. They looked tired, a little down, but overall okay.

"Since when does Jess take the longest to get ready?" you asked Kailen. "Uh she was looking for her blue and yellow shorts. She wanted to wear them- oh. Yeah the shorts you have on right now," she cracked a smile. "Oops-" you said. "Okay well while she’s not here. I need to tell you all something. After breakfast Vanessa and I need to go to this jewelry place-" you took a deep breath "-I’m gonna propose to her. During the pre season photoshoot. Kind of a throwback to when we first went public and i’m gonna get the Chelsea girls to help me," you said with a huge smile.

Julia, Nichelle and Jordan squealed whereas Kailens jaw dropped before she attacked you into a hug. But then the elevator dinged and Jessie walked out.

"Hey baby," you said, walking up to her and going in for a kiss. But before you could kiss her, she put her hand on your shoulder blades and pushed you away, looking down at your-her shorts. "My shorts! Y/n!" she groaned. "I’m sorry!" you said with a small smile, not actually cross with you. She tried to stay mad but she couldn’t. She gave in and kissed you sweetly, her arms around her waist. "You guys are disgusting you’re gonna cut my appetite. Let’s go," Nichelle joked.

Two and a half weeks later.

The ring was chosen. The stage was set. The girl was there. Although you had thought you wanted the help of the Chelsea girls, you decided that you wanted to shock everyone. The photographer, the videographer, the gaffer, everyone. So, only Keish and Ashley knew the morning of. You were all in Chelsea kits, standing on the Cobahm pitch. The pictures of individual players had already been taken and so had the team photo. Now they had asked you, Keish, Jessie, Millie, Sam, AKB and Guro to film a video full of football related transitions to promote the 23/24 chelsea fcw season.

Cameras rolling. You felt the weight of the ring box Ashley had slipped to you a couple minutes earlier. You watched Jessie juggle the ball, the camera on her and then it was your time.

You started walking towards her and into the frame of the video. Your movement catching her off guard made her mess up and the ball went rolling away from her. "What are you doing?" she said to you. "Y/n! You’re not supposed to be in frame right now," the videographer said with a sigh.

But then you had pulled out the box from your pocket and he shut up. Jessie’s jaw dropped and everything went quiet.

Everyone was watching.

The second you were on one knee, Jessie spoke. "Yes!" she basically yelled, making you let out a loud laugh. "Jessie! Let me propose," you told her off. "You don’t have too. Yes. I want to-" she started saying but you cut her off. "Jess. I love you darling but I prepared a whole speech so let me do it!" you laughed, your eyes teary. So were hers.

"I knew I was going to marry you when we were 19. You missed a penalty for UCLA and we lost. You were so so angry at yourself, but man you looked so cute. We kissed for the first time a whole year later, and after that it was just a matter of time for me to know when I would be doing… well… this. Jessie… I missed the most importent penalty of my life and not once did I feel like you were angry at me. I’ve never gone a day without feeling unloved ever since you’ve told me you loved me. And I never want to not feel that feeling again. I want to make myself yours. So… Jessie- baby, can I be your wife?"

"I already said yes! Yes yes yes!" she screamed. "Really?! Oh i love you!" you screamed. You stood up and slipped the ring on her finger. You picked her up and spun her around, her squealing and you still sobbing of joy at the fact that she had said yes. When you finally placed her on the ground she grabbed your face and kissed you quickly.

The clapping, whooping and sobs from some of the more emotional teammates and staff went on for minutes. You hugged every person there. Emma congratulated you and Jessie over and over, Millie had Magda and Pernille on a facetime call. They were both sobbing. "I can’t believe our kids got engaged before us!" Magda cried. "That sounds so wrong Magda," you said, not managing to stop crying no matter how hard you tried. "Whatever! Oh im so happy,"

You left together after finally managing to get back to filming the promo video. Once you sat on your couch at home, it was time to call people.

You called all your Canadian team teammates to let them know that the wedding was on, and then Elysse who was with Logan, Michaele and John Fleming, Tristan Fleming, your whole family, Jessie’s and yours UCLA friends. It took six hours to get through everybody.

"Okay. Phones aside now. Just you and me," Jessie said. You smiled at her and put your phone on the coffee table. "How do you feel?" she asked you. "How do I feel?" you asked in confusion. "Yeah. Any regrets or..?"

"Oh come on Jessie. I feel like i’m engaged to the love of my life. I feel like i’m a World Cup bronze medalist and that life is working out for me right now. The UWCL is ours this year, I feel it. And we’re going to get married… and the next few years are going to be the best few years of our lives," you said, getting away with yourself and already imagining the wedding you would be having, the lift of the trophy.

"I feel the same. But mostly I just feel thankful that you’re all mine," she said, a look of hunger in her eyes. "All yours," you breathed, leaning back on the couch as she placed herself to hover over you. Jessie placed kisses on your neck and then down onto your collarbone. You let a breath out and smiled in content, your hands wandering her waist and then slipping down under the band of her shorts.

"What-" kiss "do-" kiss "-you" kiss "-want" kiss "-for dinner?" kiss. Jessie asked you. "You," you answered simply.

"That can be arranged," she said, slipping her hands over your abs. "Good, because nothing tastes better than you. Especially because I’m about to be your wife," you said, flipping her over and looking into her eyes. You tucked her loose hair behind her ear and attacked her neck, leaving love marks all the way down.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #chelsea fcw #jessie fleming #vanessa gilles #canwnt #sam kerr #woso couples

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