#the way he looks at him after 👀👀👀
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I DESPERATELY NEED THEM PIASTRI FICS 💳💳💥
FIRST OSCAR FIC 🥺 i know this concept has been done before but i loved how this one turned out and i hope you do too ! lmk your thoughts
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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yourinstagram GUTS has been out for a week !! what’s yalls favorite song? 🤧
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ynfan1 DONT MAKE ME CHOOSE
mtv definitely get him back!
ynfan2 choosing a favorite guts song is like choosing a favorite child
dualipa STUNNING ANGEL 🤩
oscarfan1 can oscar reply to this i want to know his favorite song
↳ oscarfan2 wbk he has this album on repeat
chappelroan lacy oh lacy 😩
oscarpiastri Love is embarrassing or logical
↳ oscarfan1 THERE YOU HAVE IT
↳ oscarfan2 whatever you do don’t picture oscar singing love is embarrassing like a teenage girl
↳ ynfan1 crying bc i bet yn has no idea of who he is
liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 287,689 others
oscarpiastri F1 race winner has a nice ring to it 🧡
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oscarfan1 FINALLYYY MY WINNER
landonorris Congrats mate ! Deserve it 👊
↳ oscarfan2 LOMLS
mclaren YES, YES IT DOES! 👏 So good today, Oscar. 🧡
longansargeant So proud of you mate 🙌
oscarfan3 do you think his crush will acknowledge his existence now that he’s a winner?
↳ oscarfan1 wait who’s his crush im out of the loop
↳ oscarfan3 singer and actress yn lol
↳ ynfan1 i love this lore so much
//
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yourinstagram tickets for the GUTS tour are on sale now who’s cominggggg🥶
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ynfan1 LETS GOOO
chappelroan i can’t wait for thissss💜
ynfan2 tour of the decade already
mtv pop princess is coming
oscarfan1 do you think oscar woke up for the fan pre sale and got into the queue and all
↳ oscarfan2 you BET
oscarpiastri Count me in ♥︎ by author
↳ oscarfan1 HEEEEELP
↳ ynfan1 yn liked his comment 😭
↳ oscarfan2 somebody check on oscar please
//
liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 288,293 others
oscarpiastri Days off 🌊
view all 7,238 comments
oscarfan1 this is the hottest man alive
mclaren 🙌
oscarfan2 not him posting this right after yn followed him 😭 we know what you’re doing sir
ynfan1 yn likeddd
↳ ynfan2 i love how both fandoms are rooting for them now
landonorris Looks dope 👊
yourinstagram niiiiceeee 😃
↳ ynfan1 HELLO????
↳ oscarfan1 now he’s for real going to pass out
↳ oscarfan2 i bet he’s staring at his phone wondering if this is real or if she was hacked
↳ ynfan2 i know this woman SHES FLIRTING
↳ ynfan3 come on girl give him a chance
four months later
//
liked by ynfan1, oscarfan1 and 17,397 others
f1gossip Oscar Piastri with singer and actress YN in Los Angeles today 👀
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oscarfan1 OMFG
oscarfan2 no way…
ynfan1 YALL, HE GOT IT
oscarfan3 i cannot believe my eyes, oscar has been simping over her on the internet since 2020 and how we have THIS
ynfan2 i really need to know how did this happen
oscarfan4 okay but THEIR SMILES !!!!
ynfan3 finally a guy who’s not a loser and/or an old ass
liked by oscarpiastri, sabrinacarpenter and 2,836,473 others
yourinstagram pastry boy clearly didn’t wait until i finished sneezing to take this picture 🤧
view all 17,826 comments
ynfan1 IS SHE TALKING ABOUT OSCAR??
oscarfan1 PASTRY BOY AS IN OSCAR PIASTRI ?
conangray love me a soft launch 🧐
↳ ynfan1 OMFGGGGGG
ynfan2 i can’t believe she’s potentially dating someone her age and with a job FINALLY
oscarfan2 oscar is proof that persistence is key and manifestation works
landonorris Typical pastry fashion
↳ yourinstagram idk how you deal with him all the time
↳ oscarfan1 ALSJAO THIS IS TOO MUCH
↳ oscarfan2 i need her to befriend the entire grid ASAP
oscarpiastri But it made it to your Instagram, so you’re welcome
↳ yourinstagram well thank you you’re very humble
↳ oscarpiastri Anytime 🤍
↳ oscarfan1 I’VE DIED DEAD
↳ ynfan1 stop flirting in front of us HELLO?
after the date
//
liked by oscarpiastri, chappelroan and 2,027,933 others
yourinstagram the GUTS tour takes tokyo today !!! this is going to be one of the most special shows ever 🥺
view all 25,736 comments
ynfan1 AHHHH
ynfan2 huuuhh is she planning something ??
conangray that’s my best friend 😍
oscarfan1 oscar dating a popstar is the best thing ever look at herrr
landonorris Can’t wait 🙌🏻
↳ landofan1 HUHHH?
↳ oscarfan1 is he going ?? WITH OSCAR ??
sabrinacarpenter 💗💗💗
oscarpiastri Please sing deja vu tonight
↳ yourinstagram you got it
↳ oscarfan1 AH I CANT BELIEVE WE MIGHT HAVE OSCAR (AND LANDO??) ATTENDING HER SHOW
//
liked by landonorris, yourinstagram and 538,299 others
oscarpiastri I had the best time ever in Tokyo 🙌🏻
view all 8,626 comments
oscarfan1 BABYYY
oscarfan2 i love him so bad
mclaren 🧡
ynfan1 oh we know why he had the best time
logansargeant Little boy in love
↳ oscarfan1 HWEEELP ME
landonorris Why are you posing like a five year old?
↳ landofan1 HEEEEEELP ME
↳ oscarfan1 i love them bad
↳ yourinstagram I SAID THE SAME THING !!
↳ ynfan1 man i love this
yourinstagram no picture credits ? really ?
↳ ynfan2 AHHH
↳ oscarpiastri 📸 credits to Miss America
↳ oscarfan3 WHY AM I CRYING
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yourinstagram night version. 📸 by vroom vroom guy
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ynfan1 OMFG???
oscarfan1 VROOM VROOM GUY?
mtv 🏎️ & 🎤 together was the best thing that happened to us
ynfan2 it’s actually so refreshing to see her dating someone her age who she can have fun with and not some pretentious old ass man who mansplains her
landonorris My children 🫶🏻
↳ landofan1 lando is the biggest shooter for this relationship
oscarfan2 oscar really bagged his biggest crush by being on her comments all the time that’s persistence
alexandrasaintmleux Belleeee 💕
↳ yourinstagram aleeeex i loved hanging out with you let's go out without the boys soon
↳ charlesfan1 LET ME IIIINNN
ynfan3 and when yn writes a song for him
logansargeant I can’t wait to meet you!
↳ yourinstagram pastry is sooo wrong for not introducing us yet
↳ oscarfan1 oscar wdym you haven’t introduced your gf to your best friend
oscarpiastri 😍
↳ oscarfan1 OSCCCC
↳ ynfan1 he’s down bad i get him
//
liked by oscarfan1, ynfan1 and 18,826 others
ynupdates YN and Oscar out and about tonight !
view all 3,022 comments
ynfan1 OH LOOOORD
oscarfan1 I CANTTT
ynfan2 i can’t stress how good it is that she’s dating someone her age enough
oscarfan2 KING OF MANIFESTATION
ynfan3 i mean we already knew they were together but seeing them with all this pda is so cuuuuute
oscarfan3 IM SO JEALOUS
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yourinstagram 5 new tunes for ya !!!! GUTS (spilled) out friday!!!
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ynfan1 WTFFF I DIDNT SEE THIS COMING
ynfan2 CLAIMING SO AMERICAN
dualipa YEEES ❤️🔥
oscarfan1 i’m pretty sure there’s an oscar song there i just KNOW IT
ynfan3 more angsty breakup songs IM READY
landonorris 🙌🙌🙌🙌
oscarfan2 ready for oscar to annoy lando with those on repeat
mclaren We can’t wait to hear all of them 🧡
↳ oscarfan1 MCLAREN INTERN ARE YOU OKAY?
↳ ynfan1 she’s the people’s princess
oscarpiastri I can confirm those songs are amazing
↳ ynfan1 he already heard them IM SO JEALOUS
↳ oscarfan2 spill the tea are any of those about you
//
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oscarpiastri I laugh at all her jokes and I say she’s so American. So I might just be in lo-lo-lo-love 🧡
view all 9,725 comments
oscarfan1 LAJSIAHAUAB
oscarfan2 I 😭 CANT 😭 BELIEVE 😭 THIS
ynfan1 she’s wearing a friendship bracelet for him MY HEART
charles_leclerc I’m happy for you, son ❤️
↳ charlesfan1 CHARRRR
ynfan2 this is so cute i can’t also when did that sneaky shit go to his race
ynfan3 YN LOVER ERA YN SIMP ERA YN WAG ERA
oscarfan3 long story short: never give up on your celebrity crush
logansargeant ❤️❤️
landonorris Young love, so adorable
ynfan4 THE LYRICS REFERENCE
francisca.cgomes 🥺🥺🥺
↳ ynfan1 she’s already so loved by the wags
yourinstagram love youuuu, pastry 🤧
↳ ynfan2 i love all the nicknames he uses for him
↳ oscarfan1 pastry, vroom vroom boy. she’s just so romantic
#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri fanfiction#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri fake instagram#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri x yn#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#charles leclerc x reader#formula 1#oscar piastri writing#harrysfolklore#f1 grid x reader#max verstappen x reader#lando norris x reader
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Sculpture
❝commission: following that ask from '👀 anon', I'd love to see a sculpture related drabble. I'd want it to take place around the wedding and after the birth of the twins. Bonus points if it can introduce the twins in some way. — requested by 💻 anon.
❝ 📜 — lady l: I didn't mention the twins because I confess I didn't know how to put them on the story lol, but that takes place after the wedding. I'm not good at detailing things like that, but I tried my best! I hope you like it. :)
❝tw: none, just fluff.
❝📜pairing: soft!yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.
❝word count: 1,346.
"Is this really necessary?" You muttered, as you stared at Alexander with uncertainty shining in your eyes.
Your new husband, in turn, just smiled warmly and straightened her dress.
"Yes, it's necessary." Alexander replied, looking at you fondly. You smiled at his affection.
''I know it’s a wedding gift but...'' You shifted uncomfortably.
"But?" Alexander encouraged you, placing a hand over your shoulders. You bit your bottom lip and sighed.
"I feel weird about the idea of being 'sculpted'." You shrugged, looking into his eyes. You couldn't help but feel that way, however, being sculpted was an art that few women of your time had the pleasure of witnessing, let alone being the inspiration or, in your current case, being the model for the statue itself.
Alexander kissed your forehead affectionately, "Don't worry. And yes, this is necessary. I want the whole world to know the beauty of my beautiful wife."
You smiled at his words and kissed Alexander's lips tenderly. Alexander returned the kiss with equal passion, his arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you closer to him.
As you pulled away from the kiss, Alexander still held you close, his expression now more serious but still full of tenderness. You smiled lightly and caressed his face with your fingers.
"Then to be carved I go." You said and Alexander smiled at his words. He kissed your cheek affectionately.
"Come, you're going to love my personal sculptor. He's very good at the details he does." Alexander held your hand as you walked to the place where the sculpture would be made. Lysippos was his favorite sculptor and you couldn't deny that the statues he made were very precise and very beautiful.
The place where Lysippos would carve you is located on the outskirts of the palace, surrounded by a lush garden that exhales the scent of spring flowers. As you approached, you noticed the sculptures scattered along the path, each one more impressive than the last. Every detail seemed to come to life in the stone, and you couldn't help but admire the sculptor's mastery.
Alexander held your hand firmly, conveying confidence and comfort. When you arrived at the door of the place, a well-decorated room, you noticed, an assistant from Lysippos received you with a respectful bow.
"The master awaits you." The young man said, leading them inside.
The interior of the room was spacious and bright, with large windows that let sunlight enter and illuminate the room. Tools of all types were meticulously organized on benches, and marble blocks of different sizes were scattered around the place. In the center of the room, Lysippos was focused on a new work, but upon noticing your presence, he raised his head and smiled.
"Alexander! It's always a pleasure to welcome you." Lysippos said, drying his hands on a red cloth. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he turned to you, "And this must be your wife. A true beauty, as you described."
You blushed slightly at the compliment, but smiled politely. Alexander squeezed your hand lightly, a sign of silent support.
"Lysippos, this is my wife. I would like you to carve a statue of her, capturing her essence and beauty." Alexander said with pride in his voice.
Lysippos nodded, walking towards him with an appraising but gentle look, "Of course, it will be an honor. Let's start with some measurements and preliminary sketches. This will help us capture all the important details."
You sat down in a chair, feeling a mix of nervousness and curiosity. Lysippos got to work, his hands moving with precision as he took measurements and made notes. Alexander stayed by your side the entire time, offering words of encouragement and affection.
"It's okay, my dear." He murmured, stroking your hand, "Trust Lysippos. He's the best."
Lysippos worked quickly but carefully and soon had a preliminary sketch. He showed it to Alexander, who smiled in satisfaction.
"Perfect, Lysippos. That's exactly it." Alexander said smiling widely.
You looked at the sketch and were surprised to see how he had captured your image so accurately. The expression on the papyrus seemed almost alive, reflecting your emotions impressively. You noticed your eyes were looking up and your lips were slightly parted. This was a very common feature in the sculptures that Lysippos had made of Alexander.
"Now, let's get to work on the marble." Lysippos spoke, turning his attention to the large piece of stone in the center of the room, "It will take some time, but I promise the result will be magnificent."
You nodded, feeling a little more confident. The idea of being sculpted was still strange, but Alexander's presence and Lysippos's skill made you feel safe.
As Lysippos began to carve, Alexander whispered in your ear, "Thank you for doing this, my love. It means a lot to me."
You smiled and kissed his hand, "Anything for you, Alexander."
And so, under the watchful eye of the master sculptor and the affection of your husband, you began to see the magic happen, transforming a simple block of marble into a work of art that would forever capture your essence.
Months passed since the work began, and each day you saw small advances in the sculpture that captured your essence in an increasingly impressive way. Lysippos worked with dedication and precision, and Alexander followed the progress with increasing enthusiasm. Finally, the big day arrived: the unveiling of the finished statue.
The statue was positioned on a pedestal in the center of the room, covered in a large silk fabric. Lysippos, with a satisfied smile, held a corner of the fabric, ready to reveal his masterpiece. Alexander stood beside you, his eyes shining with expectation.
"My King and Queen, I present to you the work I captured with all my heart and skill." Lysippos said proudly, pulling the fabric with a dramatic gesture.
The sight of the statue made you hold your breath. In white marble, the figure appeared almost ethereal, a sublime representation of your form. Lysippos had captured every detail with stunning precision, but more than that, he had captured your essence, your soul.
The statue showed you in a graceful pose, leaning slightly forward, as if you were about to take a step. Your dress flowed around her legs, sculpted with such mastery that it seemed to move in the breeze. Every fold and ripple of the fabric was carved with a realism that almost defied the nature of stone.
Your face, the most impressive part of all, radiated serenity and strength, one of the qualities of a Queen. Lysippos had captured the expression of tenderness and determination that Alexander loved so much about you. Your eyes, sculpted with remarkable depth, seemed to look into the future with confidence. Your lips, slightly parted and curved in a smile, conveyed an inner calm.
"It's just magnificent." Alexander murmured, not taking his eyes off the statue, "It captured everything I love about you."
You approached the statue, reaching out to touch the cold marble surface. The smooth texture and detailed work were almost mesmerizing. Emotions mingled inside you — gratitude, pride, a touch of shyness —but most of all, a deep sense of pride. Who knew you would look as beautiful as a statue?
"It's incredible, Lysippos." You said, your voice cracking, "You really captured everything."
Lysippos smiled humbly, "It was a pleasure to carve something so beautiful. I hope this statue brings joy and inspiration to all who see it."
Alexander wrapped you in his arms, kissing your forehead tenderly, "Now, the whole world will be able to see the beauty and strength of my wife."
And so, the statue stood as an eternal testament to Alexander's love for you, a work of art that captured not just your appearance, but your essence, for future generations to admire.
#alexander the great x reader#yandere alexander the great#x reader#yandere alexander the great x reader#history#yandere history#yandere historical characters#imagine#commission#yandere imagine#soft yandere#drabble#💻 anon
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Hello! I wanted to ask, but do we have any visual descriptions of the blot monster that killed Ortho? Like even just if it was big or if it had claws anything like that lol
Also this is a bit of a darker question do feel free to not answer this part but is the it ever implied or said how exactly Ortho was killed? Like did the blot monster like.. bite or maybe squash him? (Ngl I'd normally ask it in a more graphic way but I don't wanna make you uncomfortable)
Anyways I hope you have a good night/day whenever you read this <3
Hello hello! ^^ Thank you for this question!
I do not believe we have any detailed description of exactly what it is that happened to human-Ortho and, interestingly, we do not really know what happened to Idia, either!
There is a loud sound of something striking against something else and Idia says, "Everything after that is a blank for me. By the time I woke up, Ortho was gone."
What was that sound we hear after the monster lunges for Ortho? Metal against metal? Someone or something hitting a wall, or floor? How did Idia fall unconscious, and what happened in between Ortho being attacked and Idia being knocked out?
"Everything after that is a blank" may be insinuating that something happened during that "everything after," but he either can't or does not want to remember what it was. Very curious!
And there may be more to this scene than meets the eye 👀
When Ortho reacts to the creature coming down the hall, he doesn't call it a phantom: he calls it a monster.
"Monster" is one of the various ways that the cast refer to Grim (re: Animal vs. Monster vs. Cat vs. Dire Beast vs. Tanuki (pt1) / Animal vs. Monster vs. Cat vs. Dire Beast vs. Tanuki (pt2) ).
STYX labels him a dire beast in Book 6, but at the same time we learn that Grim is under a powerful spell that STYX's supercomputer can't actually analyze!
Grim might not be a direbeast at all, and we have already heard of creatures that will blend in with direbeasts in order to hide: phantoms 👀
I first came across this theory via Vtuber Toro-san (shared with permission) who points out some interesting things we know about the creature:
1. It was subject ROS-3367A, which possibly means that the phantom originally came from the Queendom of Roses, and Grim is theorized to have been at least partially based on Dinah from Alice in Wonderland.
(In Book 6 we also hear about a SUS-332OB, theorized to be from Sunset Savanna.)
2. While the weaker phantoms frozen on the higher levels of Tartarus in Book 6 mostly growl, the stronger phantoms frozen deeper inside would sometimes speak, saying, "I'm hungry, feed me flesh," "Don't go, stay with me" and "I want to be friends, too."
This is not impossible to tie back to Grim, who recalls waking up "hungry and alone," saying "it was real cold."
He follows with, "What happened after that again? It's all so foggy..."
Grim is mysterious enough on his own, not knowing where NRC is located (which begs the question: how did he get there?) and having significant gaps in his memory, in addition to being so unfamiliar with basic information of what is (presumably?) his own world that other characters often express surprise. (re: Grim's Memory / Grim's Experiences)
3. The chimera in the prologue has long been theorized to be some form of overblotted Grim. Is that his true form as a potentially flesh-eating, unfrozen phantom under a curse and/or blessing that no one understands?
We do not know! :> To the original question: it is difficult to pinpoint how exactly it was that Ortho died, as we do not know exactly what it was that killed him. (If it was the chimera in the opening, though, we have an idea of what it is he may have looked like at the time!)
We know Ortho was killed by a monster who had just escaped from a place built expressly for the purpose of housing lonely, violent, and hungry creatures--but that is all!
Perhaps a mystery to be solved as the plot thickens 👀
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Missing the Mike Faist priest kink era 😭 still wait for the« see you in the next Wednesday service » ahaha I’m wondering if the locals suspects their relation or not( do they see each other outside his service ?)( Is he jealous when he sees other guys flirting with her before his church service starts ? ) 👀
OH MY GOD
an ask about "kneel" ???? im gonna cry
no let's talk about it because i never did a pt. 2 or anything
i think that a majority of the locals don't really suspect that the reader is messing around with the priest (they idolize him + see him as a nonsexual figure), but they do look down on her b/c of her visible promiscuity (i.e. the hickies and etc.)
they might notice her wearing shorter skirts to services, and crossing her legs/squeezing her thighs together incessantly throughout his sermons. someone might even catch a glimpse of soft bruises and red handprints on her ass after she bends over to pick something up in front of them the day after mass. and they're like omg? what is this young lady getting herself into? and who in this town could stand to do such vile, obscene things to her body? (as if it's not their precious priest)
i dont think they see each other outside of services/the church b/c they dont want to risk drawing attention to their "special, secret relationship". but! he does give her his phone number and she calls him sometimes when she thinks too much about him and gets wet :( he has talked the reader through touching herself on multiple occasions. tons of verbally guided masturbation over the phone as she lays on her bed, her hand between her legs, with an opened bible next to her. yeah.
he had gifted her that bible after the second time they had sex. not necessarily to indoctrinate her into the religion, but to give her a representation of something that was important to him. it was his subtle way of trying to connect with her. but it kinda backfired b/c now she gets hot and flushed when she reads the words "God" and "peace" and "faith". he basically pavlov's dog'd her. classically conditioned.
because she lost her virginity to him, she's definitely very attached. she tells him that she isn't, but its a total lie and he knows it too. she gets jealous when women, young or old (doesn't matter), come up to him after services all smiley and ready to talk to him about their problems. reader usually gets red in the face and pouts in the back pew as she watches their interactions closely. she worries a lot that she isn't the only person in the town that the priest is intimate with, but she is. he's fairly attached to her too. and because she's a pretty young woman, divorced dads and older teen boys will often try to flirt with her before the priest's regularly scheduled homily, and he has to gather all the restraint in his body not to insert himself between you and them.
they are very cute + sacrilegious. ugh.
#🩷 - thirsts#thank u anon! and i hope this answered ur questions <3#ive been waiting for an excuse to talk abt this fic#i loved writing it#it was genuinely so fun#mike faist#mike faist thirst#mike faist fic#mike faist x reader#mike faist smut#mike faist imagine#mike faist x you#dom!mike faist#sub!reader#sage's asks#priest kink#religious kink#religion kink#blasphemy kink#art donaldson smut
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Thought about accidentally sending a nude to Cove (or anyone of your choice) 👀
Like MC was trying to send him a picture of something else but accidentally tapped on a nude they took the night before and WHOOPS! Now Cove is going back and forth with himself between typing up a reply and deleting what he wrote and just screaming into his pillow because he just saw his best friend/crush naked and it’s still on his phone screen and he has to see them tomorrow because they always do but he doesn’t know if it’ll be better to see each other tomorrow or wait a bit until things are “less awkward” and he is BURSTING at the seams
Bonus if he feels guilty because he saves the photo anyways for………….. research purposes 👀
MY EYES ARE WIDE OPEN. I DIDNT EXPECT IT TO GO THAT WAY....
that's such a good thought, though... especially if while he's fumbling, you're freaking out, but also way too curious to know what he'll say so you don't delete it...
and in a moment of bravery, text him before he can say anything to your apology or about the image.. "although.. you can keep it if you like"
his eyes FALL out his head. what do you mean he can keep the image?!?;!^!
he probably doesn't even respond. and if he does, it's just a "it's okay" because he's too shaken to say anything else. doesn't know what to say. "you look pretty", "you're so sexy", "thanks for the nude"????
which.. is probably worse than any of those options if you're already nervous n floundering over te accident.
if you want a bit more satisfaction, are genuinely worried you made him uncomfortable, or just reassurance for what you already know... go ahead and ask if he's uncomfortable, or mad at you, or whatever.
it takes a minute but eventually you get a "...no, im not upset.. or uncomfortable..."
please move on after that because if you linger on the topic anymore, he'll be on life support 🙏
and he does hold onto that image... can't bring himself to download it, that's too much for his poor heart. and even though it'd only be proper to delete the message.. he doesn’t. he tries, his finger hovering over the button.
even though you said he could... keep it. he shouldn't, right? no matter how long he sits in turmoil, his respect for you and his teenage hormones raging against each other...
eventually one wins, because he's been so restless all day. his stomach twisting with something foreign. his eyes wandered to your body when he saw you at the beach that day, and he remembered the picture, trying to ignore how his sex throbbed and the subsequent tightening of his shorts...
really, he has more control than this usually. his voice of reason, more like selfconsciousness, too strong.
but his fingers flicker across his phone, and they find the way back to that image, that damn image that's been haunting him. his brain begging him to remember every curve and dip, freckle, and scar on your body.
he knows what your body looks like, you grew up together. he knows where most of your beauty marks are, your freckles, your scars, knows if your skin is seamless, and he's sleepily traced any acne scars on your biceps.
he knows the shape of you, the leanness and the cords of muscle in your arms and thighs. recognizes you just by looking at your back.
so it's not hard for him to imagine your nude body after that, especially since he couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen fast enough when you sent it.
and even now, he's finding any of those hidden treasures right now as his eyes rake over your body, his hand wrapping around his cock as he shamefully imagines you with him. touching him. touching you.
imagines his lips on your hip bones, kissing your body like it's a prayer.
your voice is always so clear in his ears, he can't help but imagine the way you'd call his name... thinks back to all the times you've laughed happily or groaned tiredly, or moaned in pain...
his mind twists the knowledge of you, your lovely voice, and your heavenly touch. imagines you calling his name, gasping at his touch...
finally spills his cum all over his hand, his head collapsing on his pillow, covers his face, sparks of pleasure still running through him...
realizes post nut clarity is fucking real, and he doesn't know how he's gonna be able to look at you tomorrow...
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Hi! Could I request a fic where the Metkayina are having a festival and perhaps Rotxo, Aonung and Neteyam all had been crushing on our lovely fem!Na'vi!reader and are eager to try and court her so essentially they are all fighting for her attention?
Like reader doesn't notice this at all but the guys all are eager to ask reader to dance, perhaps pour a serving of food for reader to show their intent of courtship, give a gift and such but they don't realize they're all trying to court her until they notice that there's competition?
Perhaps reader is just talking with Tsireya, teasing her about her thing with Lo'ak and is oblivious while Aonung, Rotxo and Neteyam are plotting how to win reader's heart.
Each move they make has them glaring at each other when reader isn't looking and it's just 3 guys trying to win over one girl?
Who do you think would win this fight?
I offer free reign and this could either be sfw or nsfw (both are amazing)
Or.. perhaps alternate endings showing what happens depending on who wins her heart? 👀
Have fun with this, thank you! <3
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To be fair, you were oblivious at the best of times. It was something Tsireya had always teased you about- like she could be one to talk! And of course, while the two of you would sit giggling in her marui, the next room over, Aonung and Rotxo would be sitting in silence, each pretending to be in their own thoughts and enjoying each others company in silence, but they’d both really be listening for you. For your voice, for the sound of your smile beneath your words, for the tiniest of confessions you felt something for someone.
Nothing ever came, until another contender joined the fight. Rotxo tried to be kind to Neteyam like he was to others, and he buried his worry and jealously just as deep as his feelings for you. And Aonung, oh fiery, jealous Aonung didn’t try to even hide it. That fight on the beach only made his hatred for Neteyam grow deeper, especially the way you had shouted him down after it and then immediately went to apologise on Aonung’s behalf TO NETEYAM.
It was a while until Neteyam and Aonung and Rotxo became friends, and even longer before they finally came clean about what they truly felt. It was then - one night on an abandoned beach, roasting fish by a fire - that they decided on a fair game. May the best man win.
Each was determined, each had their own approach.
Neteyam was helpful, offering to teach you how to shoot a bow, telling you stories about the forest, inviting you to even fly on his ikran with him. (It was a smart tactic given the way you looped yourself all around him until every part of you was against him, yet most of the time your eyes were closed and it was rather clear you were terrified. He decided maybe heights weren’t your thing, and amended his plan).
Rotxo was sweet, bringing you every little thing he could. Little shells and seaglass and stones he found to match your eyes, or your favourite top. Then of course making jewellery with his precious finds, and leaving them in little places for you to find. You didn’t know he was the one doing it, and he was too shy to give it to you at first, but the first time he saw that woven necklace with the pearl on it, he was sure his heart could have burst into flame.
And Aonung, oh ridiculously confident Aonung, wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He had never felt like this - aflame every time he saw you, always occupied by every thought of you, heart thumping wildly everytime your fingertips brushed over him. He found himself seating himself beside you at every party, every dinner, every festival. He would set his leg aside so it would brush yours no matter the distance, revelling in the way you flushed but never moved away. He would keep his eyes on you at every fight, then come straight to you to clean him up and fuss over him, telling him not to fight all the time or next time you wouldn’t help him. (You were lying, the next time he came back, you even gave his neck a little massage when you complained).
It was only at the festival that they decided enough was enough. Your ignorance to their feelings was becoming a little ridiculous now.
So they assumed the positions. Neteyam offering to dance with a charming smile. Rotxo flitting around bringing you drinks and food and everything he could lay a hand on until you placed a hand on his arm with a gentle smile and told him you were fine, why doesn’t he just sit and talk with you for a bit? Of course, Aonung settled himself in his normal position at your side, closer than usual, leaning back on an arm when Neteyam reapproaches, an arm positioning itself just beyond the far side of your waist so he’s half-holding you into him.
And what could you do?
Three of them - one of you?
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IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...
You best imagine that the smile on his face was nothing short of radiant. He would take you straight away from the festivities for a moonlit walk along the beach, halfway through he'd finally take your hand and revel in the ease with which your fingers lace in his. He'd tell you why he likes you, how long he's liked you, just how beautiful you look in the pale moonlight. Shortly after which he'd kiss you, and you'd melt straight into him and never leave his arms again.
He's never been more excited. more nervous. more terrified. Truth be told, he had never really thought this far because he'd never be self-assured enough to think you'd actually choose him over Neteyam or Aonung. But under your gaze and smile and gentle squeeze of his hand, he stammers everything he likes about you and the whole truth about everything and then, nervously...
"Can I kiss you?"
It's sweet, gentle, tentative. He breathes you in, his hand tangling in your hair, revelling in the way you smile against his lips, or the way your hair smells like coconut.
Oh, and he 100% asked Can I be your boyfriend now?
Oh, Aonung would never admit he was surprised. But the feeling of relief when he knows you chose him takes him by surprise. Instantly he's bundling you the fuck away from other people, a wide grin stretched across his face, holding you as close to him as possible until you're safely behind the woven curtain of your marui. Best believe you got some good dick that night, but also the from gentlest, kindest version of Aonung you have ever seen. He keeps his eyes on you the whole time, forehead pressed you yours, lips never leaving your skin, whether it be your lips, forehead, neck, breasts, collar, cheek, jaw, literally wherever they can land.
Also he would confess everything to you while he's inside and close, sort of like a Simon and Daphne moment from bridgerton but ONE HUNDRED times better because you all know that I might like Aonung just a little bit >-<
#ask#avatar fandom#avatar fanfiction#aonung#avatar the way of water#avatar#aonung fanfiction#aonung x reader#aonung x female reader#avatar smut#aonung fic#neteyam x reader#avatar neteyam#rotxo#avatar rotxo#rotxo x reader
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Controversial Opinion:
Sirius is the most responsible and mature of the marauders
ohhhh look yeah this is an interesting one 👀
so like, do i think that sirius is the most mature and responsible one? yes. but mainly because the bar is on the floor during the canon events, what with peter’s betrayal and constant fear, james being dead, and remus having completely retreated into himself.
i suppose it can be argued that remus is the more mature and responsible one (disapproving of sirius and james bullying severus, telling sirius to sit down in OotP, trying to deescalate fights, disliking the childish hostility between sirius and severus), but his maturity & responsibility is imo more akin to that of a child being obedient to authority figures. it banks on sirius’ and james’ explicit arrogance and loud confidence in SWM, sirius’ depression and mood swings during OotP, and his own position of authority + sirius’ singular focus on revenge and protection during PoA. after sirius dies the sense of maturity and responsibility we get from him lessens, in a way: he’s more “mature” than the trio, but only because he’s older; and he somehow isn’t as responsible, because he keeps running.
his maturity is in his demureness, in how much he turns into himself. the one time he genuinely appears immature and irresponsible is when the idea of “lupin, the authority figure” entirely drops: when harry, 20 years remus’ junior and still a teenager, has to tell remus to get a hold of himself and remain with his growing family, because the damage has already been done and running away is not going to help. it’s the moment remus’ fear and hatred of himself wholly takes hold of him during the events of canon, and it establishes his sense of maturity and responsibility as nothing more than a thin veneer. he doesn’t know what he’s doing just as much as the trio. he just has more life experience.
sirius’ maturity and responsibility is based on how he acts around and towards harry. like for remus, with him it’s a thin veneer: he’s messed up and covers that up with trying to be there for harry, by trying to protect him in the way he deems best, and by being harry’s soundboard. azkaban damaged him beyond repair, but he tries to be responsible rather than appear responsible. he admits he was a massive prick during school, that his arrogance caused him to make horrible mistakes—he tries in any way he can to keep harry safe and prepared, and also relatively happy. and in that case, i think responsibility and maturity go hand in hand: being willing to admit fault is far more mature than, say, admonishing someone for arguing a bit too harshly about a sensitive topic. similarly, judging that the best way to protect an irate teenager in mortal peril is to prepare him by being honest is more mature than trying to keep the wool over said teenager’s eyes. sirius sees the reality of situations and acts accordingly, not always sensitive to the emotions of others, and when that’s in regards to harry’s safety… well, his responsibility and maturity is higher in that way.
i’m not going to pretend that sirius was the paragon of maturity and responsibility at hogwarts, but i think that it’s likely he was the ‘more’ responsible and mature one of the group—purely through his willingness to admit fault. he’s not pretending not to be an aggressor. he’s not scared of his own cruelty and accepts it. he hasn’t been raised in a cushiony environment and was, i think, very quick to absorb and process the gravity of the burgeoning war. even The Prank (which i think is FAR less serious (forgive the pun) than fandom likes to pretend for drama’s sake) is likely to be a small slip-up in the grand scheme of Sirius’ Seven Years At Hogwarts, a situation swiftly rectified by james. remus pretending that he totally disapproved of all the bullying the marauders did but also being an active and trusted participant in their shenanigans doesn’t mean shit on the maturity and responsibility front, nor does him being appointed as prefect.
neither peter nor james were the responsible mature ones, obviously, just based on the way they acted: peter’s obvious adoration (and later, utter betrayal), and james appearing forcibly (and purposefully) oblivious to Not Being Liked. james takes responsibility later, when he and lily start dating, marry, and have harry; when he gives up the cloak temporarily because he knows himself, and knows he’ll be tempted to take it for a spin; when he’s slightly panicked in the photograph about harry’s sudden skill on his first broom and chases after him. at that point, briefly, james would’ve been the most mature and responsible one—but he died too soon to keep and relish in that title.
#sirius black#james potter#peter pettigrew#remus lupin#marauders#mwpp#bullets-from-another-dimension#ask
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jance + royalty au? 👀
Ohhh I think I'm gonna have fun with this one and it'll probably turn too long so putting this under the cut <3
(Note: I'm too lazy to search which countries still have any sort of monarchy and which ones would fit the most, so I leave it up for imagination. I mean, I know we have one here in Spain so maybe one could be Spanish but idk, whatever agahsbs)
Both Jan and Nace are next in line for their respective monarchies. They've never met each other, but along with the education they received as princes, they had to learn about the rest of the monarchies and regimes in the world, so yeah... they do know at least a bit about each other.
Jan has been out as queer for a few years now, since he was 18. It took him some time to gather the courage to speak to his parents, scared of how they would react to the possibility that the prince - the future king of the country - might fall in love with a man one day, making the possibility of having biological children a little, well, complicated. He still liked girls, but he liked boys too, so the possibility was there.
Still, he talked to them. Thankfully, his parents were very supportive and reassured him that there were many ways they could still have children, and there was always the adoption possibility if other methods didn't work out. "The crown is something that is passed from generation to generation, but it is not our blood that makes us kings or queens. We will love you and your future children no matter what."
They agreed to wait until he was 18 to make a statement. It was pretty wild, he appeared in the news and every single newspaper, the word obviously spreading all over the word: he was the first ever out and proud (future) monarch. But anyways, the response was mostly supportive.
Nace, for his part, belongs to a much conservative monarchy. The country has progressed a lot, is a lot more open and lgbtq friendly than it used to be. The monarchy - or, well, his parents and the people around them - on the other hand...
He has known he's gay since he was little, after realizing that him looking at men that way was not admiration or him wanting to be like them, but more like him having a crush on them.
He didn't tell anyone tho, he grew up hearing everyone around him talking bad about people like that, people like him, so he never said anything about it, he hated himself for being like that. That was until a few years later he confessed everything to his sister one night, crying, expecting her to hate him just as much as he had learned to hate that part of him. Instead, his sister hold him tight and told him that it was okay, that she loved him just the way he was, there was nothing wrong about it and he deserved to be loved for who he was.
With time, he started to learn how to love himself again. It was hard sometimes, he wasn't quite there yet - the thought that his parents wouldn't accept him if he came out a constant reminder of it - but he tried.
Then, it happened. Jan - the gorgeous prince with long, black hair and a slightly mysterious and cool aura, yet with beautiful big brown eyes and a soft smile that might or might not make Nace's stomach tingle every time he sees him on tv - has come out as queer. It's shocking at first, but he can't help but feel... good. He's not alone, there's people like him out there, and they're determined to prove that there's nothing wrong with being queer just because you're part of the Royal Family. And he's also proud of the younger boy, for having the courage to come out to a whole country (and the whole world basically) when he himself can't even talk to his parents.
It's not until a few years later that they meet at an event Nace's family organized, but Nace hasn't stopped thinking about the beautiful prince's speech. Nace surprises even himself by going up to Jan and introducing himself (even if they obviously know who they are but, a prince has to be polite right?). They talk a little and they realize that neither of them really wanted to be there, so they escaped the salon where everyone is gathered and Nace shows him around the castle.
They end up going into Nace's room, both of them laying on his bed side by side, looking at the ceiling, cracking jokes and talking shit about how ridiculously polite and hypocrite everyone in that room was. Nace's heart warms as he realizes that the beautiful, kinda shy guy he's had a little crush on from seeing him on tv is apparently really kind and funny and sweet and even more beautiful in person than he is through the screen somehow, and Nace doesn't know what possessed him in that moment but he ends up talking to Jan about when he came out. He confesses him how much his speech impacted him and how much it has helped him accept himself.
He doesn't say it directly, but it doesn't take a genius to understand, yet Jan ventures a quiet "so, you are..." There's a bit of silence where Jan wonders if he pushed too hard until Nace says "I'm gay". He's never said that to anyone besides his sister and it feels good, liberating and, for the first time since the conversation started, he dares to look at Jan. He finds him already looking at him with a bright smile on his face and a (hopeful?) glimmer in his eyes. The younger man doesn't say anything, but he wraps him up in a hug like no one has ever given him. It makes Nace feel safe and accepted like he's never felt and without realizing he starts sobbing quietly, the sobs turning into full tears streaming down his cheeks and heavy breathing as he tells Jan everything that troubles him, everything about his family not being accepting and Jan holds him through it, caressing his hair and whispering words of affirmation until he fully calms down.
Nace feels embarrassed after that, but Jan quickly reassures him and they end up exchanging numbers.
Sadly, the event doesn't last forever and Jan has to go home not long after, but he leaves with a promise to keep in touch, both of them excited for what seemed to be the start of a beautiful friendship.
Nace probably didn't expect it, but they end up texting almost every day. Despite their equally busy schedules, it's nice to come out of a very boring meeting to a bunch of messages from Jan, complaining about his equally boring meetings, talking about stuff that happen throughout his day or sending random memes. He's a bit shy at first, not daring to start conversations, but it's not long until he starts doing the same.
They stay up late at night chatting and sometimes even face timing each other. Nace learns that Jan is very much a night owl, but he's not that used to staying up too late so he sometimes falls asleep in the middle of their call (Jan just finds it incredibly cute and endearing, and if he sometimes spends a few long minutes looking at Nace's peaceful sleeping face before hanging up well... no one needed to know that)
It's been a few month since they first met when Nace has to travel to do some stuff in Jan's country. He swears he's never been more excited to go meet some people and visit some places, but the thought of getting to reunite with Jan is exhilarating. They hug each other so tight and definitely longer than you would hug someone you've only met once before once they meet, but they're both too happy to care about it.
The time Nace spends there passes by way too quickly and he has to go home. It's when he's laying in his own bed that night, his whole body seeming to miss Jan with every atom and his heart aching with the desire to have the other man near, that he realizes (or more like, accepts) that he's in love with Jan.
And he cries. Cries because he's fallen in love with his best friend. Cries because he doesn't want to fuck up this beautiful friendship that they've manage to build besides the distance. Cries because he knows he doesn't stand a chance. Cries because he would never forgive himself for ruining what they have. Cries because he misses him, so fucking much. But how could he not? When Jan has helped him accept and love himself just the way he is, when Jan has showed him he's deserving of love and genuine friendship, when Jan is just so... Jan.
Unbeknownst to him, Jan is having a similar reaction all the way over at home.
Jan blames himself. He knew he had a crush on Nace after that night they met. He thought it would be just a silly crush and it would go away soon, but every day that passed, every text and every late night call, made him fall a little bit more. How was his (not so) silly little crush supposed to go away when Nace was so sweet and nice and kind and cute and beautiful, when his hair was so soft and his dimpled smile was so bright and genuine and his sassy remarks never failed to make Jan smile, when he looked so incredibly adorable and hot when he was wearing his glasses, when his hugs made him feel so safe, when he talked so passionately about the things he liked - god he was such a nerd and fuck Jan was so down bad for him.
So yeah, Jan blames himself. Blames himself because he know this could potentially ruin their friendship. He would never be able to forgive himself if his feelings for his friend were the reason Nace decided to step away from his life, making him lose probably the most precious thing he has ever had.
Of course, none of them say anything about it, they keep in touch just like before, they visit each other as often as their schedules allow them, enjoying being friends. Both of them secretly hoping they could be more, but neither of them daring to risk breaking what they already have.
How long will it take them to get their shit together and realize the feeling is mutual? Will they be able to resist the urge to lean in and kiss the other on one of those rare times they get to spend the day together? Who will take the first step, risking everything they have, holding on to hope that this could turn out well and they could be happy together? How will they overcome all the challenges they will encounter once they are together, like having a long distance relationship or what Nace's parents will have to say about it? How will the world take it when Nace comes out, or if they - two princes and future kings of two different countries - come out as a couple? Well... that's a story for another time.
Leave an AU and a pairing in my ask and I’ll give you the plot of the fic I won’t write for it.
#sorry i had some stuff to do and then this got a little (a lot) out of hand but here it is <3#this got my mind going wild holy shit why did i wrote that much ahsjsbsisbwis#hope this was entertaining to read at least 😅#joker out#jance#fic#ask game#ask#mine#maca writes#< putting this in that tag even if it's not a fic ig#i might have made myself cry a bit but i blame my hormones acting up again
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Sleeping Beauty AU
The dragon waiting for Lucifer was Razzle, corrupted by Lilith's song as she was present when Lucifer made him. Lucifer's goal was not to hurt Razzle, instead fly around the area and use Razzle's fire while chasing him to burn the impenetrable thorns, while he figured out how to undo what Lilith did. He didn't want to think about what he may have to do to his ex-wife to stop this, so he focused on his true love waiting asleep in the tower. He made sure the last of the thorns actively in his way were dealt with before throwing a barrier over the hotel and running inside. Razzle was under orders to stop him, so he wouldn't cause damage anywhere else.
The hotel left completely empty was eerie, but Lucifer didn't mind as he ran to the top of the tower where Alastor was sleeping, and despite the dragon banging against the barrier to get in, Lucifer couldn't take his eyes off him. He was attracted to Alastor since the beginning despite his better judgement, but he packed it down until this exact moment. Knowing that after thousands of years in existence, his true love lay in front of him, waiting to be woken up.
He wanted to kiss Alastor then and there, but first he made sure he memorized the passage of the book that mentioned the cure so he could quote it verbatim if Alastor got the wrong idea. Only then, once he was sure, did he sit down beside Alastor, hopeful he would finally see his smile that had fallen since the curse took effect, and leaned down to kiss him.
The moment their lips brushed against one another, Alastor woke up with a start, taking a moment to remember where he was and how he got there, and he looked up at Lucifer. Lucifer was about to start quoting the book, when Alastor smiled, and in the most unromantic tone possible, said: "I should have known it was you."
Lucifer had to do everything in his power not to pull Alastor into a tight hug and not let go, the kiss for curse-breaking purposes was already a big step and he didn't want to push it, but Charlie threw open the door and did the tight hug for him, crying and apologizing for not having saved him, and Alastor assures her it's quite alright. It wasn't her fault. But Lucifer has to wonder, how did Charlie get in? Charlie tells them the kiss must have done something, because the thorns disappeared and Razzle was back to normal. Something happened with Lilith.
Alastor and Lucifer looked at one another. They needed to talk about the revelation of being each other's true love, but for the moment they had something bigger to worry about, and they would face it together.
👀
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spoilers for iwtv s2e4
my thoughts after a rewatch:
i know claudia hates the baby loves window play but she ate up that little song
the lulu role really is so humiliating :(
louis’ expressions whenever he watches these plays always kills me lmao he hates theater kids
louis and armand talking over each other to daniel
armands theater notes lol
claudia no eyebrow big eyeliner look is kinda cunty ngl
im a fan of sam the irish vampire
making claudia be lulu all the time oooh armand i hate u so bad
almost threw up watching louis and armand give different answers to the companion question IN FRONT OF THE COVEN that shit was so embarrassing
i wouldve kms if i was armand
vamp catfight
armand stuck in this situationship dont worry king we’ve all been there😔
literally telling each other i love you and still having the what are we conversation
“do you notice how hot the room gets when you two talk about the secret” plsssss
louis only able to use the fire gift when hes angry👀👀 gee i wonder if thats gonna come back👀👀👀👀👀
louis going🤨🤨 to the schizophrenia question like it came out of nowhere
armands face while louis talked about dreamstat why not just shoot me in the head
loving these dutch angles whenever daniel dissociates and gets an armand memory
santiago looks so good in the gold suit? robe thing??
claudia santiago friendship is killing me santiago i know what u are
claudia killing the guy singing baby lu
i like that you can tell claudias french has gotten better. nice small detail
i love scenes of louis and claudia just talking about non vampire things
santiago mimicking louis was pretty cool
buffoon sighting!!!
whole dinner scene bangs
the guy saying theres smth “fragile” about armand in the photo louis took and louis saying “no he’s anything but” and then the guy saying “you’ve captured the soul he hides” 🤌🤌
louis would never survive a 4 hour art school critique
daniel telling a girl he’d only do her if she had a paper bag over her head??????
claudeline truthers how are we feeling
context for the eating paper clip in the trailer
romeo!!
armand is so down bad its sick
madeline tailoring a yellow dress for claudia😟😟
the whole claudeline interaction was great
amadeo☹️🔫
MARIUS KILL YOURSELF!!!!!!!
the way armand talks about marius
MARIUS KILL YOURSELF x2!!!!!!
“no one has painted me in 400 years” fuck
madeline period blood moment. theres so much here about femininity and maturing might make a separate post about this scene
armand pinning claudia against a wall armand i hate you so bad
we already know that armand is powerful but seeing him choke and manhandle santiago really solidified that i think
picked another one over me!!
delainey is ACTINGGGGG
louis not believing claudia about armand ooooh louis i hate you so bad
love makes you stupid clock it
louis still referring to claudia as his daughter in his head (thru dreamstat)
louis just actively talking to himself girl do that in your head
park bench moment <3
“wanker” i giggled sorry
that suit is his favorite on him :(
“im a little wet” and armand instantly pulling out an umbrella, armand lighting his cigarette, armand calling him maitre
louis calling him arun and armand calling him maitre and then louis throwing away the lighter this fucking scene is cinematic art
the other coven members calling santiago maitre
i kinda like that daniel can hear them arguing from another room. i feel like its a very human experience? really domestic? even given the circumstances
armands eyes were never brown!!!
san francisco flashback episode might kill me im not kidding
insane way to end the episode
ok this was much longer than i thought it would be but this episode has a lot in it. each episode gets better and better and this is definitely my favorite of the season so far.
i am LOVING louis and armands relationship and also both of their story arcs and characterizations. their dynamic is kind of the opposite of what i, and i think a lot of other people, expected but it still makes total sense and im enjoying it a lot
god i love this show
#iwtv spoilers#interview with the vampire#vampterview#louis de pointe du lac#the vampire armand#loumand#iwtv s2e4
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do you have any retro voxval headcanons? I love that era so much 👀
Me too!I'm praying for flashbacks in season two, I think we deserve it :") But for now how I see it
After their first meeting, Vox decided to distance himself from the personal side of their relationship. He felt it was best not to sleep with Val anymore, aiming to keep business separate from pleasure, especially given Val's instability and the danger he posed. Vox already had complicated emotions about Alastor and didn't want to add another layer of complexity.
However, sticking to these rules was challenging because Valentino provided Vox with the emotional and physical satisfaction that Alastor withheld. Vox and Alastor were close, but Vox was increasingly frustrated that their relationship didn't match his expectations. Consequently, Vox often found himself waking up after yet another "one-night stand" with Val, promising each time it would be the last.
For Valentino, this period was particularly tough. After his death, he struggled to rely on anyone other than himself, especially someone who didn't always comply with his wishes. This led to frequent arguments between him and Vox, with Val often being at fault. (Alastor couldn't keep up with refilling Vox's glass when he came to his place just to bitch about Val.) If not for the fact that Val needed Vox's resources and connections, he might have ended their partnership. It was also exhausting to be entangled in the whole thing between Vox and Alastor, but that glowing dick was just too good. Despite his initial annoyance, Val grew to somehow like this weird dynamic because he lives for chaos and melodrama.
And despite the fact that Val was unbearable 50% of the time, Vox also needed him. Vox is a dirty capitalist—he committed a lot of crimes during his lifetime. But most of them were white-collar crimes; he knew how to trick someone into giving him something, but he didn't have the guts to violently rip something out of someone's cold, dead hands. That was necessary because the lifestyle that Rosie and Alastor introduced to Vox didn't really work for him. In my opinion, Alastor is not greedy. He wants to live comfortably and desires power and respect, sure, but look at the man: he doesn't give a single fuck about his material possessions. Similarly, Rosie just minds her own business, taking care of her people.
But Vox is a capitalist—he needs to expand. This time, he didn't have generational wealth, a pretty face, or even television in Hell. So, he needs capital, a big one, quickly if he ever wants to reach the status of a corporate overlord. There are only so many deals you can make; it takes time, effort, and playing a lot of political games. Then comes Val, showing him that violence can be plan A. He basically introduced Vox to the more mobster way of operating, and that's what they did before they were able to establish highly profitable companies.
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Fate’s Design
[Carlisle Cullen x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Not even fate can stop forbidden love. {GIF Credits: Pinterest}
WC: 2051
Category: Angst (with a side of fluff)
Can you tell I rewatched Twilight? 👀 Edward? Jacob? Nah, I’m team Carlisle all the way.
In all seriousness, this took me so long to write out since I’m in that stage of life where there’s no free time 😭
But, regardless, here’s a fic that no one asked for (and hopefully won’t mind 👀). So, uh… enjoy :)
『••✎••』
Funny, how the world works, how fate works.
The day you had first laid eyes on him, you could tell immediately there was something different about him, something... strange. Stranger than strange.
A simple hospital visit, a clumsy fall down the stairs, and here you were, stuck in a place of healing with the smell of antiseptics and disinfectant all around you. For a simple wrist sprang, being around deathly ill people who had no sense of common courtesy was the last thing you wanted to experience.
Still, it couldn't be helped, and so you endured. Endured until that one fateful encounter.
When the nurses brought him into the room, you couldn't help but stare. A young, handsome man who looked barely a few years older than you, pale, cold skin that reminded you of the snowy tundras, and bright eyes you swore turned gold in the light.
Strange, yes. Very strange. But a very good kind of strange, the kind of strange that was captivating.
Carlisle Cullen.
You couldn't help but smile as you thought of the name, as the memories came back to you. The first meeting, the second, and then the third. You remembered all of them, every single one, and the way your heart fluttered like a caged bird each time, wanting to break free.
How long had it been since that first meeting? Five months? Six?
You couldn't be sure, but it was enough.
Enough for you to know that you loved him.
How funny, how ironic, how cruel fate was, giving you someone to love and then making it impossible to be with him.
You were just an average girl with average interests and average talents who had a boring, average job that didn't pay much and was living an average life.
But you were human; he was not.
You were a creature that could live, grow, age, and eventually die while he was frozen in time, a beautiful, timeless statue with an old soul that lived a hundred years in the span of one.
You knew this, he knew this, and that was what held you both back.
Even though you loved him, even though when he looked at you, his eyes burned with the same emotions you felt, the two of you were still unable to come together.
You would’ve given up had it not been for your own stubbornness, your own will to hold on, to see this through to the end.
He was worth it, and you knew it.
And so, you decided it didn’t matter if your time with him would be short because you would spend it happily, without regret.
After all, a few months spent with him was better than none at all.
You found yourself storming into the hospital, pure determination set on your face as you went up to the reception desk and demanded to know where Carlisle Cullen was.
The nurse gave you an odd look but didn’t question you further, and after giving her the information she needed, she directed you to his office.
You were assured he was filing papers, so you didn’t bother with knocking. Instead, you barged in with the burning desire to make your mark, to make your presence known, to show him, without any doubt, how you felt.
You didn't care if he was startled by your sudden entrance, and as you approached him, he stood up, surprise written on his face.
"I’m done, Carlisle," you said, your tone final, a declaration. "I’m so done."
He tilted his head in confusion.
Your hands came to a fist as you rested them against his desk, eyes narrowed and burning.
"I'm done holding back," you said, voice steady. "If you don’t kiss me right now, I'll never forgive you."
Your name came out as a soft sigh from his lips, and you couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through you at the sound of it. The mellow, gentle tone that held your entire being was always catching you off guard, even after all this time.
It wasn’t fair; it really wasn't.
"Kiss me, goddamnit!" You yelled at him, the demand clear in your tone.
And, like always, he denied you. In fact, he practically told you to shut up in his own way by bringing attention that you were still… quite literally, in the hospital.
You didn’t care. It was obvious by the way you kept going at him, demanding he take action.
And then, a gush of wind.
Your eyes widened, and before you could utter a word, the door from behind slammed shut. Not enough to create a loud bang, but enough to get your attention, and when you looked over, his arm was extended out, hand resting on the door.
Just inches away from your head.
Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up at him.
He was towering over you completely, and the proximity made your breathing hitch. His gaze was intense and golden, and it burned right through you like it always did. But you weren’t scared, not even the slightest bit.
This was what you wanted, after all.
So you kept silent and waited for him to make the first move. Any move, really.
A few seconds passed, and then, ever so slowly, he lowered his head. But he didn't lean down far enough, no. Instead, his face inched closer and closer to yours until, finally, all you could see were his eyes.
And all you could think about was his lips.
"As much as I want to," he began, voice soft and smooth. "You and I both know it's not that easy."
"Yes, it is," you retorted, stubborn. "You're just making it hard."
"I'm being realistic."
"Realistic? Really?" Your face twisted into a scowl. "Says the man who's not even human."
"That's precisely why," he said. "You’re…"
His voice quivered, just slight enough to be noticeable. It made your heart ache, and you were ready to interrupt him, to say that it didn’t matter; nothing else did.
But you stopped yourself.
It was only right to hear what he had to say.
"You truly wish to want… this? To give up the happiness of your future, the family you deserve, to be drowned in sorrow, all for me?"
His words were sincere, his voice quiet, and the expression on his face was one you could barely comprehend.
"Drowned…? Drowned?!" You echoed his words; brows knitted in a deep frown. "Carlisle, I'm already drowning! Right now!"
You paused, trying to calm yourself, but you could feel tears prickling your eyes. This wasn’t how you had imagined it going.
"It hurts," you confessed, voice low. "It hurts me that you don’t understand, that you think so little of yourself."
Carlisle's breath caught, and his lips parted in surprise, but you weren’t finished yet.
"It hurts me that you think I could ever be happy without you," you continued, your voice rising a bit. “Carlisle, I have found happiness in you. I am happy with you. The day we met, I was a wreck; my wrist was a wreck… everything was a wreck. But then you came, and now, now I'm happy. You make me happy."
The look on his face was unreadable, but it didn’t deter you from speaking your mind.
"Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you see that you’ll always be twice the man than any other human being out there?"
Silence.
He didn’t answer, and the longer the silence stretched, the more your heart hurt. Carlisle was a good man; he was. He was a good doctor, a good father, and, of course, a good-looking guy.
He deserved the world.
And if the world couldn't give it to him, you would.
"If you can't see it, then fine," you finally spoke, and it was almost a whisper. "Then I'll do it for you. I'll tell you every day. I'll keep telling you until it sticks."
The corners of your mouth tugged upwards into a shaky smile.
"Even if I have to keep yelling at you."
He exhaled, and suddenly, he looked much more relaxed, and you realized that you had gotten through to him.
It made the tears that were gathering in your eyes spill over.
"At least I know you wouldn’t toss me aside when my personality eventually overpowers my looks," you mumbled, laughing.
"Toss you aside?"
There was a sudden, sharp edge to his tone, and when his hand came to rest under your chin, gently, carefully, your eyes shot up, staring into his own.
You didn't realize it, but the way you looked at him, the expression on your face, it made him see something different, something he never expected.
A woman who loved him. Truly, sincerely, deeply, and completely.
He couldn’t believe it, and yet, you were right there, in front of him, your eyes shining and reflecting nothing but adoration and admiration.
Your eyes were shining, but not with sadness, no, not anymore.
It was a beautiful sight, one he would remember for all of eternity.
"I'd be a fool to do that," he whispered, his tone sincere, and when his other hand came up, his fingers brushing over your cheek, a featherlight touch, he could hear your breath catch.
"A complete and utter fool."
You watched the smile grow on his lips, and it was so beautiful, it was unreal.
But this, the feeling of his hand on your skin, the coldness contrasted by the warmth of your own body, the gentleness of his touch, it was surreal.
"Carlisle," you murmured, and he was still staring at you, but there was a new intensity in his gaze. "Let me give you the happiness you deserve. Let me."
You took a small step forward, and his hand was still resting under your chin. You didn't dare move or speak again, not until you could read his face, the expression on his features.
It was difficult, however, and just when you thought he wouldn't say anything, he spoke.
"I can't guarantee the future or the happiness," he admitted. "Not for myself, and not for you, but-"
"But?" You couldn’t help but smirk.
"I can try," he answered. "For your sake, I'll try."
You should’ve expected the response after that, the speed at which his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you forward, and his other hand, moving downwards to rest on the small of your back.
You should've, but you didn't.
All you could do was stare at him, your eyes widening, and just when you opened your mouth to speak, to say something, anything, his lips were on yours, and all the coherent thoughts left you.
You could hear the thumping of your heart, loud, thundering, and it drowned out all the other sounds around you.
He was gentle and careful, and the kiss was nothing more than a brief, feather-light press of his lips, but it was enough. It was enough to set your whole body on fire, to have you lean in, to have your hands come up, grasping onto his lab coat for dear life.
You could feel the coldness of his skin, but the taste of his lips was indescribable.
He tasted sweet, like vanilla, and the longer his lips were on yours, the more the flavor lingered until you couldn’t remember how your own lips had ever tasted.
When he finally pulled away, it was as if the world was spinning and all the strength left your body.
"We're not in the clear just yet," he murmured, his gaze still intense, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "There are many things we have to talk about and many things to work out, but-"
"Carlisle," you breathed out, your grip on his coat tightening. "Don’t talk. Just relish."
You leaned forward, and he did the same, his eyes fluttering shut, and as your lips connected with his, your mind was filled with a single thought.
This.
This was right.
It was perfect, and the world was a better place.
The funny thing about fate is that if two people are meant to be, no matter the time, the place, or the circumstances, they'll find each other.
The two of you were living proof.
#carlisle cullen#carlisle cullen x reader#carlisle cullen x you#carlisle cullen x female!reader#carlisle cullen imagine#twilight#twilight series#twilight x reader#twilight fanfiction#carlisle cullen/reader#fanfic#x reader#reader#fanfiction#peter facinelli#peter facinelli x reader#edward cullen#twilight new moon#twilight eclipse#twilight fandom#twilight fic#twilight fluff#twilight angst#carlisle cullen angst#fluff#angst#alice cullen#carlisle cullen fanfiction#carlisle cullen gif#the twilight saga
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Cheeky Peek...👀
a/n: this is a sneak peak of that kinky smut i told yall about forever ago tehehe....i'm about halfway through with editing it! so i figured i'd let you see what will hopefully be up tonight! Harry is famous, but it's still kind of AU-ish? his fame is a feature but it's only briefly mentioned. ya know? let me know what ya think so far! :)
You were bored, and beyond ready to go home. You hated award season, selfishly. You knew what it meant for Harry, and you were always so proud of him, and his accomplishments. But dammit did you hate all that came along with it. The dressing up, and the cameras, not to mention the interviews. You’d only ever get a question or two thrown at you,but regardless, you were not built for it.
Harry though, he was a born natural. He didn’t love the attention all of the time, but you knew him well enough to know that he did get a bit of a kick out of the attention. And he knew how to handle it far better than you ever could. It made you feel all the more guilty when, all you wanted to do was stay home, and cook a nice meal together and watch your shows. But you were nothing if not supportive, always taking one for the team, even if the team was just Harry. “It’s just a few hours,” you’d tell yourself.“Just a few hours and then I can have him all to myself the rest of the night.” And that’s what you told yourself, and that's how you ended up here, at some after party, in a dress, vacuum sealed to your body in heels that feel like stilts, and a little too tipsy from the free-flowing champagne.
Harry had just gotten off the small stage,giving a speech about…something. And while you were so proud of him, and how he commanded a room, you hadn’t heard a word he said. You were too busy gawking at your charming, devilishly handsome boyfriend.
Harry works his way through the crowd, eyes locked on you and a dimples popped as he tries his best to make it to your side. He’s stopped a few times, gives some pleasentrises before he’s by your side again, kissing your temple.
“You, alright?” he askes. You nod with a hum, looking up at him over your champaign flute.
“Why are you looking at me like that,” Harry smirks, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you in. Harry knows the look, its a look you only ever give him when your in one of your moods. And it usually proceeds you sucking the soul out of him.
“Like what?” you ask, earnestly.
“Right,” He chuckles, eyes looking down at your lip tucked between your teeth.
“What? I’m not looking at you like anything!” You defend, leaning up to kiss his cheek. And then it dawns on him.
You don’t even realize just how you’d been looking at him. All pout, and doe eyes, begging to be fucked and taken care of like you deserve.
“Nothing, honey.” He places a hand on your cheek smirking before leaning and kissing your forehead “Let’s head out, hm? You look tired.”
“I’m fine! We can stay.” you lie, grateful that he’s suggested you head out early.
“Baby,” he says with a smile, but his tone is the one that makes your legs feel like Jell-O, “We’re going home. I did my obligation. I’ll go get the car. You meet me out front, after you’ve said your goodbye to everyone alright?” He askes, but it’s more like a demand.
You nod with a smile, finishing off your drink. He kisses the top of your head, and you watch him make his exit.
****
“You sounded great up there, Har.” You smile reaching for his hand resting on the shift. He laces your fingers togetyoukissigg by the back of your hand.
“Thanks, Baby Love.” he says with a gentle smile. He pulls up to a red light, looking over at you. “You looked gorgeous tonight baby.”
“You’ve said that already.” you giggle, feeling your cheeks warm up. You lean your head back against the head rest, nibbling at your bottom lip, “A few times actually.”
“And I meant it every time I said it. And I mean it now.” he smirks.
“You look good too.” you smirk.You reache your hand up to his hair at the name of his neck, playing with the curls there. “Your hair looks nice like this. It’s very 90’s Leo.” You giggle and he smirks.
“Yeah? ‘S that a good thing?”
“Mmhmm,” you nod, “and I like this.” You say reaching over tugging on the shirt he’s wearing. It’s a black semi sheer top, with some lace detail. It’s simple, but paired with the jewlry and the the fact that you can see his tattoos peaking through…you were more than pleased with tonights outfit.
“I thought you might.” He turns his head to kiss your palm that’s made it to his cheek, giving it two spongy kisses.
The light turns and his attention is back on the road, so you watch the side of his face instead. Watching as his dimple pokes out when he smiles. “It was written all over your face.” He chuckles after a few moments.
“What was?” You ask brows furrowed
“Those filthy thoughts of yours.” You don’t say a word, just clear your throat, nibbling on your bottom lip and turning your head looking forward. Harry looks over, eyes boring into the side of your face with a smirk. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Tell me what filthy thoughts were going on in that pretty head of yours. Hmm?”
“Noth-” you start.
“Don’t lie to me, you know what happens when you do.” You swallow thickly looking over at him. For the second time tonight he’s used that tone. That dominant tone that only ever comes out when you ///play/// together. And it’s got you feeling all out of sorts. You squeeze your thighs togetyoutrying to sooth the ache thats sprung up between your thighs. “Tell me.” He presses once more.
“Just….thinking about playing with your hair….while you’re between my legs.” you whisper nervously.
You’d been with Harry for a while now. And you were never one to be shy about discussing intimacy. But when he put on that voice, and with his hand heavy on your thigh, it always seemed to make you bashful.
“And?” he prompts. Harry knows there's more, there’s always more with you. “My little minx” Harry always joked.
Really he just wanted to work you up. Get you as frustrated, and hot and bothered as he could, because he had plans for tonight. Harry was finally going to reward you for being such a good girl, for him. Not just tonight and stomaching yet another event, but for all of awards season. You’ve always hated the cameras and parties. You’ve hated sharing him with the world. Selfish yes, but he felt the same about you. He couldn’t fathom how you felt every year around this time when he had to be ‘Harry Styles’ and not just your Harry, being ‘on’ all the time and away from you. But, you’ve been ///so/// good, and he knows he hasn’t been as attentive as he should be these last few months, so he was finally going to give you all the attention he’s deprived from you lately. All the attention you’ve been too shy, or scared to ask for.
“Your rings.” you finally blurt out.
“What about them?”
“I was thinking….” you pause trying to figure out the least crude way to phrase it,“About feeling them on my ass. I like when you spank me with them, and I like feeling them when…when you finger me too. Its nice.”
“You want me spank you baby?”Harry asks cautiously, you nod your head slowly. “Why?” he asks brows furrowed, with only a bit of concern “Did you do something to earn you a spanking?”
You and Harry were no stangers to spanking, or playing rough. But they were usally only reserved for your punishments, or ‘funishments’ as you so dubbed them, as you quite liked the feeling of Harry’s hands on you.
“Maybe.” you purred.
Now he’s intrigued. This was about teasing you before you got home. But now? This was about playing the game. His favorite game, yours too. He snaps his head over to you as you approached another red light.
“Maybe?” he quips, “You either broke a rule, or you didn’t baby? Which is it?”
You take a moment, trying to figure out which way to play it, which way would get you what you wanted most. You could continue to play coy, could lie, or you could be honest.
You chose the later.
“I did.” you coo, biting your bottom lip.
“Hmm,” He hums, leaning over the concoul to get a better look at you. Your eyes were a bit glassy already, a look you only really ever got when you the two of you played. When you were feeling submissive. “And what rule would that be?”
You look down at his hand that found its way from your thigh to become tangled with yours, twirling the ‘H’ and ‘S’ rings on his fingers. “No panties.” You mumbled.
He heard you, but he really enjoyed making you repeat things, especially if he knew that you were a little embarrassed. “Louder baby. And look at me.” he demands softly.
“I’m not wearing any panties.”
“No?” He mocks. You shake your head as the light turns green. Harry smirks at you, before, slowly pressing the accelerator, eyes back to the road.
“Why would you do that baby? Go to such an important event, a room full of people with no panties on?” he asks. He knows why, or at least he suspects. But he wants to hear you say it. Likes to tease you, yes, maybe humiliate you a little for being his perfect little slut.
“I was thinking about the last time. Last week and how we…snuck away.”
He smirks looking over at you, with lust filled eyes he lifts your hand to his lips and kisses the back of your hand again. He rembers it fondly, as one of the best quickes you’ve had. Definetly the riskiest you’ve ever been, and he’s not stopped thinking about it since. And apparently neither have you.
“You didn’t wear any panties so it would be easier for me to fuck you in the bathroom again? Is that it?” he probed.
“Yes,” you squeak.
Harry rolls to a stop, at yet another red light. Cursing the fact that it seems they’ve not made a single one on your ride back. He looks over at you, dimples out, eyes dark with lust.
“You like being a slut in public baby?” You nod. Chewing on your bottom lip. He reaches up, and pulling it from you teeth, running his thumb over it. “Why didn’t you ask, hmm? You know how to ask for what you want?” you shrug your shoulders, squeezing your thighs tighter together. Harry takes notice and presses further, “Instead you were looking at me like a cock drunk whore.” he tisks, “In front of all those people. If I saw it, you know everyone else did too. Don’t you,sweetheart?”
“I didn’t - I don’t know.” You pouts
“It’s okay baby.” he chuckles, “I’ll take care of you when we get home okay. We’re almost there.
“Yes Sir.” you say, with a dopy grin. The honorific just slipped out, before you realized. You may have been slightly embarrassed if it werent for the promise of what’s to come later tonight.
“Good girl.” He praises, leaning over the consol. He kisses you once, twice, and then a third time before you hear honking behind you.
Harry pulls away from your kiss, seeing the lights turned. There’s another impatient honk before Harry pulls off muttering an “asshole” under his breath, looking in the rear view mirror. You look out your window. Trying to keep yourself from squirming too much as Harry’s hand rested on your thigh, lightly massaging it.
#cheeky peek#sneak peak#fic preview#harry x reader#harry x y/n#harry x yn#harry x you#harry fanfic#harry fanfiction#harry fan fic#harry fiction#harry fandom#harry writing#harry imagine#harry imagines#harry blurbs#harry blurb#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles x yn#harry styles x y/n#dom!harry#dom!harry x reader#dom!harry styles#dom!harry styles x reader#harry smut#harry styles smut#dom!harry styles x yn#dom!harry x yn#dom!harry styles x y/n
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so I had a dream where Owen is drunk and outs himself to Curt...
do with that what you will.
Oh god 👀
Okay that could go a number of different ways, but fortunately, we all know how fruity Curt is, so let me try and take this in the least(?) Angsty direction that I possibly can...
Owen woke up on the morning of a bleak Sunday, with a headache perfectly tuned to the grey morning it had turned out to be, and a weight against his chest. At first, he thought it was a strange way the sheets had fallen over him, but then he came to realise that he wasn't actually in bed at all, but draped across the couch in the place he was temporarily sharing with his American operative partner.
And the weight on his chest?
Well… That was the American in question.
Laying on top of him. Fast asleep.
Owen startled, shifting so quickly out of this position— that was evidently comfortable for the both of them— that he managed to wake his partner up in the process. His eyes were wide, and he looked down towards Curt for an explanation, hoping to god that there was some way to rationalise how they had clearly slept the entire night.
"Mega? What the… hell are you doing?!"
He was beyond the point of words. There was something in the back of his mind that said he had done something last night that had led to Curt waking up on top of him, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what. They were talking last night, weren't they? Trying to get to know each other a little better…. And there was alcohol involved, as far as the headache revealed, anyway.
But he'd always been so controlled. Ever since figuring himself out, and figuring out for himself the reason his agency would want to hunt him down if ever they found out, he'd made sure not to drink in the company of anyone he wasn't comfortable with. While Curt was a nice man, as far as these things went, and while the two of them had been professional partners on more than one occasion, Owen wasn't entirely sure whether he'd go as far as saying he trusted him enough to get drunk in his presence.
But apparently, that very thing had happened the night before, and it had left them here.
The two of them resumed a position on the couch that separated them, and Curt shot him an apologetic glance. "Must've gotten late…" He excused quickly, lacing one of his hands within the other and trying his hardest to avert his gaze. It was hard to do that, though, after what the two of them had gone through last night… He was making excuses for himself, of course, because it was clear that Owen didn't remember what they'd talked about, at least not in the immediate moment.
He tried to offer a kind of peace. There was little he could do to explain the fact that he'd woken up— and had, in fact, fallen asleep— leaning against his chest, without Owen having the proper context as to why. Once the blur of sleep had passed and he'd woken up a little bit more, they'd talk it over then, but there was really only one thing he could do while the tension was still this high. "I need to wake up before we dive into… That. Coffee?"
Owen scrubbed a hand over his face and nodded blearily. "Please." And god only knows he was going to need it, too. How had he let himself make a mistake of this weight? How had he let himself slip, if indeed that was what had happened… There was no other explanation for it, and it was barely something he could blame on the alcohol.
He stared at the mostly empty bottle of liquor that was sitting on the coffee table as if the two of them had only just finished their late night of boozing, wondering what had been said and what he'd done to end up asleep… with another man… on a couch.
===
"Nah, c'mon. I barely know anything about you! sure, the first couple times we've worked together was nothing more than a coincidence, but damn, they're making us do it again, and I think there's a point this stops just being chance…" Curt pointed out, leaning against the counter in his kitchen. Owen had been assigned to the states, and because he'd worked with Curt a few times before, Curt had offered to put him up for the duration of his stay, instead of spending the time in some cheap, shitty hotel room, where he'd have to break his back just to get a good night's sleep.
But then he'd insisted that they talk, and that was fine as far as these things were concerned, but it was when he suggested bringing out the booze that Owen got a little worried. Sure, his assignment wasn't until the Monday, so he had the whole weekend to sort himself out (since he'd arrived early), but the thought of participating in such an activity with a man who he'd previously only worked with sparked a little concern. "I'm not sure…"
"You don't hafta work till Monday, that's on you for getting here this early…"
"Yes, but—"
"What? You don't drink?" Curt looked him up and down, and shrugged. "I mean, that's fine and all…"
"No, I… Do drink, but—" He couldn't think of a good enough protest in time, because the moment that he admitted that he was, in fact, partial to a good drink, Curt lit up a little bit more.
"Sure you don't wanna?"
And after that, he'd lost most of the fight that may or may not have been present in him. It had been a long flight and a longer journey, and the lag was starting to catch up to him. He couldn't deny the fact that the warm flood of whiskey in his system would've made the deep tiredness settling into his very bones a little more manageable. He conceded with a sigh, and an all too naive declaration of "I suppose a drink or two won't hurt," to which Curt grinned.
"That's the spirit!"
===
Curt returned to the couch in a matter of minutes with two mugs of fresh coffee, and as soon as Owen had his in his hands, he was absently tapping his fingernails against the warm porcelain. Part of him didn't dare to ask what had gone down, in case Curt had a perfect recollection of what he'd said, and it was something he'd rather not hear. But, at the same time, he was curious as to how the two of them had ended up as they had been.
First port of call was coffee. That was a necessary step in both waking him up, and trying to jog his short term memory even slightly. Last night, he had arrived in America, and he'd taken up the offer to drink with a man who barely crossed the 'friend' boundary, and then a series of unknowable somethings led to the two of them falling asleep together. And he was a little unnerved in knowing those events happened in that order, because that likely meant they'd made mistakes, where mistakes shouldn't have been made.
It woke him up a little more than he expected, and it dawned on him that he wasn't entirely sure when the last time he'd had coffee was, given that it was often far too strong for his tastes, especially first thing on a morning. This was necessary, though. He needed the rush to better explain the happenings of last night.
Curt seemed a little more relaxed than he was. At least he was able to sink a little into the sofa as he nursed his own mug. The only difference was that he looked a little more uncertain, as if it was him who had set into motion this series of mistakes, and he was the one with something to say about it.
"Where do we start?" It was the only question that really mattered, the only one he could think to ask that made any semblance of sense. Owen felt the tension in his shoulders, resting dormant and adding that annoying slight of strain to his every move.
"How much do you remember?" Curt asked cautiously, turning so that the two of them were better facing one another.
This was a question to which Owen tried to genuinely find an answer. He was trying to assimilate his memories, and what little remained beyond the haze of everything, but there wasn't a lot that he would consider useful. "Not… As much as I'd like to, I'm afraid. I made it here around seven, perhaps later… And I'd barely been here an hour when you suggested we… How'd you put it, 'get to know each other'. You suggested bringing out the spirits, and after the flight I'd had, there was little in the way of argument, so… I took you up on the offer."
"That's… Awfully specific." Curt hummed. "Thought you said you didn't remember a lot."
"That's not a lot."
"What time was your flight in the morning? Where from?"
"Six thirty, from the fourth terminal at Heathrow," Owen answered automatically, without having to think about it. Curt laughed, and it was in that moment that Owen realised that their definitions of 'not a lot' were likely vastly different from each other.
"Good god."
"Okay… I see your point… Other than the specifics, I don't remember what we talked about all too well… It's a little blurred, I'm afraid."
Curt hummed, trying to think about this in a way that made sense to him. He didn't remember a great deal either, but it seemed Owen had him outmatched for exactly how much. He remembered a little of their conversation, and what had gone down that night, but it was clearly something that was going to take the both of them to figure out. "Okay, well, I'm not exactly clear either. We got to drinking, right? Must've had a few, I swear that bottle was nearly full when we started…"
"Really?"
"I think so… Anyway, it was all casual at first. I mean, the two of us are barely friends, right? And I just wanted to get to know you a little better, like you said. So, we just started talking about ourselves… Y'know, how we got into spying, why you were in America…"
"Oh, right. Of course." Owen nodded, following along. How the two of them had gotten into the industry made sense, that was a good place to start. It was always a decent point of conversation in a professional matter, and especially among two who were so similar in nature after all was said and done. "I remember you saying something about… wanting to do something for the people that wasn't what everyone else was doing. Wanting to stand out a little from the crowd, is that right?"
"Yeah, that's pretty much the exact reason I got into all of this… It's less about wanting to make that kinda impact that everyone else is making, when there's the option for me to do something better."
"Makes sense, I can't say I blame you for that."
"And you're in the country to uncover some kinda arms deal, yeah?"
"One hundred and fifty grand's worth of explosives and arms. Quite the quarry, if I dare say so." Owen recalled that much from reading his briefing file in any spare moment he could while he was still alone. It needed revising when he was less hungover, but that was a problem for a few hours time. Right now, there was a more pressing matter at hand.
Curt whistled, impressed. "It'd take most people an age to make that much."
"Tell me about it."
The coffee was doing something to clear his mind enough that he was starting to see how the conversation played out last night. As a matter of fact, they had started the night seated in different places, and Curt kept subtly adjusting himself into different positions on the armchair as the time progressed. He was right, they had both taken several drinks each, and their conversations had taken a rather merrier turn. "We didn't stop at the professional, did we? I seem to recall bringing up things we'd done in the past, and you mentioned how much you hate getting intelligence jobs."
"Mhm," Curt nodded, Owen's phrasing bringing this to mind in exactly the right way. "Yeah, I do. God, they always make you get with some girl you've gotta charm all the way to the bedroom, and then you've gotta pretend like you enjoy that part of the job while she's taking your shirt off, and all you want to do is find out what her associates are getting up to behind closed doors."
That was mutual. Of course, there was a reason behind that hatred on Owen's end, but it wasn't like that was something he'd ever told anyone. He'd always taken Curt— so long as he'd known him— for the type who seemed happy to charm a woman and take those assignments in his stride. But the way he'd talked about it couldn't be denied… If he was more passionate about it, Owen would've said that he outright hated it. But, that only led to further speculation as to the reason why.
The penny dropped.
There was only one real reason why someone wouldn't enjoy the passionate part of the job, or the part that involved waking up next to a slew of different women all because information was needed out of them. There was only one reason why someone wouldn't enjoy the thrill of being with a woman, even just for a night.
The penny clattered to the metaphorical ground in Owen's mind. His face heated up furiously, to the point where Curt took notice.
"Owen?"
"… I think I know what I admitted to last night."
Curt sighed, a little out of it still. This progression didn't look good, especially not with the way that Owen had reacted to it. His brow furrowed, and he almost dared himself to ask him to continue. That, as it turned out, was an unnecessary step, since it seemed Owen had also figured out how they had ended up spending the night on top of each other.
"… Curt, if I may ask, there is a reason you don't like sleeping with women on the job, isn't there?"
It was just the two of them, as it had been the night before. There was nobody else around, and the whole reason this building was classified as a safehouse was because nobody could infiltrate, either. So, they had gotten drunk. Curt had admitted to the reason why he didn't like sleeping with women, and Owen must've agreed. The two of them had fallen asleep that night under the alarming pretense that they were just the same, when all came down to it, in the strangest and most sudden solidarity that one could hope to experience.
Curt seemed to want to freeze up, like someone had caught him out for something they really shouldn't know, but then remembered that they'd clearly gone over all of this the night before. He let the tension drop from his shoulders— something Owen really wished was that easy— and gave in with a resigning nod. "And you too, right? There's gotta be a reason we ended up…"
"Yes."
"So you're…"
"… Yes."
===
"Yeah, no it's never been my thing to get in with a lady… 'M not into 'em." Curt shook his head, emptying his glass with a single tilt of his wrist.
"Not into… Women?"
"No." Curt answered, a little too quickly. "Never was, don't think I ever will be…"
Owen nodded, for to a revelation like this, he had little in the way of a better answer. He was in exactly the same boat. The two of them were one and the same, cut from the same cloth. That made them more alike than he'd realised. "Me neither," He hummed, because his mind was clouded, and he didn't have the chance to think it through, but he didn't care because finally— finally— there was someone just like him.
Curt's eyes went wide, and he leaned forwards again to see whether he'd heard Owen correctly. "Wait, hol' on, you… You're… Y'know— like me? We're—?"
"I s'pose we are."
"What're the chances..?"
"Wouldn't 've bet on it, 's for sure. Not good odds, finding 'nother gay agent."
#spies are forever#saf#curtwen#agent curt mega#owen carvour#void offering#star mail#nova's tags →#i had a lot of ideas for this one. it was always just a matter of which one made the draft#there's surprisingly little chance that it'd end badly though#especially since curt's gay himself#if there's only curt in the room then theres no way it could go badly#but this is me. i had to make it at least slightly tense...
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Hey Bacon, can I please request 20 with Kishibe if it hasn't been done already? 👀
You don't know exactly what drew you to this man, but you knew you never wanted to let him go. He's rough around the edges, but to you, he's a sweetheart. You two find a comfortable rhythm of falling for each other, even though he is scared to let you in too much some times. He wonders if maybe someone like you is much more suited for a sweeter, less scarred man.
Though you can't help yourself. Kishibe is handsome, and he's gruff in all the right ways. He shows you comfort like you never knew existed. He's fun in a lot of ways too, making you laugh and feel so good inside. You know that this man is the one you'd spend your life with if he'd just allow himself to bring down some of those walls.
Still Kishibe keeps some things from you and his life is private in a lot of ways. He wants to shield you from the evils of this world if he can. But you're just too eager to jump into his life and show him how tender and soft things can be.
After a date one night, you invite him back to your place. He feels nervous because he knows you'll probably want to push this relationship to the next step. And it's not that he doesn't want to fuck you; fuck, he's been wanting to pound you into the mattress since he's met you almost. But the minute he passes that threshold with you, it might make things complicated for you.
Still, you're ever the temptress. You wear the cutest dress and those fishnet stockings he adores. He's sitting by the window, a cigarette dangling on his lips. You then come closer, straddling his lap. Kishibe grunts, pulling you closer.
"You're so damn sweet," he grunts as he kisses you. He tastes of liquor and cigarettes.
"And you're sweet too," you compliment him. He sighs softly, trying to accept this love and praise.
Your hands are on his shoulders, massaging them softly. You press kisses to his stubbly face, and then lower to his neck. He smells so good; always a little smokey and a bit like leather. There's a tinge of iron. But it's never bad, it always comforts you. It means he's right here with you, alive and well.
He tries to push you off, but his body is saying otherwise. Just having you on his lap has him rock hard in his pants. He puts out the cigarette in the ashtray, then he wraps his arms around you. He kisses you softly and tenderly. You try to deepen it, but he won't take the bait.
Finally you look him in the eyes, "Kishibe..."
He looks away, a bit ashamed of himself.
"You're still holding back." You massage his shoulders again and then slowly drag your hands down his chest. Button by button, you are undoing his shirt. "Just let go for me."
Within seconds, you're pushed back onto the couch with a loud squeal escaping you. Kishibe smirks at you before he kisses you hungrily.
"Are you sure you want me to let go? Cause once I do, I'll never be able to let you go."
You smile sweetly, "Perfect, because I never want to let you go either."
#bacon.writes#kishibe x reader#kishibe x you#kishibe x y/n#csm kishibe x reader#csm kishibe x you#chainsaw man#chainsaw man x reader
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13 and 14 please for the beloved boys?
(.maybe we'll learn why Quinn's mom and aunt can't look him in the eyes 👀👀)
13) Does your OC have a good relationship with their parents or no?
A very complicated question, for both 🤌
As a kid, Quinn had a fairly normal relationship with his parents. He'd always found his dad a bit odd and lame, but he was very close with his mother. Then [redacted] things happened and that all changed 🙃 (nope, I'm not gonna reveal this stuff yet because reasons) but yeah--after that, his relationship became, ah...very strained. Currently, he's been trying and failing to reconnect with his father, but they don't really have much in common and it's all a bit awkward. His dad still tries to make an effort though. As for his mum--he hasn't spoken to her in years 🤐
Vincent had a similar bond with his mother. She was quite a reserved woman, and rarely spoke up in a public setting, but she was far more energetic and loving behind closed doors. Due to the prejudices of the time, they were often shunned or blatantly discriminated against (Vincent's own paternal grandparents refused to acknowledge either of their existences), so having such a close connection meant they could protect each other, in a way. Conversely, Vincent didn't have much of a relationship with his father. He was a cold, austere man, often too busy with work to be around. Vincent always assumed his father hated him, tbh, even though he made strides to put him in all the best schools and social circles, despite the obvious racism and intolerance of his contemporaries. He'd even been the one to pull strings and demand his enrollment into flight school, something that had been unprecedented for black people at the time. But in spite of all those sacrifices, they never bonded, or even spoke at all outside of forced propriety.
14) What about any siblings, do they have any and is their relationship good?
Quinn has a sister, Nora, who's older than him by a few years. They pretty much had a typical sibling dynamic in their youth--petty fighting, Quinn being a little shit, Nora trying to boss him around, etc. After 'certain incidents', she became far more protective of him. There was a lot of guilt there, and Nora felt like she failed him and will always blame herself for not protecting him. As adults, their relationship is a bit forced. Quinn had been distant for a few years, not making any attempt to be around his family, so they're almost strangers now. In recent years, Nora got married and now has a step-son. She's been trying to get Quinn to connect more, wanting him to open up to the kid, but it's been awkward and ineffective for the most part. I like to think that things will get better eventually...
#asks#quinncent#oh Vincent doesn't have any siblings btw#just him and his momma 🥺#yes I'm being vague about Quinn on purpose#there's a lot of heavy shit here that I need to sort out...
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