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pucksandpower · 15 hours

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Hydrate or Diedrate

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: after an issue with his car leaves Charles racing without water for the entire Miami Grand Prix, he wants to hydrate with something only you can give him

Warnings: 18+ content and lactation

The Miami sun beats down relentlessly as you make your way through the paddock after the race. Charles had an eventful day, managing to bring his Ferrari home in P3 despite having no water in his car for the entire Grand Prix.

You spot him being interviewed by the broadcast team, sweat still glistening on his face and his hair matted to his forehead. Though he seems coherent, you can tell he’s feeling the effects of the dehydration.

As soon as the interview wraps, you rush over and take his arm. “Come on, let’s get you out of this heat.”

Charles gives you a grateful smile. “I’m fine, I promise.”

You shake your head sternly. “Don’t give me that. You’re clearly dehydrated.” You glance around and wave over Charles’ best friend. “Can you take Jules for a bit?”

Joris nods and gladly takes your four-month-old son from your arms, expertly cradling the bundled infant. “Of course, go take care of him.”

You guide Charles into the air-conditioned Ferrari motorhome and down the hall to his driver’s room, closing and locking the door behind you. Charles immediately faceplants onto the couch with a groan.

“It was so hot out there. I could barely see straight those last few laps,” he mumbles into the cushion.

You settle onto the couch next to him, rubbing his back soothingly. “I know, I could see it on the screens. You did amazing to hang on for that P3.”

Charles rolls over onto his back, squinting up at you. “Do we have any water in here?”

“Of course.” You grab a bottle from the mini-fridge and hand it to him.

He wastes no time downing half of it in one long gulp. “Ahh, that’s better.” His eyes drift down to your chest, where your nursing bra peeks out from under your shirt. “Actually … I have an even more effective idea for rehydrating.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh? And what might that be?”

Charles sits up, a playful glint in his eyes as he sets the water bottle aside. He reaches for you, bunching the fabric of your shirt in his fists. “This.”

With one deft tug, he frees your breasts from the confines of your top. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he takes in the sight.

“You know that’s not really what they’re for, right?” You tease, trying not to get too flustered.

Charles scoots closer until your bodies are flush together. His hands roam over your chest reverentially. “I think this is the perfect use for them.”

You shiver at his touch, arousal already beginning to pool in your core. “I don’t know, they’re usually just for feeding Jules ...”

“Well, think of this as multi-purpose.” Charles leans in to press kisses along the swell of your breasts.

Despite your banter, you’re already melting under his touch. “I … ah … I suppose you could use some rehydrating.”

With a low hum of approval, Charles takes one rigid peak into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it firmly, coaxing out the first few drops of your milk.

A soft gasp escapes your lips at the wet heat of his mouth. You tangle your fingers in his sweat-damp curls to hold him close. “Charlie ...”

He only responds by increasing the suction, hungrily drawing more of your sweet essence. You bite your lip to stifle a moan as he switches to your other breast, lavishing it with the same rapt attention.

All too soon, Charles pulls back with a satisfied smack of his lips, chin and mouth glistening. “Delicious ...”

“You have no idea how hot that was,” you pant, completely transfixed by the erotic image he makes.

A cocky grin tugs at the corner of Charles’ mouth. “Oh, I think I do.” He presses his palm to the front of his race suit, making it obvious just how aroused he is. “Want to help me with this?”

“Absolutely,” you purr, pushing him back against the arm of the couch to straddle his lap.

Charles groans as you grind down against the hard bulge in his suit. “You’re a tease, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one.” You lean in to capture his lips in a heated kiss, all tongue and teeth.

One of Charles’ hands threads into your hair to angle your mouth more firmly against his. The other drifts down to grope your ass, pulling your hips flush with his.

You rock against him shamelessly, addicted to the delicious friction. He meets each grind with a roll of his own hips, quickly reducing you both to panting, needy messes.

“I want you,” Charles rasps against your lips. “Need to be inside you ...”

“Yes ...” You fumble for the zipper of his suit, desperate to free him. “God, yes, take me ...”

He surges up to kiss you again, all heat and urgency and unbridled want. You can taste the tang of your own milk on his tongue and it’s so dirty, so sinfully hot that it makes your head spin.

Finally, you manage to tug the fire-retardant fabric down far enough to free Charles’ straining erection. He hisses at the friction of your hand on his bare length.

“Hurry, mon amour,” he pleads, deft fingers already working to divest you of your underwear. “Need to be inside you ...”

No sooner is the scrap of lace pushed aside than Charles is guiding himself to your entrance. You sink down in one endless slide, stretching deliciously around his girth to take him to the hilt.

“Fuck ...” He bucks up into you with a choked groan.

You whimper at the exquisite fullness, rolling your hips to take him even deeper. Already you can feel the tight heat beginning to gather low in your belly.

Charles grips your hips hard enough to bruise, guiding your movements as you start to bounce on his length. His head falls back against the couch with a thump, mouth falling open in ecstasy.

“You feel so incredible,” he pants, meeting your thrusts with shallow rolls of his own hips. “So hot, so tight ...”

“Only for you,” you gasp out between moans, bracing your hands on his heaving chest.

He slides one calloused palm up to toy with your neglected breast, rolling the stiff peak between his fingertips. You cry out at the new stimulation, walls fluttering around him.

“Going to come just like this,” Charles grunts, increasing the pace. “Make such a mess of you.”

The thought of him painting you with his release has you clenching down hard. You ride him with wild abandon now, chase that electric high.

Charles leans up to suckle at your other breast, drinking you down greedily even as his hips snap up to meet yours. “Yes, just like that, fuck!”

With a broken shout, your orgasm slams into you like a freight train. Every muscle locked rigid, toes curled, as molten bliss washes over you in waves. Charles follows a beat later, still thrusting fitfully as he spills deep inside you with a guttural growl.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room are your harsh pants mingling together as you float down from your highs. Charles peppers sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder and neck, gradually gentling the movement of your joined bodies.

“Incredible,” he murmurs against your salty skin. “Absolutely incredible.”

You hum in satiated agreement, nosing at his hairline. Eventually you pull back far enough to take in his thoroughly debauched state — hair wild, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and red.

So beautifully wrecked because of you.

“Feeling rehydrated now?” You can’t resist teasing.

Charles lets out a breathless chuckle, warm palms sliding up and down your back. “More than I could have ever imagined.”

But the sound of the door opening makes you both freeze.

“Oh mon dieu!” Joris exclaims with a bark of laughter, looking thoroughly amused as he stands in the doorway cradling Jules. “I was just coming to return your son, but it looks like you two are already hard at work on the next one!”

You yelp and scramble to cover yourself as Charles groans in embarrassment, burying his rapidly reddening face against your chest.

Joris is already backing out of the room, Jules blissfully unaware as he continues chuckling to himself. “Never mind, never mind! I’ll just leave you lovebirds to it ...”

The door clicks shut and you can’t help but dissolve into nervous giggles against Charles’ shoulder. He joins in, the rumble of his laughter vibrating between your bodies.

“Well, that was mortifying,” he says once you’ve both calmed down some.

“At least Jules is too young to understand.” You press your smile to Charles’ hair. “Though Joris is never going to let us live that down.”

Charles groans again, but you can see the beginnings of a sheepish grin. “I don’t even care. That was more than worth the embarrassment.”

He tightens his embrace around you, settling in to simply enjoy the closeness for a while longer. You’re inclined to agree — a little teasing is a small price to pay for such blissful rehydration.

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yuutx · 2 days

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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐎𝐇, 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ~ ! (𝒢𝐸𝒯𝒪 𝒮𝒰𝒢𝒰𝑅𝒰)

sailor! geto suguru x f! siren! reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ mythological creature au ﾉ nsfw + unprotected sex / raw sex ﾉ size kink ﾉ handjob ﾉ dirty talk ﾉ praise kink ﾉ slight degrading kink ﾉ hair pulling ﾉ clit play ﾉ tongue kissing ﾉ riding ﾉ orgasm denial ﾉ creampie ﾉ msub → mdom + fdom → fsub ﾉ not proofread ! ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

i was literally ab 2 give up on this fic,, supa supa glad i didn't ! ! i rllie luv this idea 'n had a fun ( but sorta frustratin ) time writing it ! art credits go 2 @/shiraki_shiki on twitter ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

The water lapped against the side of the boat, the gentle current rocking the wooden vessel. The sun was beginning to set, the sky painted in hues of pinks and purples, the colors reflecting off the waves. The wind rustled through the leaves of the trees, a faint breeze carrying the scent of sea salt and pine, the air heavy with humidity. Geto hummed softly, the tune a familiar one, the sound of his voice echoing in the silence. You swam beneath the surface, keeping just out of view, peering up at him through the crystal-clear waters.

Your tail swished, propelling you through the water, your scales shimmering in the dying sunlight. You watched him, studying his every movement, the way his hands moved deftly, his fingers curling around the rope, tying the knots securely. He worked with ease, his expression relaxed, his dark hair swept back, a few strands falling loose. You found yourself drawn to him, your curiosity growing, the urge to get closer, to learn more about him, gnawing at you. The many sailors you had seen before had been quite.. unsightly, but he was different. His skin was smooth and pale, his features sharp and angular, a strong jawline and high cheekbones. And his eyes, his eyes were what caught your attention the most. They were dark and intense, like twin pools of obsidian, a deep, endless void, the pupils dilated, the reflection of the sun dancing on the surface of the water. You felt entranced by them, your gaze never wavering, the intensity of his stare making your skin prickle.

You drifted closer, your fins fanning out, the tips of them breaking the surface, rippling through the waves.

A soft, delicate voice caught his attention, the melodic sound drifting towards him, his name being carried by the wind. He looked up, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. He scanned the horizon, his brow furrowed, a spark of unease flickering in his eyes. He had heard that same sound before, a few nights prior, and he had dismissed it, assuming it was the product of his imagination, but now he was certain that he had heard it, a haunting, beautiful voice calling out to him.

His heart hammered in his chest, his pulse quickening, his palms sweating. There was something in the water, he could feel it. It was watching him, waiting. A creature, a beast. He had read the legends, he knew the stories. The tales of sirens, half-fish, half-human, that lured sailors to their deaths, singing their hypnotizing songs. What he didn't know was that you didn't want to kill him, in fact, quite the opposite.

You could smell him, his scent drifting towards you, his blood pumping through his veins, the scent of his skin and sweat filling the air. The water was tinged with a metallic tang, his fear making your mouth water, the scent of him invading your nostrils.

"What are you doing out here all alone?"

He turned his head, searching for the source of the voice, but he couldn't see anything, the shadows too thick, the ocean too vast. He swallowed, the sound loud and harsh, his throat dry. "Show yourself." He demanded, his voice strained. You chuckled, the sound echoing through the air, the tone laced with amusement. You swam closer, the surface of the water rippling around you, your tail splashing in the waves. Your fins brushed against the hull of the ship, the contact sending a shiver down your spine. You hummed, a low, musical tone, the notes flowing freely, the sound lilting and sweet. He froze, his eyes wide, his breath catching in his throat. "Where are you?" He called out, his voice cracking, his fingers clutching the rope, his knuckles turning white. "I'm here." You answered, your lips curling into a smirk, a mischievous glint flashing in your eyes. He turned, his gaze roaming over the surface of the water, the moonlight reflecting off the ripples, a faint shimmer catching his eye. You hummed again, the notes flowing freely, the sound reverberating in the air. He shivered, goosebumps prickling his skin, the sound wrapping around him, sinking into his bones.

"You're a pretty one, aren't you? All big and strong. So handsome." You purred, the compliment sounding genuine, the praise sending a rush of heat through him. He felt dizzy, lightheaded, his pulse thundering in his ears. "Why don't you come a little closer, hm? Let me take a look at you." You cooed, the words dripping from your tongue like honey. He hesitated, his muscles tense, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He knew the consequences, he knew the risk. But he couldn't deny the pull, the magnetic force that drew him in. He inched closer, the boat creaking beneath his feet, the wood groaning under his weight. The scent of him was intoxicating, the heady, masculine scent making your mouth water, your fangs bared, the points digging into your bottom lip. "What's your name, sailor boy?" You asked, the question laced with a playful edge, the words teasing.

"Geto. Geto Suguru." He answered, his tone clipped, his gaze sweeping over the ocean. His eyes widened as you came into view, your tail glistening in the moonlight, the scales shimmering, a rainbow of colors reflected on the surface of the water. Your fins twitched, the translucent appendages rippling, the thin membrane stretching outwards. "Sugu.. what a cute name." You giggled, your voice taking on a flirtatious tone, the sound making his heart skip a beat.

"Thank you." He mumbled, his cheeks flushing, the compliment flustering him. He stared at you, taking in your features, the soft curves of your body, the shape of your waist, the swell of your breasts, the delicate features of your face. You were beautiful, ethereal. You reminded him of a doll, a porcelain sculpture. His eyes darted to your face, his gaze flickering over your skin, your scales, the shimmering iridescence of your fins. "You're not human." He whispered, his words coming out as a statement rather than a question.

"Of course I'm not, silly." You raised a hand, reaching out, your fingers grazing the hull of the boat, the tips of your claws raking against the wood. "But I think you already knew that, didn't you, Suguru?" He shivered, his body reacting to the way you said his name, the sound of his given name on your lips making him weak. You smiled, your teeth flashing, the points glinting in the light, the sight of them making his heart leap into his throat. "Tell me, sailor boy, have you ever been with a girl like me before?"

You asked, your voice taking on a husky, breathless note, a hint of desperation creeping into your tone. Sirens weren't meant to be alone, and the lack of contact was beginning to wear on you. "No." He murmured, his mind wandering, the image of you, your naked body pressed against his, flashing in his mind.

"No? Hm.." A feigned pout formed on your lips, your gaze drifting lower, settling on the tent forming in his pants. "Oh, I see. Is that for me, sailor boy?" You teased, the words making his cheeks heat up, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words got stuck in his throat, his tongue feeling heavy. He let out a strangled moan, the sound spilling from his lips before he could stop it. Your gaze snapped up, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, a devious glint flashing in your eyes.

You reached out a hand, trailing your fingertips over the material of his trousers, a delighted giggle escaping you when he twitched, his hips jerking forward. "So sensitive.." You mused, the sound of your voice sending a jolt through him, his cock throbbing in his pants.

"Well, help me up then, won't you? It's only polite to invite a lady on board, isn't it?"

You batted your lashes at him, the motion exaggerated, a teasing smile playing upon your lips. He nodded, his movements clumsy, his limbs stiff. He reached down, his fingers curling around your wrist, his skin brushing against yours. He pulled you out of the water, your tail flicking in the air, then disappearing and separating into legs instead as he placed you on the deck.

Your seashell bra fell loose, your nipples pebbling, the cool night air causing them to stiffen. He swallowed thickly, his eyes raking over your form, taking in the sight of your plush curves, your soft skin, the way your breasts heaved with each breath you took. His cock twitched, his arousal becoming painfully obvious, his erection straining against the fabric of his pants. Your soft tune resumed, the melody flowing through him, the sound sending shivers down his spine. He was trapped, enthralled, hypnotized. Your voice was soothing, intoxicating, a sweet nectar, dripping from your lips. He couldn't look away, his gaze never leaving yours, the intensity of your stare making him feel weak, a rush of heat flooding his veins. Your lips curled into a grin, a smug expression flitting across your features, the sight of him falling under your spell, giving into your song, pleasing you.

The tension was palpable, a thick fog settling over him, a haze of desire clouding his mind. "Why don't you show me what's hiding in those pants, sailor boy?" You whispered, your voice low and husky, the sound causing goosebumps to break out across his skin. He fumbled with the zipper, the material sliding down his legs, his boxers tenting, his hard cock straining against the cotton. Every one of your words took over him, controlling his body, making him obey. Your voice was his master, the sound of your melody commanding him, his willpower waning, the last of his resolve slipping away.

You reached up, your hands finding his shoulders, gripping the material of his shirt, pushing him backwards. He stumbled, the force of your shove catching him off guard, his back hitting the wooden floorboards. He hissed, the impact sending a jolt of pain through him, the dull ache throbbing in his lower back. You crawled on top of him, your knees bracketing his hips, your fingers tracing patterns on his skin, the touch light and teasing. You ground your hips down, the heat of your pussy seeping through his boxers, the dampness soaking through the fabric. He moaned, the noise getting lost in the back of his throat, his jaw going slack, his eyelids fluttering. Your hips rocked, the motion smooth and fluid, a steady rhythm. You hummed, the sound vibrating through his body, his cock twitching in response. "Such a pretty human, aren't you?" You murmured, the praise making his skin prickle, his cheeks flushing, the heat rising to the surface, coloring his skin. You leaned forward, your lips ghosting over his jaw, trailing over the column of his throat. You nipped at his flesh, the contact sharp and sudden, the sensation causing his pulse to quicken. "Suguru.." You sighed, the sound soft and breathy, a hint of desperation creeping into your tone. He shuddered, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, his nails biting into your skin, the stinging pain causing you to whimper. You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down, freeing his aching cock, a breeze causing his heated skin to cool. You wrapped a hand around him, the warmth of your palm encasing his shaft, a groan escaping him, the contact making his body quiver. He was huge, his girth and length making you tremble, a delicious mix of apprehension and anticipation thrumming through you.

"Such a big boy." You cooed, a playful edge to your voice, your thumb swiping over the head of his cock, smearing the beads of precum gathered there. You pumped him, your fist gliding over his heated flesh, the rhythm slow and lazy. "A-ah, fuck.." He groaned, his hips jerking, the motion involuntary, a reflex. "F-feels good.." He slurred, his words slurring together, the combination of his moans and the way his cock throbbed in your palm making you wet, a fresh wave of slick coating your inner thighs. You pressed the pad of your thumb against his slit, the pressure making him cry out, a loud moan escaping him, his back arching. His eyes rolled back, his mouth hanging open, a string of curses and profanities falling from his lips. "Fuck, fuck, fuck.. oh god, please." He babbled, his voice cracking, a strangled whimper spilling from his lips, the sound desperate and needy. Your grip tightened, the pace of your strokes quickening, his hips thrusting upwards, his movements frantic. You watched him, his body writhing beneath yours, the sight of him coming undone making your blood boil, your lust building, a fire burning in the pit of your stomach.

Geto felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening in his abdomen, the feeling threatening to snap, his release nearing. "Fuck, I-I'm gonna cum." He gasped, the words tumbling from his lips, his eyes screwing shut. You stopped, your hand stilling, your grip loosening. He whined, the sound high-pitched and pathetic, his cock throbbing in your palm. "What are you doing?" He growled, his tone frustrated, his expression one of disbelief. You smiled, a smug, self-satisfied grin, your fangs flashing. "You're not cumming yet, baby." You purred, the word falling from your tongue, the pet name making his cock twitch. You lifted yourself off him, a whine of protest falling from his lips. You spread your legs, your knees planted on either side of him, your hands gripping the edge of the deck. He watched, his gaze roaming over your body, his eyes widening when you sank down, your dripping pussy swallowing his cock, the warmth of your walls enveloping him. "Fuck.." He cursed, the sound coming out as a hiss, his grip on your hips tightening, his fingertips digging into your skin, the stinging pain making you gasp. You braced yourself, your palms flat against his chest, using him for leverage, your body moving on its own, instinct taking over.

You rolled your hips, the movement slow and experimental, the drag of his cock against your walls sending a jolt through you, the sensation causing you to clench around him. The feeling of being filled was foreign, strange, and you felt your body struggling to adjust to his size, the stretch causing an ache to bloom deep in your core. "God, you're fucking tight.." He groaned, his breathing ragged, the strain of holding himself back, evident on his face. "Mm, I bet you've thought about this, haven't you? You've fantasized about a pretty girl like me riding your big cock, haven't you, Sugu?" You asked, the words punctuated with a roll of your hips, the tip of his cock pressing against a spot inside you, the contact sending sparks of pleasure racing through your being.

He moaned in response, his lips pressed into a thin line. His fingers gripped the wooden floorboards, the tips of his nails scraping against the surface, leaving behind deep scratches. He bucked his hips upwards, the force causing you to yelp, a loud cry of surprise escaping you. He set a brutal pace, his cock slamming into you, the motion making your body quiver. He groaned, the sound a mix of pain and pleasure, the feeling of your pussy stretching around him, almost too much to bear. Your thighs quivered, your muscles trembling. You weren't used to this, the feeling of being so full, the sensation of his cock filling you up, making you feel like you were being split in half.

He fucked into you relentlessly, groans and grunts falling from his lips, his face screwed up in a mask of concentration. He could feel his climax approaching, the tension in his abdomen building, the familiar sensation of pleasure coiling in his stomach. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum." He moaned, the sound guttural and raw, the words a warning. Your grip on his chest tightened, your fingers digging into his skin, the points of your nails pinpricking his flesh. You leaned down, your breath hot and heavy, your teeth grazing his throat, nipping at the exposed skin, before you were tossed over onto your back, the change in position causing you to gasp, your body quivering.

Geto hovered above you, his arms caging you in, his hair falling loose, the strands tickling your face. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide, a look of feral hunger crossing his features. "You.." He panted. "You're such a tease." He growled, his words laced with a hint of venom. His fingers tangled in your hair, his grip tight, the pull stinging, causing you to whimper. He pulled, the strands wrapped around his fingers, yanking your head back, exposing the column of your throat. He leaned down, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh, the bite painful and sharp, a choked cry of pleasure spilling from your lips. His hips snapped forward, his cock slamming into you, a loud moan escaping him. The sounds that came from him were guttural and primal, animalistic. The noise was unlike anything you had heard before, a mixture of growls and groans, the sound making your body quiver, a shudder wracking your frame. "Little minx." He grunted, his grip on your hair tightening, the sting causing tears to prick the corners of your eyes. "Such a dirty girl, aren't you? Soaking my cock like this." His breath was hot and heavy against your ear, the heat of his breath making you squirm, a wave of embarrassment washing over you. "You like that, don't you? Like it when I talk dirty to you?" He murmured, his voice a low, seductive drawl. Your pussy clenched around him, a whimper escaping you. He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "So fucking cute." He breathed, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

He pulled away, his gaze flickering down, taking in the sight of his cock disappearing into your dripping cunt, his length glistening, coated in your slick. His thrusts were deep and powerful, his cock hitting spots within you that you never knew existed. His pace was unrelenting, his movements frantic, his hips slamming into you, a loud slap ringing through the air, the sound echoing. "F-fuck, Suguru.." You gasped, the sound coming out as a strangled sob. "Please.." You pleaded, the word drawn out, your voice strained, the tone high and desperate. He smirked, his lips curling into a lopsided grin, a devious glint flashing in his eyes. His fingers found your clit, his touch light, the pressure making you jolt, a broken cry of pleasure escaping you. "That's it, that's a good girl." He praised, the words tumbling from his lips, the praise sending a rush of heat through your body. His fingers circled the sensitive bud, the pads of his digits massaging the swollen flesh, his movements slow and deliberate. "Sexy little thing.. all for me, aren't you? You're mine." He growled, the statement sounding more like a claim than a question. "All fucking mine."

You moaned, his words igniting a fire deep in your core, your body responding to his every touch, his every word, your desire burning, consuming you. "Yesyesyesyesyes!! A-All yours! Mmh-!" You cried out, the words tumbling from your lips, your voice a breathless, keening whine. His fingers continued their ministrations, his thumb rubbing firm, insistent circles against your clit, the contact making you arch, your back bowing off the floor. You reached out, your arms wrapping around his neck, your fingertips digging into his shoulders, your nails biting into his skin, leaving behind red welts. You clung to him, your hold on him tight, the only thing anchoring you, keeping you sane. "S'.. close..!" You whimpered, the sound barely audible, the words slurring together, the syllables blending into each other, incoherent babbling. He grunted, his fingers working furiously, the movement of his digits rough and uneven, his pace faltering. His thrusts became frantic, his movements erratic, his hips snapping forward, the motion harsh and jarring. "Gonna.. cum.. cum inside this gorgeous pussy." He panted, the words spilling from his lips, his mind hazy, the only thing he could think about was you, the way your body reacted to his, the way you fit so perfectly around him, squeezing him like a vice.

"M-mmhhmm! Pleasepleaseplease!" You begged, and his lips crashed against yours, a bruising kiss, the intensity stealing your breath away. His tongue slipped into your mouth, the intrusion hot and wet, the slick muscle sliding against yours, his taste flooding your senses, the flavor of his saliva filling your mouth. His grip on your hair tightened, his fist pulling, yanking the strands, the sharp sting causing you to yelp, a loud, wanton moan escaping you. Your eyes rolled back, the pleasure becoming overwhelming, your release imminent. Your walls fluttered, clenching around him, a strangled gasp escaping you, the feeling making him grunt, the sound rumbling through his chest. Sloppy, wet noises filled the sea air, the sounds of skin slapping against skin, mixing with the symphony of moans and groans, the melody reverberating throughout the ship. "M-'m gonna.. gonna cum!" You managed to choke out into his mouth, the words muffled by his lips. His hips jerked, a few hard, punishing thrusts, before he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing, the feeling making you whimper. His lips smashed yours harder, the kiss sloppy and uncoordinated, his mouth becoming more and more demanding as he came, the warm, sticky liquid coating your insides, his seed painting your walls. The sensation of his cum spilling inside you, coupled with the relentless pressure on your clit, was enough to send you over the edge, a powerful orgasm washing over you, your pussy clenching, squeezing his cock, a high-pitched scream tearing from your throat, the sound echoing through the night air.

He continued to fuck you through your climax, his thrusts erratic, the rhythm uneven and haphazard, his movements faltering as he rode out his orgasm, the aftershocks of pleasure rippling through his body, the sensations almost too much to bear. His thrusts slowed, his pace becoming sluggish, the momentum fading, his hips rolling, his movements lazy, his cock still buried inside you, the feeling of him stretching you out making you whine.

He finally stilled, his breath heavy, his lungs burning. He pulled away, his lips detaching from yours, a string of saliva connecting you, the strands snapping, falling against your chin. His chest heaved, his pulse racing, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. "That.. was fucking amazing.." He panted, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, his expression smug, his cockiness palpable. He chuckled, the sound low and husky, a soft, contented sigh slipping from his lips. He looked down, his gaze flickering between the two of you, his eyes focusing on the space where your bodies were joined, his softening cock still sheathed inside you. "My pretty little siren.. you really were made for this, weren't you?" He cooed, his voice taking on a playful tone, a hint of teasing creeping into his words. You blushed, the color rising to the surface, your cheeks flushing, a pretty pink spreading across your face. You giggled, the sound sweet and innocent, the sound sending a rush of heat through him. "Oh, Suguru.. you have no idea."

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schwarzkatje · 3 days

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abby x chubby!reader - a very self indulgent scenario

warning: just so you know, this contains obviously mentions of descriptions regarding body parts so if this is a trigger i advise you don't read this.

i believe abby to be one of those butches who absolutely go feral for fuller, chubbier women.

this goes hand in hand with my previous headcanon/scenario in which i explored abby's breeding kink. because once you gain weight and your breasts gets bigger, your thighs become plushier and your stomach forms that slightly hanging portion of skin adorned in your frilly and feminine dresses, abby is ashamed to admit to even herself the undeniable effect she experiences.

she doubts if what she is doing is really offensive to you because she wonders whether this can fall into the category of objectification. therefore, abby has to mentally remind herself to not be a creep and to divert her gaze from you.

her thoughts are at constant fight as one part of herself blames a morbid perversion that has to be kept on check, but just as the other part sketches the idea of it being nothing but an harmless preference in her partners.

that being said, the semblance of self control that she had built with such an effort completely shatters when you two actually interact with each other. your inclination for shirts and dresses that showed your soft chest in just the perfect way to make abby's head spin is the cherry on top of this insane obsession she has to continuously push back.

it really doesn't take much for abby to have images flashing in her head displaying her taking one of your breasts in her hand and the other under the torturous treatment of her tongue and teeth, responsible for the purple love bites scattered all over your upper body.

following suit, the scenario alone of you on your back as abby spreads your legs and brings them to yourself, bending you in half and thus highlighting the delicious rolls of your stomach causes a wet patch to form in her underwear and an undetectable twitch of her legs, squeezing to maintain the facade of a normal person who doesn't get turned on as easily as an hormonal teenager would.

one day you two are sitting together and it pains abby to not be able to handle looking at you without the need to shy away and focus on anything that isn't you. and if she manages to avoid the sight of you, your laugh and the touches you give her are daggers piercing through her shield. she is aware of how awkward she actually acts and how impossible it would have been for you to not notice at some point.

when you place your smooth hand above her own – which abby had put on her knee – her breath halts and before she can apply some rationality she turns to you, finding you are closer than her senses had detected.

your eyes are so big and innocent and full of joy and... seducing, she observes.

"abby..." despite your firm gaze, her name comes out of your mouth as a whisper capable of making her hand on the knee grip it forcefully, not minding that this is definitely giving her off.

"i've been wanting to ask you this for quite some time," you unforgivably continue "but why do i feel like we're growing apart?" the content your inquiry is that of an unspeakable sorrow and fear of losing a dear person, but the tone in which it is asked exudes a neediness for something beyond simple reassurance. you bite your lips as abby is speechless before your question and your vicinity – what in the hell is happening? is she imagining things like she always does?

her attempt at assembling a sentence proves to be a failure when all you can hear is something along the lines of "no", "of course not", without any addition of the reason behind that.

"i wouldn't be here with you right now were it the case," is the best she manages to say as she tries to laugh it off with a shy grimace feigning a confidence that is long gone the moment you are in her presence.

"but then why are you always so stiff when i hug you? you don't even come up with ideas for what to do together like we used to," your heartbeat quickens, dwelling in an uncertain place between genuine hurt and sinful arousal for abby's shyness and difficulty in approaching you.

"i- i haven't really noticed anything different, maybe it's just that i've been busy but i'm not avoiding you, i mean–" she is cut short by your voice interrupting her and your face inching closer and closer to the point where she can see the shape of your lips with the corner of her eye.

"do i make you uneasy, abby?" and why do you have to lean forward and have your breasts already tightened by your corset invade her visual field. "and to think i've been wearing this for you," now your knee is touching hers, your dress leaving your thighs exposed the more you draw near, "hoping you would take it off," what on earth— "or, even better, you would have fucked me in it..."

what kind of absurd dream is she in?

#abby x y/n #abby x fem!reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x you #abby x reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson

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anonymityisfunwriter · 1 day

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The Uptown Girl and The Brooklyn Boy

Pairing: Greaser!Bucky Barnes x Uptown Girl!Reader Summary: Everyone knows that all any Uptown Girl needs is a Greaser from Brooklyn to make her forget all about her uptown world.

A.N. - Here's a long awaited request from one of my dearest readers @oneofstarkskids, it definitely strayed a little from that initial request but i hope you enjoy! "just reread this and it's still so amazing 😭 do you take requests? if so, would you be inclined to writing a grease themed bucky au one shot?"

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

Picture this... he's from the wrong side of the tracks. He's everything every mother in your neighborhood warned you about. His hands perpetually stuffed in his pockets, a cigarette hanging from his lips, scuffed leather jacket snug around his broad shoulders.

You're none of those things, the complete opposite. Pearls strung around your neck. Perfectly done up, lips painted the perfect rouge. You're as educated as a woman could be in your day and age. You're an Uptown girl. Capital O - Old Money.

Your friends are enamored with Bucky Barnes and his friends - though you all know they'll never do anything about. Not as long as their parents had anything to say about it. And none of them are prepared to give up their high class life. It's just fun for them. A way to sow some wild oats before their parents introduce them to their future husbands.

Every chance they get, they pester you to take the long way home. To walk by that mechanic shop where Bucky and his friends hang out.

They never approach those Brooklyn boys. No, they never offer more than a coy smile and a languid, flirty twinkle of their manicured fingers. They just relish in the attention they get from walking past them.

You hate it. You hate their arrogance. You hate the smell of nicotine that hangs around him. You hate everything about them, down to those oddly charming Brooklyn accents.

"Hey," a blonde boy calls as you and your best friend walk past their mechanic shop one day. "Hey!"

"I told you this was a bad idea," you hiss at your friend, locking your arm with hers. "Now, look."

"I think they want to talk to us," she squeals under her breath.

He picks up his stride, doing a half jog until he reaches where your friend holds you hostage on the pavement. "We see you ladies passin' through every once in a while. Thought we could be friends or somethin'."

Your friend is immediately entranced with the blonde boy. Her face flushes as she beams at him, "We would love that!"

"We have enough friends," you simultaneously reply.

"She's kidding," your friend nervously chuckles, elbowing you in your ribs.

The blonde boy laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, "Well, I'm Steve. My friend there is Bucky."

As if on cue, Bucky saunters up beside Steve with an equally arrogant grin. He tips his head at each of you. "Hello, ladies."

Your friend nods at the two of them, an ear to ear grin taking up her entire face. "It's nice to meet you, Steve, Bucky."

The brunette's eyes flash over to you, speaking through that infuriating smirk, "Pleasure's ours."

"Would you ladies like to join us for a Coke?" Steve offers.

"We'd love to!" she immediately replies.

You shoot your friend an intense, incredulous glare. "I'm sorry, could you excuse us for a second?"

"Sure thing." Steve nods, ambling away from you and your friend to give you a moment of privacy.

Bucky doesn't move an inch. He stands before you with that same arrogant smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, I'm good right here."

"Fine," you scoff, speaking as bluntly as you can. Despite your polite upbringing, you you find don't care about offending him in the slightest. "We are not staying here!"

"Come on," she pleads. "What's the harm?"

"Where's the good in staying?" you shoot back.

"They're just so handsome," she fawns, looking over her shoulder to give a coy wave to the blonde boy. "And there's one for the both of us, it's fate!"

"It's not fate. They're nothing but trouble."

Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes, "You remember that I'm still right here, right?"

You shoot a glare at Bucky. "I know."

He playfully clutches his chest. "You're hurtin' my feelings, Doll."

You can feel the anger raising your blood's temperature. You don't like how quickly he's gotten underneath your skin. "I'm not your Doll."

"Princess?" he suggests with an infuriating wag of his eyebrows.

There's an embarrassingly large part of you that wants to stamp your foot at him and yell at him to stop teasing you. You keep it together just enough to contain that visceral reaction you're having to Bucky Barnes. Mostly. "I'm not your anything!"

He crosses his arms over his chest. "What did I ever do to you, Princess?"

Your eyes narrow in accusation. "I know your type."

"Charming? Irresistibly handsome?"

"Horrendously arrogant," you seethe at him. You turn back to your friend, only to find her missing, "Now, can we please go-"

"Your friend ran off the second you were focused on me."

Your eyes flicker to behind Bucky to your friend, who sure enough is enthralled in a conversation with Steve. "I was not focused on you!"

"Then why didn't you notice your friend runnin' away from you?"

"You're incorrigible."

The corner of Bucky's lips twitch up. "Didn't they teach you in that finishing school that it's not polite to insult people who are tryin' to be your friend?"

"And how would you know that I went to finishing school?"

He quirks an eyebrow at you like the answer is obvious. His eyes rake over you. From the way you hold yourself. To the dresses that oozed quiet luxury. You and Bucky were as different as night and day. "I know an uptown girl when I see one."

"And I know trouble when I see it," you shoot back. "And you Brooklyn boys are nothing but trouble."

It only gets worse from there. After that first interaction, your friend in fully infatuated with Steve Rogers. There is no tearing her away from him.

And that means, as your friend's dutiful alibi, you were dragged down to Brooklyn far more than you ever wanted.

And worst of all, it meant you spent most of your free time in the presence of Bucky Barnes.

"Please, just be nice," your friend begs as you trudge up to their garage. "I'd settle for polite even."

You scoff at her, rolling your eyes, "I'm always polite - just like I'm always nice."

"Not to Bucky, you're not."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you grumble, walking into the garage. Your friend takes off, immediately falling into the arms of Steve Rogers. Leaving you with Bucky Barnes to sit with him on the the couch that's become your most constant companion on days like today. As you walk past Bucky, you snipe, "James."

Bucky quirks a brow, smirking at you, "Oh, so now I'm James?"

"That's your name, isn't it?"

He walks away from the bike he spends most of his time working on, snatching a rag from his tool bench and wiping his hands of motor grease. Your eyes involuntarily wander to his hands, the care he puts into wiping each and every one of his fingers.

You stare for a second too long for Bucky not to notice you staring at his hands. "Remind me to thank Steve for tellin' ya that."

You roll your eyes, finally snapping out of it. "It's far better than the alternative."

He flicks the rag over, resting it on his shoulder. "So you like my name?"

You softly snort as you settle onto the couch. "I didn't say that. I said it was better than the alternative."

That smirk only gets even bigger. "What else do ya like about me?"

You roll your eyes. "Not a thing."

He settles into the couch beside you. Far too close for your liking. You can almost feel the rough denim of his jeans through your skirt. "I just love these conversations of ours."

"I don't."

His entire torso turns towards you, mischief and amusement gleaming in those blue eyes, "I mean, why would I want warmth and affection when I could have blind hatred?"

"It's not blind hatred." In spite of easily Bucky gets under your skin, you can't deny just how unfairly handsome he is. Even now, you find yourself lost in the depths of his ocean blue eyes. "It's perfectly reasonable contempt."

He gently runs a finger down your cheek. "I love when you talk smart to me."

You swat his hand away from your face. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not!" Bucky insists. "I really love it! I know it's just your way of flirting with me!"

You scoff, making no attempt to hide your offense, "I am not flirting with you!"

He tilts his head at you, that arrogant smirk once again tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Come on, just admit it, Doll. You're a little sweet on me."

"I am not your Doll!" You fly up out of your seat with an indignant huff. "And I most certainly am not sweet on you!"

"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at me when I walk around here without a shirt. Or the way you were staring at my hands just now. What exactly were you picturin' my hands doin'?"

"I was not picturing anything." Your cheeks flame as you continue to bicker back and forth with him. Sure, he was possibly the most gorgeous man you'd ever laid eyes on. And yes, he could be incredibly charming. And sometimes, you found yourself staring at him in an not so innocent way. But you hated him. He infuriated you to no end. "And I was not staring!"

The grin is practically splitting his face. "And you've definitely thought about kissin' me."

"I would rather walk from here to Jersey than kiss you."

He slides up off the couch, taking a long step towards you. "You've got a hell of a temper, you know that?"

You refuse to back down. You press an accusing finger into his chest. You can't help but notice just how firm the muscles underneath that white t-shirt are. "I just think you're real good at pushing my buttons."

"Real good?" Bucky teases. "I think Brooklyn is startin' to rub off on you."

"You know what I think?" Your chest starts to heave with the anger and frustration you feel towards Bucky Barnes. "I think that you're the last person I would ever let rub off on me. I think that you're an arrogant smart ass that likes to spend his day running his mouth."

"And I think you're a repressed priss that couldn't take what she wanted 'less it's handed to her on a silver platter."

"You wouldn't know a damn thing about what I want."

"You wanna know what I think..." He leans closer, lowering himself to your eye level. "I think that you're pissed off because you know deep down those punk ass rich boys will never make ya happy, I think you're pissed off 'cause you're bored, and I think you're pissed off 'cause you want me - even if you'll never admit it."

You don't have a response to that. There's not a single word that comes to mind. You don't think you've ever been this mad before.

And because you can't think of a single word to assuage your heaving chest and boiling blood, you do something that a polite, good girl like you would never even dreaming of doing. Before you can think, you find your hand opening and winding back.

Before you can even make contact with his cheek, he catches your hand, gripping your wrist between his warm, calloused hand. He hauls you forward until you stumble into his chest.

For a moment, you can almost hear a pin drop. The tension is so thick the only air in the room Bucky's breath dancing across your lips. "I think I'm gonna kiss you."

A soft breath stutters from your lips. "And I think I'm gonna let you."

You weren't sure what it was, but after that first kiss, you couldn't get enough of your Brooklyn boy. Even after your friend and Steve had mostly fizzled out, you couldn't get enough of him.

You waited for the moment that they all talked about, the moment when you had your fill of the boy from the wrong side of tracks, when your wild oats were sufficiently sowed, but it never came.

Every time you laid eyes on him, the seal on your fate only solidified more and more. The more you saw him, the more you wanted him. And the more sure you were that you would never be able to let him go.

You weren't a stranger to the boredom and monotony of your upper echelon life, but this was different. This wasn't boredom, he wasn't a distraction. From the moment you met Bucky, you lost all interest in the upper echelon of it all.

Suddenly, you don't care what your friends think, what your parents would think. Suddenly, you were throughly repulsed by the thought of marrying one of those repressed, trust fund babies that littered your street.

And even your friends, the same ones that lived off their fleeting attention, didn't understand.

Your friend rolls her eyes again, a sigh of irritation leaving her lips as you ready to go meet Bucky, "Are you really going back up there?"

"You're the reason I met him in the first place!"

"I know. I know," she groans, clearly disappointed that you hadn't lost interest in Bucky like she had with Steve. "And I'm happy for you! I am! I just I want to make sure..."

Her tone finally gets your full attention. You put your bag down on the table, your eyebrow pulled together, "Make sure what?"

"You're just sowing wild oats, right?"

Your entire face puckers with distaste, "What?"

"That sounded bad," she backtracks, a guilty look painting her face. She takes a deep breath, resting a condescending hand on your shoulder. "You just - you know your future isn't with Bucky, right?"

You shake her hand off your shoulder. "What does that mean?"

"He's from a different world than we are. You know that."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," you scoff. "I thought you, of all people, would understand."

"Come on, he's not exactly the sort of guy you can bring home to your parents."

You snort, turning away from her, "I have to go."

"You know I'm right!" she calls after you.

You didn't know that. In fact, the more time you spent with him, the more you saw why he was exactly the right person to bring home to your parents. He was everything you could ever bring yourself to hope for and more. Sure, he was different than you and your family, but he was a good man. He was perfect for you.

Surely, your parents could see that. Surely, they could see how good he was for you.

So that's exactly what you were going to do.

Bucky sighs against your lips, "I missed ya."

You don't know when that happened, but you've come to find a comfort in the scent of the faded leather of his jacket, in the feeling of his calloused fingertips trailing dangerously high on your upper thigh.

In the backseat of his beloved car, you curl closer into his side, resting your head on his chest, "Me too."

He kisses the top of your head, watching as you stare off into the distance, "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"

You pull back slightly, lifting your head off his chest. With a furrowed brow, you ask him, "How serious are you about me?"

"Dead serious," he replies in an instant.

You lightly swat his chest. "Quit playing."

"'M not playin'," he swears. He does an 'x' over his heart, "Cross my heart."

His answer gives you all the reassurance you need. All there was to do was ask him. Still, there was a hesitancy. You worry that this will just make him realize that you two might just be insurmountably, irreconcilably different. You decide that the best way to ask is just ask. "Then what would you say about meeting my parents?"

"I'd love to," Bucky coolly answers.

You can't help the way your face lights up with hope. "Really?"

"Of course. Anything for my girl."

You really like the way that sounds. His girl. You could get used to being his girl.

The look on your face is worth it all to Bucky. He only hopes you don't see the anxiety in his expression.

He wasn't oblivious to how different your worlds were. He knew there was a good chance that this wouldn't last forever. It didn't really matter what he wanted or how much he was willing to fight for you, he knew the reality of it all.

He couldn't offer you half of what someone in your neighborhood could. Your worlds couldn't be more different.

And he's never been more aware of it than on the eve of meeting your parents.

Steve smirks at Bucky as he fiddles with his tie again. "You're really seein' this through, aren't you?"

Bucky smacks Steve upside his head. "Don't be a jerk."

"I'm just sayin'," Steve shrugs, settled into the couch of Bucky's family home. "I'm happy for ya, Buck. You really like this girl."

"I wouldn't be dressed like this for anyone else. Are you sure this is right?" Bucky tugs at his tie again. Maybe it was that the suit hadn't seen the light of day in a few years and was a little more snug than he remembered. Or maybe it was just that he'd only dressed like this for funerals and weddings, but everything about his getup today made him feel like a fraud. He was sure if your parents saw him like this, they'd see right through him. "I feel like I'm goin' to a school dance."

"Where does she live again?"

Bucky tries his best to hide his wince. He'd never been to your side of town, but he'd heard stories. Sure, most of them were made up, but there had to be some truth buried in the tall tales. "Upper West Side."

Steve pats his shoulder. "Stick with the tie, Buck."

He listens to Steve's advice and sticks with the tie. As he walks through your neighborhood, seeing houses bigger than entire apartment buildings on his block that line your street, he's pretty confident in trusting Steve up until the moment he sees you.

Your smile stutters as you see him waiting outside the gate of your home. It was just his luck that your house was one of the biggest on the block. Your eyes trail up and down Bucky's uncharacteristic attire. "What are you wearing?"

His heart sinks. He looks down, patting his blazer and tie. "Am I - Am I not this thing right? I knew it - I told Steve -"

"No, no," you quickly interject. "You look great! I've just never seen you... like this."

"What's wrong with this?" Bucky hedges.

Your soft smile up at him is the only thing soothing his knotted stomach. "Nothing, I - I just wanted them to meet you, to meet the Bucky that I know and - and I want them to know you. Not whoever this is."

"I - I didn't think they would like that Bucky very much," Bucky confesses.

It doesn't escape you that he's nervous, especially as he fiddles with this tie over and over again. You're well aware of how intimidating this all is. Even as someone who grew up in this social circle, in the thick of the upper echelon, you still found yourself scared of doing and saying the wrong thing.

You knew he was only trying to fit in as best as he could. Still, you missed the smell of his leather jacket, the waft of motor oil that often clung to his skin. "Well, I like you the way you are. Greaser and all."

"Thanks." It's comforting to him. Still, as his eyes rove over your house, he can't help but be glad he listened to both Steve and his mother. He holds out the bouquet of flowers in his hand. "My Ma told me to bring these for your Ma."

An endeared smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. He was really trying to win over your parents. He really was serious about this - about you. "My mother will love this."

"Your mother," Bucky corrects himself, doing his best to tame his Brooklyn twang.

"Just be yourself," you assure him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as you make your way up the long driveway. "No one else, just you."

"Any other tips?"

"If you run out of things to talk about ask my father about his cars. He collects them."

It takes everything in Bucky not to gape like a fish out of water. "He collects... cars?"

You ignore his question, continuing to fill Bucky in on your parents, "And my mother, well, she's a terrible gossip. If you can get her talking about her friends, you've won her over."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"Just relax. They'll love you."

As he walks into your home, greeted by a man wearing a nicer suit than he is who offered to take his coat from him, Bucky's not quite sure he believes you.

Your heels click against the sleek marble flooring as you guide him through your home. He holds on tight to your hand, half afraid that you'll let go and he'll get lost in the labyrinth of pristine beige hallways.

Your father is the first to greet Bucky in your living room. He extends a hand out to Bucky. "You must be the boy we've heard so much about."

"It's nice to meet you both," Bucky returns the firm handshake before turning to your mother with the warmest smile he can muster through his anxiety. "You have a lovely home, ma'am. I brought these for you."

She takes the bouquet from Bucky's hand. "Oh, that's very kind of you..."

"Oh, it's Bucky," he supplies.

"Bucky?" your mother dubiously repeats. "How unique..."

"It's James, actually," Bucky corrects himself, already feeling himself getting flustered. "James Buchanan Barnes. 's where Bucky comes from."

Your mother nods, offering a tight smile, "How lovely."

As your mother hands off the flowers to one of the wait staff, he can't help but already feel like he's already made that dreaded bad first impression.

As though you can see the despair forming in the pit of his stomach and dampening the glimmer in his blue eyes, you give his hand a squeeze along with a smile.

"Dinner is ready," your mother announces. "Why don't we make our way to the dining room?"

"That sounds wonderful," you beam, leading Bucky into the next room. You stutter to a stop just before the dining table. You look at the table as you take your seat, your eyebrows furrowed at something that Bucky hasn't quite caught on to. "Mother? I thought we agreed on a more simple menu tonight."

As you speak you reach under the table, giving Bucky's hand an apologetic squeeze. Just from your inflection, Bucky can tell what awaits him will not be pleasant.

"Nonsense." She dismissively waves you off. "We have a guest."

"We talked about this," you admonish. "You promised."

"Bucky?" your mother calls. "Do you mind having a more formal dinner? I know it might be a tad unusual for you."

"Mother," you sharply warn.

"Um, no, ma'am," Bucky awkwardly lilts. "That sounds lovely."

A self satisfied smirk settles on your mother's face. "See? It's fine."

"Why are there so many forks?" Bucky whispers under his breath.

"Just work your way in," you reply as quietly as you can.

"Do you change forks every bite or somethin'?" It's half an attempt at a joke, half an honest question.

"In between courses."

"Courses?"

Before you can answer Bucky's question, your mother is already beginning her interrogation. "So, James, tell us about yourself."

"There's not much to tell," Bucky replies. "I was born and raised down in Brooklyn."

Your father snorts, "Really?"

You're not quite sure if Bucky catches the sarcastic lilt to your father's question or if he really does just try to rise above it. It's hard to tell with how he rolls with the punches. "Yes, sir."

"Any siblings?" your mother asks.

"I'm the oldest of four, ma'am."

"Any plans for your life?" your father finally pipes in.

"Dad," you hiss.

Your father shrugs, "It's an honest question."

Once again, it rolls off of Bucky's back. "Well, I'm workin' at a garage right now. Me and my friend, Steve, we're hopin' to buy it out. We've just about saved enough between the two of us to buy it from the ol' man when he's ready to retire."

"A man with a plan. I like that."

"Thank you, sir." You're sure that you hear Bucky's sigh of relief as he finds his footing. You can practically see his signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your daughter tells me that you have an impressive collection yourself."

You weren't entirely sure how he pulled it off, but by the end of the night, Bucky is talking to your parents like they're old friends.

You're not even sure why you're that surprised, you hated him up until the moment you succumbed to his charm.

As the evening comes to a close, he stands in the doorway, shaking your father's hand again, offering your mother that charming grin once more, "Thank you for dinner. Everything was delicious."

"You're welcome back anytime, James."

"Thank you." You're almost shocked at your mother's open invitation. He presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. "I'll see ya later."

The three of you stand in the foyer of your house as Bucky walks down the steps and down the driveway with his hands shoved in his pockets. You look up to your father, face filled with hope. "So?"

"He's a nice boy."

You're not sure your grin can get any bigger. "I really like him."

"You'll grow out of it."

Your heart sinks the moment the words leave your father's mouth. "What?"

"It can't come soon enough," your mother groans. "You're far too good for him."

"You don't know him."

"We know his type, dear," your mother condescendingly sighs. "And good girls like you don't belong with boys like that, but I do think it was sweet of you to invite your little infatuation to dinner."

You feel like all the air has been knocked out of you. For a moment tonight, you really thought they were coming around. You truly thought it would all work out for the best. "Infatuation?"

"That's what this is, right?" your father asks, concern painting his expression when he sees the furiously determined look in your face. "You're just... rebelling?"

You look up at your father, shaking your head. "No, no, I'm not just rebelling."

You fought with them the whole night before you went to find him the very next day. They threatened you with everything they could think of. When that didn't work, they bribed you with everything they could think of. You didn't care for any of it.

The moment you see him, you know he knows. You're not sure if he realized it the moment he walked out of your door or if it took him a quick recollection of the night to realize it, but he knows all the same. It looks like he hasn't slept a wink. A deep frown replaces his usual grin. He looks entirely and totally distraught.

He notices you the moment you walk up to his garage just like you did all those times before.

This time, it's obvious is different. There aren't barbed words or verbal jabs. You don't bound into his arms. Even Steve offers you a sad twitch of his lips.

Bucky watches you for a long moment before you break the silence. He reaches into his pocket, lighting a cigarette in between his fingers. "Hi."

"They hated me, right?" He doesn't waste words. Your lips press together in a tight line. He takes a large drag from his cigarette. You can't remember the last time you saw him smoking. He shakes his head, hissing under his breath, "Damn it..."

"Bucky?"

He takes another large pull from his cigarette. Even from feet away, you can smell the nicotine in the air. "Just do it. I understand."

"What?"

"That's why you're here, right? Just get it over with."

Your eyebrows furrow. "I don't understand."

"I'm not an idiot, alright?" he spits. "I know I didn't pass their little test, so just call it already."

"Is that really what you thought last night was?"

"What else would you call last night? 'Cause I think I was the butt of the joke from beginnin' to end."

"You were not the butt of the joke, Bucky."

"Oh, please, I fell face first into their punchline."

You suck in a shaky breath, both your own hurt and the cloud of smoke around Bucky burning at your throat, "Is that what you think of me? That I was tryin' to set you up?"

"Yes! No- No! I just - I - Don't you see it?"

"See what?" you demand.

"That I'm not good enough for you!" he desperately exclaims, tossing his cigarette on the pavement. "And everyone else already knows it! Last night proved that!"

"My parents are assholes, Bucky. I came here to apologize for them, to tell you that I don't care what they think."

His voice quiets, the anger melts off his words until all that's left is a heartbreaking sincerity, "You should. You deserve so much more than what I can give you."

"They don't know you, but I do." You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. "And I think you've got everything I want. I'm yours, Bucky. All yours."

"Do you mean that?"

"Every word."

"What did I do to deserve you? My perfect girl." He kisses the back of the hand he hods, using it to tug you closer to him. He quirks a brow at you when you pull away from him. "What?"

You wrinkle your nose at him. "I hate the smell of smoke."

"I'll quit," he immediately replies.

"You'll quit smoking? Just like that?"

"That surprise you?"

"It's just - Maybe you Brooklyn boys aren't as tough as you think you are," you tease.

He smirks. "Maybe we're not. Maybe I'm not - but I think it's because I'm in love with an Uptown girl."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky

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muwapsturniolo · 10 hours

Text

✯𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞✯

IN WHICH…. Chris is obsessed with Y/n's lips and her lipgloss combo

WARNINGS: nothing really. kissing, mentions of kids. no smut but sexual activities are hinted at and talked about.

shoutout to my pookie @bratzforchris for giving me this idea!!!

Chris was obsessed.

He couldn’t help it, watching his baby momma glide the lip pencil in a dark brown shade around her lips, a nude lipstick following before her signature lipgloss that just so happened to be cherry flavored.

It was his favorite lip combo on her. The way it made her lips pop, the way it shined when caught in the light, and most of all, how it tasted when he went to kiss her.

“Why you keep looking at me like that?” Chris snaps out of his love daze and blinks a few times before meeting her eyes. “Huh? Look at you like what?”

“You staring at me mad hard with those blue-ass eyes. It can be cute but kind of scary.” She jokes as she sets her lipgloss back in her purse.

The family of three had just finished eating out as a celebration for their child winning her spelling bee. Y/n’s lip combo had gotten messed up due to her eating, hence her fixing it in the car.

“Damn, these blue-ass eyes can’t admire their fine-ass baby momma?” Y/n rolls her eyes before flipping the mirror up and fastening her seatbelt.

“Boy bye. Let’s go, Solana is falling asleep and she still needs to take a bath.”

“Let me get a kiss.”

“Boy, I just put my lipgloss on! No!”

“And? I don’t care, give me a kiss.”

She huffs but leans over the compartment to give him a kiss. What she planned on being a short and simple show of affection, turned into something a bit steamier. She quickly pulls away and points to the half-asleep child in the back seat.

“Your daughter is right there Christopher. Take us home.” He huffs and licks his lips, the artificial cherry flavor coating his taste buds. “Fucking cockbloc-OW!” he holds his shoulder in pain, glaring at the girl in the passenger seat.

“Don’t call my child a fucking cockblock. Now stop being a little boy and drive!”

They drive home and quickly get Lana in bed, rinsing her off in the shower before dressing her in pajamas.

Y/n walks into the bedroom and sees Chris sitting on the edge of the bed, already clad in sweatpants and his gold chain dangling on his naked chest. She walks past him to get to the closet but is quickly snatched onto his lap. Her hands fly to his shoulders to steady herself as his hands grope her ass.

“Lana’s asleep?”

His eyes are focused on her lips, not even bothering to look her in the eye.

“Yes Chris, our child is asleep.”

He smiles and smacks her ass, the sound echoing in the room.

“Good.”

His lips are instantly planted on hers, moaning as the cherry flavor he loves and worships so dearly invades his mouth.

“Fuck I love this lip gloss,” he mumbles through the kiss, flipping them over so she’s under him. “I’m running out.” She breathes heavily, out of breath from the intense makeout session.

“Then I gotta buy you more.”

The two make out for what seems like centuries before he goes to snake his hands down her shorts. She stops him and flips them over, straddling his waist.

“You gonna ride me tonight?” he has a cheeky smile on his face before it's quickly wiped away.

“No.” Chris furrows his brows in confusion making Y/n snicker. “So what are we doing then? Wait where are you going?” Y/n climbs off of Chris and begins walking to their bathroom.

“To the bathroom, I need to shower.” She states as if it was obvious.

Chris sits up, using his arms to support his weight, “are we going to have sex in the shower?”

Y/n lets out a laugh before stripping out of her clothes in front of Chris. His eyes hungrily take her in, his dick rising and forming a tent in his sweatpants.

“We aren’t doing anything besides sleeping tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m on my period.” Without another word, she closes the bathroom door leaving Chris irritated and tremendously horny.

“This is bullshit,” he mumbles as he flops down on the bed, his arm covering his eyes.

He waits a few minutes before speaking loudly so Y/n can hear him.

“Your mouth isn’t bleeding!”

“Shut the fuck up before I put you on timeout for two weeks.”

Chris groans before grabbing his phone and going to his photo gallery.

“Looks like it’s me and you.” He pulls up an old video of him and Y/n from a few months ago, already pulling down his sweats.

something short while i attempt to work on other things!!!

TAGLIST 🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore @stasiesturn @loljackwasfat @nicksmainbitch @ninacutebee16 @mayhem-72 @sturniolosmind @breeloveschris @mattslolita @mattsivy @guccifrog @hysteria-things @mrssturnioloo @koris_009 @patscorner @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @nickuniversity @luverboychris @thenickgirl @riasturns @imwetforyourmom @junnniiieee07 @realuvrrr @milasturniolo @fwskullz @hearts4tatemcrae @mattandchrismakemewett @chrissystur @canthelpit0 @strnilo @demistyles @junovrsmp4 @heartsforchrisandmatt @maryx2xx @vecnasnose0 @freshsturns @xxsturnxx @pettydollie @crimsoncorpse @sturnssmuts @sturniolovoid @m0r94n @freshsturns @adoreindie @sturnstvr

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inkdrinkerworld · 2 days

Note

hello!! i saw you were asking for more spencer x sunshine!reader requests and here i am!!

do you think you could do something where reader has chronic pain in her hips and walks with a limp most of the time, but once it gets super super cold it starts to hurt more so she has to use a cane..? it’s getting colder where i live so i’ve slowly had to start using my cane, but i always get embarrassed/insecure about using it in public so some days i go without and then immediately regret it!! haha

of course you don’t have to write this is you don’t want to!! i’m sure i have tons of other ideas up in my noggin haha. love you and take great care of yourself!! xxx

I hope you like this, I googled some aids for the pain so hopefully this is good and if there’s anything that’s wrong please please let me know

The groundhog lied, it’s snowing when it’s supposed to be sunny.

You should’ve known you would’ve been in pain all day when the night before when your hip started locking more and more.

Still, you dress for the weather and put on a pair of thermal tights under your navy dress suit. You can’t be bothered with pants.

You stare at your cane as you reach your front door, biting your lip as you deliberate.

On one hand, you could take it and ease the pain off your hip, or you could leave it and save the embarrassment you feel for needing it so young.

In a split second you make your decision, limping out the door without it.

You regret your decision to also wear kitten heels when you hobble into the bullpen, Spencer’s eyes immediately catching the uneven drift in your walk. He notices your easy outfit too, a pleated blue skirt with a breathable blue top to match, no blazer today.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, crossing his desk and making his way over to you but you wave him off.

Spencer ignores that completely and reaches you in seconds, eyes assessing what you refuse to say.

“Spencer I’m fine, I just slept wrong.” It’s obvious he doesn’t believe you when he cocks an eyebrow. Spencer’s already noticed a slight lean to your walk, your very obvious limp and the way that your smile seems to border grimace.

His hands reach for hips as he closes the little gap between you.

“Oh aren’t you forward,” you smile through your words but Spencer knows there’s something different to your tone.

“Would you shush? It’s more swollen than it should be if you slept wrong.”

His brown eyes pin you and make it hard to lie to him as you stare him down. You want to ask how he knows it’s your hip, but he’s got a big, genius brain, it really was silly to think you could hide it from him.

“Spence, it’s okay.” You say, twisting out of his hands and hissing when you do so, your hip cracking at the motion. Tears prick your eyes.

“You’re a terrible liar, come sit down.” He leads you to his chair, hands gentle as they touch your lower back and hip. “What’s going on with your hip, darling?”

You blame the way you just instantly open up about what you term your worst feature, to the fact that he’s dropped a pet name like that so casually.

“I suffer with my hip, flare ups mostly during winter and it’s chronic. I have a cane but it’s embarrassing to need one so young so I don’t use it and it hurts more but at least I have my independence.”

Spencer shakes his head, touching your cheek. “I know that’s how you feel, but if it’s cracking like this you at least need a balm if you don’t want the cane. Or I could get you compression pants for it.”

You scrunch your nose at the emotion suddenly building in your throat, “I do have a balm but the smell is too strong. Doesn’t go with my perfume.”

Spencer laughs, fully shaking his head at you. He thinks for someone so happy all the time, you shouldn’t worry half as much as you do. Certainly not about if your medicated balm will go with your perfume.

“Come with me,” he says, taking your bag from you and setting it on his shoulder.

“Where are we going? Mid morning pick me up? Rendezvous in the bathroom stall?” Your eyebrows dance and Spencer shakes his head, maneuvering his body so you’re leaning on him more than walking on your own.

“No, we’re going to the bathroom so you can apply more balm and then I’m going to your place to get your cane.”

You stop walking, heels cutting off with an abruptness, that if Spencer hadn’t been anticipating it you would’ve fallen from his grip.

“No Spence, it’s fine. I’m used to it.” He starts walking again, bringing you with him to the bathroom and sitting you on the sink’s edge.

“I know you are,” he rifles through your bag, grinning when he finds the tube of medicated balm. “But humor me for a moment and say it’s a little worse than usual, so you need it?”

You huff, “Can’t I just use the compression stuff?”

Spencer looks up, surprise lighting his eyes but a knowing, almost smug smile plays on his lips.

“Yeah?” He does a wicked evil thing by stroking the tops of your thighs and tilting his head just a little so some of his curls fall in his face.

“Spencer,” you push at his chest, grumbling when he laughs. He holds your palm to his chest, “I can do this part myself.”

“Promise you’ll actually apply the rub? I need to go out to get the compression pants.”

You shake your head, “I’ll get one after work Spence, the balm is enough.”

He doesn’t listen to you, “Apply the balm, I’ll be twenty minutes.”

You’re one hundred percent sure he takes Anderson with him to drive the SUV and is back in twenty minutes with two different pairs of compression pants, pain relievers and muscle relaxants.

#spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x sunshine!reader

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anonymous-yandere-writer · 2 days

Note

hello !! please delete / ignore if this validates your rules !! ^ __ ^

Platonic Yandere Malleus & child [name] . .

and [name] may or may not be a brat . . and probably failing school ( it’s college so no wonder !!)

preferably he / him prns but you can do whatever :] thank you !! there’s just not enough platonic yanderes in twstfandom . .

Of course! I'd be more than happy to this. The platonic yandere is a trope thats very unexplored, so I'd love to do one! Thanks for the Ask!

Anon-Yan💌.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Platonic Yandere Malleus

So since there were no specifics on who reader might be [Just that reader is Malleus's Child] let's just say that reader is Malleus's adopted child, but is still Fae. Just not a draconic fae.

Malleus as Yandere father is super-overprotective. The phrase "Helicopter Parent" Doesn't even begin to describe this man.

Maybe it was due all of the neglect he suffered through as a child, but this man absolutely refuse to give you any sort of privacy or space. Even as a teenager.

He just hates the idea of you feeling lonely so he spends practically every second he can with you, even at you're own expense.

Malleus is also petrified of losing you, Lillia is closing in on his own death, Silver never had very long compared to Malleus, and Sebek is half human, meaning he will never live as long as Malleus.

You're the only other family he has aside from his grandmother, he's not letting you go easily.

Malleus is one of those people who can't help but spoil their children, he'd hate to start yelling at his precious baby.

Maybe all that spoiling is how you got the way you are. Entitled and bratty.

When you first started going to school Malleus would get complaints from teachers on just how terrible you would be to the other kids.

But he refused to believe his precious baby was so awful. Especially when you started [fake] crying, saying that the teachers and other students here were mean to you.

"How dare you accuse my child of such terrible acts! My child would never do such a thing. They are nothing but a sweetheart. If I ever hear such a blatant lie fall from your lips ever again, the consequences will result in your immediate execution. Understand?"

Those poor teachers man.

Malleus babies you so much it isn't until Lillia, Silver, Sebek, and his grandmother hold an intervention that he'll start being a little hard on you.

But even then, if you start crying he'll back down.

It's ironic that somebody so strong breaks so easily at the slightest little swell of your tear-ducts.

Life goes on like this for a long time, with you causing trouble and Malleus brushing it off like it's nothing.

It isn't until you're a teenager and enrolled in Night Raven College that you finally cross the line.

"Mr. Draconia, I don't what it is but your child seems hellbent on becoming one of the worst students this school has ever seen!", Crowley exclaims, "Just last week they destroyed on of Diasomnia's numerous gargoyles! Even with my genius expertise, I can't keep them under control."

You keep your arms crossed and blow a peice of hair out of your face. 'That crow is still yapping.' You think to yourself, annoyed about having to listen to some lousy headmaster blab on and on about how you were sooooo terrible. As if the guy really thought that the Malleus Draconia would ever listen to his bullshit.

Dad always took your side, any second now that crow would finally shut his mouth and your dad would finally get you out of this dump.

Crowley jumps in his seat when a strike of thunder hits outside. 'There it is.' Dad always hated it when people accused you. The frown on your face lightens to a devious smirk.

"Ehem.", Crowley tries to regain his composure, "I believe if they're behavior doesn't change I'll have to expel them."

Thats when Malleus finally snaps, but he doesn't make it clear to you, or Crowley. But God is he pissed. He's spent all this time babying and treating you like the little royal he knows you should be, but look at you! Nothing but a troublemaker with no respect for anyone or anything around you. Has he really failed as father this badly?

You know what? It doesn't matter anymore, cause guess what? He's no longer going to baby you, you're almost an adult for sevens sake! And you've got the intelligence of two year old.

"That's fine, Headmaster Crowley." He says, trying to keep his demeanor calm despite the now raging storm outside. "I think it's best that from now on I start home-schooling them anyways."

His curls his fists into his lap.

"Thank you for your time, we'll be getting Their things now and removing them from campus. Have a good day Crowley." And with that he grabs you by the wrist and yanks you out of the room.

He didn't even let you grab your things, he just pulled you to the mirror and sent both of you back to Briar Valley. Once there, he continues pulling you around by your arm until he gets to one of old dungeon cells put high up in a tower. There he finally lets you go by throwing you in. When you try to ask why he's doing this he shushes you with his glare. Pointed and sharp.

He may be father, but he's not going to play nice.

He takes a deep breathe, a crackle of green thunder booms from outside the old brick walls of the castle, before he speaks up.

"You disappoint me. I have given you nothing but love and generosity in the hopes that you would turn out as a kind, loving, and respectful person."

You're at a loss for words as you try to say something, anything, but he glares at you once more and shushes you.

"You are a member of the Draconia Family. There are rules and guidelines we must follow, we can not go around acting like brats and destroying anything we like. And until you adhere to those simple rules, you will no longer be treated as a royal.", His tone was sharper than the deadliest knife. And his words made you more scared of your father than you'd ever been before.

"Your time will be spent either studying or cleaning. In your down time you will be making your food and no servant will be tending to you. Do you understand?" You could only nod dumbly as actual tears welled in your eyes. The sight made him grimace.

"..I love you my dear, but you are a Draconia. And you need to start acting like it." He said, almost as though he was trying to comfort you. Before turning on his heel and walking down the winding steps out of the tower.

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haikyu-mp4 · 3 days

Text

Monster

word count; 979 – gn!reader who is shorter than Tendo

I had the idea to write two different reactions depending on the reader being either more extroverted or more introverted, feel free to read both or either option:)

It was raining outside, which made your little stroll to the vending machine all the more pleasurable. The sound of the little raindrops falling on the buildings, lawn and concrete was quite therapeutic. All because you were under a roof, of course, you were not as excited to cross the lawn in a minute to meet your boyfriend after his volleyball practice in this weather. Typical of you to never bring an umbrella.

You put in some coins, clicked the button and crouched down to pick up your strawberry milk before straightening up again and turning back around. Annoyingly enough, you were met with a startling wall. Two guys were standing a bit too close to just be in line for the machine, and the looks in their eyes were mischievous in a bad way. It’s the kind of eyes people say Tendo has even though all you ever see in them is endearment.

“You’re the one dating that monster, aren’t you?” one of the guys said while the other one huffed as if it was funny.

Tough extroverted reader

“Can I help you?” you asked back with a confused expression, not seeing any reason why you’d discuss your dating life with these guys. You opened the milk and took a sip before tilting your head to await their answer.

“We should be asking you that. Someone so pretty stuck with such a freak. What’s he threatening you with?” The guy kept talking, truly stepping on thin ice. You scrunched your nose and took another sip, not exactly comfortable with the situation but not wanting to leave without defending your boyfriend either.

“You jealous or something? I’ll let you know I’m perfectly happy with my dating life.” You take a step closer to the guy who apparently did all the barking. “And his name is Tendo Satori,” you said in a clear voice as if trying to burn the name into their brains. If they were going to call him a monster, it better be because of how he rules the volleyball court. You had half a mind to tell them that as well, but the moment was interrupted.

Their eyes were slowly cast in a shadow before they could respond. If only you could see the reflection in their eyes of your boyfriend’s smirk behind you. “That was pretty hot.” Tendo finally says after letting you answer them yourself. It startled you a little, before relaxing into his touch stroking down your arm. You leaned your shoulders back on his chest, a cocky smile on your face from watching the other guys lose their confidence. Tendo leaned down and obnoxiously kissed your cheek to make a point before lifting a hand towards the boys and shooing them away. “You heard them.”

“Whatever, weirdos.” They put on some tough faces that weren’t very believable, and you turned around to Satori while they scurried away. Being weirdos together definitely wasn’t that bad.

“Satorii,” you purred, happy to see him.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that. Again.” He said, obviously trying to be aloof about it, but you could see through it.

“I’m sorry too,” you said with a soft smile, knowing he knew what you meant, before grabbing his hand and tip-toeing to peck his cheek. “I thought I was meeting you?”

“I know you didn’t bring an umbrella,” he answered, finally showing a genuine smile. “My dorm? I’ll make you something sweet.”

“Yes, my prince.”

Soft introverted reader

You felt your pulse quicken with angst, eyes not meeting theirs but rather desperately hoping someone you know would pass by. “Can I help you?” you asked carefully, wishing that if they had to talk about your boyfriend behind his back, they would do it behind yours too. A blind person could see you were not the confronting type.

“We should be asking you! What kind of freak are you to be dating that?” he said, a cruel comment that didn’t make the situation any more comfortable.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you mumbled, avoidant as ever. Why would they care about your dating life anyway?

“Won’t you at least look at us with those pretty eyes, monster-lover?” the other one said, taking an unwelcomed step closer.

“He's not a monster,” you said, making an attempt at defending your boyfriend but still feeling tears brim your eyes from the confrontation.

Finally, you saw your salvation, like a stream of light finally peering through the clouds and hitting your face. The two boys were about to turn around when they saw your eyes lock on something between them, but were stopped as Tendo grabbed each of their shoulders and pulled them back, giving you space to breathe. “But I can be... if you ever make them cry,” he said in a goofy albeit frightening voice. His eyes crept from one boy to the other as if making sure the threat sank in before passing them and taking your hand to lead you away. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles while you walked before letting your hand go so he could open his umbrella and hold it above you. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” he said softly, trying to seem like he didn’t care about himself, just that you had to hear it.

“It’s okay. They were being shitheads anyways,” you huffed, anger seeping in now that you didn’t have to face them anymore.

“Ooh, language, baby.” Tendo laughed and looked down at you with adoration flowering in his eyes.

“Shut up,” you giggled, pushing your shoulder into his before tucking your arm around his closest arm so you could walk together even if he held the umbrella. Safe to say that anger dissipated quickly.

“I’ll treat you to some A-class cuddles for standing up for me like that. My dorm?”

“Yes, my love.”

masterlist

#haikyu x reader #haikyu #haikyuu #hq x reader #fanfiction #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyu fluff #tendou x you #tendo x reader #tendou x reader #tendo satori #haikyuu tendou #tendou satori

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queenshelby · 6 hours

Text

Sweet Possession (Part 6)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

Quickly, you closed the lockbox and shoved it back into its hiding place, hoping against hope that Thomas wouldn't notice anything amiss. You stood up, smoothing out your dress and taking a deep breath before making your way up the stairs to meet your husband.

But as you climbed the stairs, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of what you had just discovered. How long had Thomas been watching you? How long had he been planning this?

Was it all just a twisted game to him, luring you into his web of lies and deceit? These questions swirled around in your head, making you feel dizzy and disoriented.

"What are you doing down here, Love?" Tommy asked as you walked towards him as he waited for you half-way up the stairs on which you were now standing. His voice was gentle, but his eyes held a questioning look, almost as if he knew something was off. You quickly pushed the thoughts to the back of your mind, forcing a smile on your face.

"I was just feeling a bit lonely and thought I'd come down and get a bottle of wine from the cellar," you lied, praying that Thomas wouldn't be able to tell. "Is that alright?"

Tommy regarded you for a moment before nodding slowly. "Of course, it is," your husband told you, his voice still gentle.

There was a bead of sweat on your forehead, and you couldn't help but feel like Tommy knew exactly what you had found in the cellar. But how could he? It wasn't possible. You had only discovered it just now, and you had been careful not to leave any evidence behind.

Still, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. Your heart was racing, and you felt like you couldn't breathe.

You tried to act normal, but every second that passed made it harder and harder to keep up the charade.

When you walked back upstairs with your husband and a bottle of wine in your hand, you could barely focus on the conversation.

Every time Thomas looked at you with his intense blue eyes, your heartbeat quickened, and your mind racing with questions that you couldn't answer.

You tried to shake off the feeling of unease, but it lingered like a dark cloud over your head and that could remained there all night, even when you were intimate with the man you married.

***

The following day, while your husband was out again for business, you went to the cellar again and discovered that there was a methodical process to the way that Thomas had rid himself of any obstacle that stood in his way.

His planning was impeccable, and his reach extended far beyond what you could have imagined.

The information in the lockbox revealed that there was no corner of your past that Thomas had not infiltrated.

He had targeted each and every one of your previous relationships, ensuring that they would end abruptly and tragically. The police reports indicated that the causes of death ranged from car accidents to suicide, but you couldn't help but suspect that he had a hand in each of them.

It was a terrifying realization, and one that made you question everything about your husband and your marriage. It was true that Thomas had always been protective of you, but you had never suspected that he would go to such extremes to keep you by his side.

In addition, you quickly learned that you had also been somewhat naive when it came to thinking that your husband was an honest and reputable businessman. As you delved deeper into the information contained in the lockbox, you realized that Thomas was not only a gangster, but also a ruthless criminal with a violent streak. You had been aware of his involvement with organized crime, but you had no idea of the extent to which it permeated every aspect of his life.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of disgust and betrayal as you sifted through the documents revealing Thomas's true nature. You had trusted him, loved him, and devoted yourself to him, but he had manipulated you from the very beginning.

You thought back to the early days of your relationship, when Thomas had swept you off your feet with his charm and charisma. You had been so blinded by love that you had overlooked the warning signs of his controlling behavior.

But now, the truth was staring you in the face and you knew that you had leave him without a second thought.

You could no longer bear the thought of his hands on you , his lips on yours. Every kiss, every touch was tainted by the knowledge of his twisted games.

You couldn't help but wonder what would become of you if you left. Would Thomas let you go peacefully, or would he come after you with a vengeance? You didn't know the answer, but you knew that you had to take the risk.

You made up your mind and gathered your belongings. As you prepared to leave, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

You felt light, free, and most importantly, alive. The thought of the life you had been living up until nowmade your skin crawl. You never realized that the man who you thought was your soulmate, the man you vowed to spend the rest of your life with, could be someone so dangerous and manipulative.

You walked out of the mansion, taking in a deep breath as you walked towards one of the Bentleys and opened the boot.

You placed your belongings inside, before slamming it shut and taking a step back. There was no turning back now, you needed to get away from him and fast.

You slid into the driver's seat, turning on the ignition and putting the car into reverse. As you drove out of the gates of the mansion, your heart raced.

Each new mile that separated you from Thomas felt like a victory, yet it was also tinged with fear. But the thought of never having to feel his icy grip on your heart again made you determined.

You had always known deep down that something was off about Thomas, but your heart had blinded you to the truth. Now, you knew without a shadow of doubt that he was dangerous, and there was only one way to protect yourself - by getting as far away from him as possible.

You had some money on you, but not much. It was barely enough to get you on to a train to London and from there, you'd have to figure something else out. You glanced at the mansion one more time before driving away, your heart racing with fear and anticipation.

As you drove, you couldn't help but wonder about Thomas and whether he would try to find you .

You told yourself that you were being paranoid, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of impending danger that had settled in the pit of your stomach.

Twenty minutes later, you arrived at Birmingham Train Station . You parked your car in the farthest corner of the lot, hoping that it wouldn't be spotted by anyone who might be looking for you.

You glanced around nervously, checking to see if you were being followed. Seeing no one, you made your way into the train station.

The station was bustling with activity, but you couldn't help but feel like every pair of eyes were on you. You purchased a ticket to London and made your way to the platform, trying to blend in with the other passengers.

Your heart raced as the train pulled up, and you boarded, taking a seat in a relatively empty carriage. You gazed out of the window, watching the city of Birmingham disappear into the distance as the train sped through the countryside.

The landscape was a comforting distraction from the turmoil of your thoughts. You couldn't believe what you had discovered about Thomas - it seemed like a twisted nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. You wondered if he would even notice that you were gone, or if he already had other plans in motion to track you down and it was then when an older looking gentleman took a seat across from you in the train car.

He looked at you in a way that made you feel nervous , but you couldn't put your finger on why. He seemed kind enough, but something about him felt off.

You tried to ignore his gaze and looked out the window again, taking in the picturesque countryside as it rushed past you.

The gentleman across from you spoke up, introducing himself as George. You hesitated for a moment before responding politely, still wary of him.

As the train journey went on, George engaged you in light conversation, asking about your plans in London and your thoughts on the beautiful scenery outside.

You found yourself gradually relaxing in his presence, enjoying the distraction from the chaos of your thoughts while still remaining smart and reserved, not giving anything away about your past or plans for the future.

As the train pulled into London's Euston Station, George assisted you with your luggage as you disembarked the train but, just as you stepped out of the carriage, George waved towards two men who were standing near the exit of the platform.

These men didn't catch your attention initially, but their sudden movement towards you made you feel uneasy, and you knew in your gut that something was off.

As such, you took your suitcase from Goerge's hands and quickened your pace, trying to make your way through the crowds of people at the station, but you could feel George and his men following closely behind you. You tried to maintain your composure as a surge of fear coursed through your veins, knowing that you couldn't let them see how terrified you really were.

"Going somewhere Mrs Shelby?" another man then said, suddenly appearing in front of you , effectively blocking your escape route. This man was younger than George, but still significantly older than you and his dark hair and green eyes gave off a cold, intimidating vibe as he scrutinized you with an intense gaze.

You hesitated before answering, trying to keep your voice steady when you finally spoke up. "I-I'm just here to visit a friend in London," you said, swallowing the lump of fear that had formed in your throat. "I don't know why you're bothering me."

The young man chuckled humorlessly.

"A friend, you say? I find that hard to believe, Mrs. Shelby."

His words sent a shiver down your spine. How did this stranger know who you were? Had Thomas already discovered that you had left? Was this man working for him?

Before you could react, the man lifted up his suit jacket, indicating that he had a gun . The sight of it was enough to make your heart stop.

"You are coming with us," he said, his voice as cold as ice.

The words hung heavy in the air, and a sense of helplessness washed over you. The crowds of people passing by paid no mind to the scene unfolding before them, leaving you feeling isolated and exposed.

Your mind raced, searching for a way out of this predicament.

You thought of screaming for help or trying to run past them. But common sense took over, reminding you that these men were trained and likely armed. They could easily overpower you or worse, put a bullet in your head without hesitation.

It was a terrifying thought, one that sent a chill down your spine.

The man with the cold, green eyes studied you for a moment before motioning to his companions. "Take her," he instructed quietly. "But be nice to her. She is precious cargo, and her husband demands that you take the upmost care in returning her to him unharmed," he then chuckled and, before you knew what was happening, rough hands grabbed your arms and pulled you away from the crowd and towards an awaiting car. You struggled against their grip, but it was no use – they were too strong.

As you were pushed into the back seat of the car, you stole a glance out of the window.

The busy streets of London were a blur, and you fought back the tears that threatened to fall. You had been so foolish to think that you could escape from Thomas Shelby, the man whose ambition knew no bounds and who stopped at nothing to get what he wanted.

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ghost-likes-drawing · 1 day

Text

Just Wish I knew what caused it

(Fitpac exs to lovers)

Ch. 1 (to be named maybe)

Translations done with assistance from: @caracolast (Portuguese) @keezers and @iridescentpull (Spanish)

Fit was driving along the interstate in silence…. okay mostly silence.

The Radio had given out about an hour beforehand and Ramon was sitting in the passengers seat fixing it; which wasn't all that quiet.

Fit was almost thankful for the lack of music, even if it did mean he couldn't stop thinking, because at least that meant he could wear his prosthetic arm and keep control of the wheel. With this distraction Ramon wasn't itching to take it apart again.

Fit’s mind was wandering, thinking about the circumstances he'd ended up in.

A single father traveling halfway across the country in the middle of summer to live on a ranch with strangers; one of which he had possibly fought in a war with.

The only reason he was even entertaining the idea was because Phil had suggested it.

And the only reason he was going is that he ran out of ways to avoid it.

He had no job, no extended family, and his savings were dwindling fast.

Phil had called Cellbit last week asking if he still needed more hands and if he had space for them.

A few days later, Fit and Ramon had as much of their life as they could fit in the back of their truck, that was almost twice Ramon's age, and were off to California. Everything else of value they managed to get in storage and Fit had a Trust to keep that paid for a while.

And as he thought about how he'd even get their stuff, he realized he didn't ask nearly enough questions. He knew he name of the guy who agreed to hire him; Cellbit. He knows he has kids near Ramon's age and that he is married but to who? Phil mentioned another hand who lived there but through the frenzy Fit didn't at all hear who it was and based on how Phil was talking about it, maybe he was supposed to know one or both of them? And if he didn't were they trustworthy? Were any of them? Fit had already been thinking of that anyway. He didn't care much if something happened to him but if something happened to Ramon, his beautiful baby boy, a gift from heaven, Fit could never-

There's a sudden loud static noise before some cheesy pop song that Fit doesn't know starts playing. The volume is turned down, “Finally! Fuck… look Fit I got it.” Ramon proudly lifted up the radio for Fit to see out of the corner of his eye before Ramon put the Radio back in its spot in the dash.

Fit smiled letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding “Hey good job kid… you're going to make a lot of money one day, just don't forget about me when you're a rich and famous mechanic.” He ruffled Ramon’s hair and Ramon laughed.

“I could never. I learned everything from fixing your shit” Ramon scoffed, smiling before flipping down the visor and opening the mirror.

Ramon gently traced his fingers over his upper lip examining it excitedly. Ramon had wanted a mustache since he was 5 and he finally had some dark lip hair develop after his 15th birthday.

Fit was excited for him. Even if it would come with the discussions of how the hell do you even maintain and clean facial hair. Fit had personal experience and it could be a hassle.

“How much farther do we have?” Fit asked after a bit getting worried they somehow missed the exit.

Ramon checked his phone which was navigating them; “5 miles to the exit, then another 10 till we're actually there. It'll be about 20 minutes”

Fit nodded appreciatively. “Alright then.” he mentally calculated which lanes he should get in and when based off the traffic level in each. “You excited? There's bound to be plenty of stuff that could use your touch.”

Ramon nodded but even only half looking Fit could tell something was off. “…Tallulah and Chayanne wouldn't lie to you about the kids you know”

“I know… it's just a lot of change… and… I still feel like it's my fault.” Ramon shrugged

“Ramon…” Fit cooed in his usual tone when he's trying to be assuring

“I know… I know. You're the one who wore the wrong arm and then lost the data but just-” Ramon faltered

“Ramon, this could have happened without you being around. And honestly my arm was a bad place to store the data I don't know why he insisted upon it.” Fit put his hand on Ramon's shoulder “This isn't a ‘you’ problem. I have it handled now, and if this doesn't work out I'll get us a cheap camping spot and I'll find something eventually.”

Ramon nodded “alright” he hummed and looked out the window “Thanks, dad”

Fit smiled feeling that maybe this time Ramon would internalize it.

Soon they were off the interstate and driving straight until they got to the Ranch. Waiting to meet them was a man Fit hoped was Cellbit, with a child who Fit thought couldn't be older than 6 and an older child that seemed to be around Ramon's age.

The older one was sitting on the fence, swinging his legs. He wore a yellow and green Jersey for a team Fit didn't recognize but seemed to have a Brazilian flag on it. His eyes were covered by his curly hair that he seemed perfectly content on leaving despite acting like a lookout. He was wearing shorts and one of his socks seemed to go up higher than the other. Fit thought this looked odd…

The younger kid, who was using the paved road just inside the fenced area of the ranch to skateboard, was wearing a red and white striped shirt that was definitely to big for him as you could only just see his shorts even though they went to his knees. His knees were covered by his pads, the kid was also wearing a helmet that covered most of his hair but it seemed to have a curl of its own.. He did note this kid probably had the largest pair of glasses he ever saw on someone under 18. The kid almost looked like Where’s Waldo.

The adult, who appeared to be taking a break from his own skateboard, wore a white tank top and brown pants with a green long sleeve tied around his hips. The back of his brown hair, that was graying in the front, was pulled back and he seemed to be enjoying the sun. He turned as he heard Fit’s truck pull up and stop before the gate. He smiled and climbed over and hopped down.

The older kid went to hop down as well but the man clearly recognizing it before it could happen stopped him “Richarlyson! Tua perna não aguenta isso! Não pula dessa altura.”

The kid, Richarlyson, frowned climbing down instead and walked over to stand next to the man. Fit put the car in park and got out. “Hello, my name is Fit. I got hired to work here, I'm looking for Cellbit?”

The man smiled and offered his hands “I'm him, It's nice to meet you, Fit” he looked him over, his eyes eventually landing on his prosthesis “Nice arm, who do you get them from?”

Fit looked at his arm “oh. Uh my son actually made this one, I had kept a bunch of my old arms in a box and he managed to put this together for my birthday one year.”

“Que massa! My Pai made my leg!” Richarlyson proudly proclaimed pulling up his shorts to show where flesh met the sleeve of a prosthetic. That “sock” was not a sock at all but metal painted fully black and honestly it looked very well made.

“Oh wow” Fit looked to Cellbit impressed but Cellbit shook his head.

“Ah! Não sou eu. that's someone else. I mean I am his Pai but not the one who made the leg.” Cellbit chuckled putting an arm on Richarlyson’s back.

Now that Fit was closer, the scars that littered Cellbit’s arm’s and face became more obvious. That was a war veteran if he ever saw one.

“So kid,… uh how old are you?” Fit asked, that was a question you were supposed to ask kids you don't know right?

“14” Richarlyson answers. “You?”

Fit pauses, that's not usually how these conversations go, but before he can answer

"¡Apa Cellbi! ¿Puedo ir y decir hola?" The younger child called

Cellbit waved him over.

The kid took his helmet off and crawled through the fence before running up and hugging Cellbit “Hello!”

“This is my youngest, Pepito” Cellbit introduced

“Aww, hello Pepito, my Name is Fit.”

Pepito pointed to the truck “Who’s he?”

Every one looked to see and Ramon waved through the window realizing he was being stared at.

“That's my son Ramon. He's a bit shy” Fit explained

“Oh okay…” Pepito nodded “I like his hair.”

“I’ll tell him you said so” Fit assured.

“Let me go open the gate and you can drive up to the house” Cellbit said “we’ll catch up”

Fit nodded “I mean, I can drive you. The only stuff in the back passenger area is a couple of suitcases and a cooler that can be put in the back since we're here now.”

Cellbit nodded “Alright, thanks, thank you.”

Cellbit had the kids move to the side and then hopped the gate before getting it open. Fit got back in his truck and after explaining to Ramon, he slowly drove through, the kids walked in and Cellbit closed the gate before Fit got out of truck to move the bags.

Ramon got out too. “Hey Fit” Ramon said grabbing his bag and keeping his voice low.

“Yes, my child?”

Ramon held back a huff “I can sit in the back with the kids” he offered

“You sure?” Fit asked, in Fit’s mind the truck was more Ramon’s then it was his own. Sure Fit bought it well before Ramon was something he even dreamed of having in his life but it only still ran because Ramon had got really into machines at age five. Ramon was his go-to mechanic since he turned eight. When Ramon was ten, Fit adapted his Will to specifically say the truck was not to be sold till Ramon decided. If felt wrong to sit Ramon in the back.

“I'm sure. It's a short drive. Makes you look better if your son has manners anyway.” Ramon nudged Fit with his shoulder

Fit nodded and patted Ramon’s shoulder before everyone filed into the truck.

Since Pepito was so young and Also small for his age, he sat upfront in Cellbit’s lap while Ramon and Richarlyson sat in the back. They were at the house in less than 2 minutes.

“So you're going to just pull up here. There's been a change of plan unfortunately.” Cellbit stated.

Fit stopped the truck and looked to Cellbit, worried.

“The guest house we'd usually have you stay in had a pipe burst and it flooded 2 days ago. It's still getting maintenance.” Cellbit explained “so for the time being you'll be in the guest room in the main house. It does lock” he said assuredly seeing Fit tense up.

Fit nodded. That was fine wasn't too bad, they'd manage. “Thanks for the heads up” he turned the truck off and got out.

As soon as Pepito was allowed to get out he ran into the house to go put the skateboarding things away. Cellbit chuckled and got out as well.

Ramon and Richarlyson waited a second but they didn't have much to stay in the car for, so they followed their dads.

“Mr. Cellbit?” Ramon piped up.

“Hm, yes?” Cellbit looked at him “what is it?”

“If you need help with the pipes situation I might be able to lend a hand” Ramon offered “I'm pretty handy”

Cellbit smiled “that's good to know but I think we got things under control"

“Yea my Pai is handiling it!” Richarlyson smiled “he's pretty good with that stuff.”

“It's true. I'm lucky to have him around” Cellbit shrugged “but hey, maybe he’ll want the help. We can always ask”

The door to the house opened “Cellbit, 'cê não me contou que o funcionário novo 'tava aqui” the door closed.

Fit thought the voice sounded familiar but… no that couldn't be. He looked up to see his new co-worker.

“Foi mal, Pac,” Cellbit states although whatever else he says was drowned out in Fit’s brain as he locks eyes with Pac for the first time in over a decade.

This couldn’t be happening… right? This was all a weird fucked up dream.

“Pai!” Richarlyson runs up to meet Pac pulling him into a hug that disrupts Pac’s eyes from looking into Fit’s as Pac hugs Richarlyson back “Olha pro braço do cara novo! Ele disse que o filho dele que fez, igual você fez minha perna!"”

And the nightmare gets worse as the realization dawns on him that not only has he disturbed his Ex’s peace half way across the country, but that Pac’s husband is his employer. “That’s just great”, Fit thinks.

Fit adjusts his shirt some and finally averts his gaze. Yep, he only feels the shirt in his right hand, he’s wide awake.

“Do you two know each other?” he hears Cellbit ask as the world goes back into focus.

“Oh uh, yea we did.. once..” Fit responds, not daring to lie

“Don't worry about it” Pac adds “it was a while ago.” But Pac’s face hides nothing in this moment. He's not happy. “I'm going back to fixing the guest house” And Pac kisses the top of Richarlyson’s head before walking off.

Without his permission, Fit’s eyes follow Pac .

If Cellbit knows what's happening he saves Fit the embarrassment of making it clear. “Come on. You're probably tired from all the driving. Let’s go get you two settled”

He pats Fit’s back hard enough to bring his attention back to the present and helps them get their bags before he leads him and Ramon inside. Pepito is coloring at the table and Ramon smiles and waves as they pass.

Cellbit leads them upstairs and to a room that's the most separated from the rest on that floor. “Com licença, I need to get the door unlocked”

He counts five bedroom doors and one labeled bathroom plus the one him and Ramon will be sharing for the time being and Fit starts trying to work out who they belong to. Just to keep his bearings. Only two of the doors actually seem to lock so one is probably Cellbit and Pac's while the other probably belongs to the other ranchhand he hasn’t met yet. One of the doors has a little pillow on the outside meant for teeth when parents don't want to risk waking their kids up by going under the pillow. That's probably Pepito’s. One of the blank door’s is probably Richarlyson’s but then who's the other belong to?

Cellbit finally managed to unlock the door, “Entendi!” He hands the key to Fit. Cellbit holds the door for Ramon and Fit as they shuffle in and put their bags to the side. It was a nice room, Decently decorated, there was a photo of an older gentleman labeled “Alfredo” on the bedside table that caused Cellbit to sigh "ai meu Deus...” he rolled his eyes and grabbed it “sorry I thought I cleared all the photos out, my husband must have snuck back in here and left this as a joke.”

Fit nodded not getting the joke himself “No worries. Thank you so much again for this. You have no clue what this means to me”

“Of course, of course, veterans have to look out for eachother.” Cellbit shrugged “and honestly you're saving my ass, we really need the help”

Fit nods and Cellbit leaves them to unpack

“That guy, Richarlyson’s other Pai.. you knew him, more then you let on.” Fit looked to Ramon “didn't you?”

Fit paused but before he could answer he was getting a call and used that as an excuse to avoid the question “one sec Ramon, Hello?”

“Hey Fit, haven't heard from you since you left just making sure you're safe.” It was Phil, he could have checked he just forgot.

“Oh yea… things are good… We got here safe, everyone's been nice…” Fit nodded

“Seeing Pac bothered you more then you thought it would huh?” Phil hummed sympathetically

“You knew?!” Fit demanded

“ I told you! How did you miss that!?” Phil demanded back

Fit paused and the more he thought about it the more of that conversation felt like a blur “You-!… you… probably did…” Fit sighed “yea it shocked me…”

Fit could hear Phil frown “I'm sorry Mate.., would you have not gone if you realized?”

Fit thought about it “no I would have… just would have been nice to be more prepared, it's my own fault I didn't pay attention” he chuckled. Ramon sat down on the bed testing its comfort.

Phil hummed “yea kinda is.” He said in his usual smug tone that at least caused Fit to laugh “but seriously, you going to be alright? It's a big change”

“Yea we’ll be alright don't you worry” Fit assured

“Alright, just remember if you need to talk-”

“I know I know” Fit interrupted “alright old man get back to your kids and let me get back to mine”

Phil scoffed to hide his laugh “yea whatever. Talk soon”

“Talk soon” and Fit hung up

Ramon looked up at him “didn't you” he repeated less a question and more of a reminder.

Fit frowned “well if you have to know, Drama Queen, yes I did. But it doesn't matter. Please drop it.”

Ramon seemed unsatisfied with the answer but shrugged “fine, that picture of the old guy was a really weird joke though right?”

Fit smiled “totally weird. Also ‘Alfredo’?”

Ramon chuckled and nodded “double weird”

Fit chuckled back.

Things just seemed to get complicated whereever Fit goes. But maybe this time… maybe this time things will just be okay.

Next>

Please point out any weird looking errors if you see them so I can fix them. I did get this beta's like twice and I found 3 different problems while making this post.

#qsmp #fitmc #qsmp fitmc #hideduo #fitpac #Qsmp Ramon #Just wish I knew what caused it #Ghost Draws's writing #ghost likes writing #pepito qsmp #qsmp richarlyson #qsmp cellbit #qsmp pactw #qsmp pac

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halfratsalready · 11 hours

Text

The "What if the Traveler is Jack's Dad?" Dilemma & The Power of Character Design in Just Dance’s Storytelling

Originally I had an entire post of all of my thoughts on the worry that the Night Swan event will confirm that Jack's father is the Traveler, but this part made up well over half of it, so I made it a post of its own. I might post the rest separately at some point (I don't even know if I actually think that Ubisoft will make it canon, but I did this anyway).

I went a little crazy on this one, but stick with me here. I am well aware that people don't have to look anything like their parents, but in the world of things like video games (and especially in a game that has to rely entirely on visuals in the absence of dialogue), it's not a bad idea to make related characters visually similar enough for the audience to put their relation together, and the Just Dance team has done an excellent job of this with Wanderlust, so I thought I'd do some analysis on it in relation to the "Jack is the Traveler's son" theory we're all so worried about. This is a very long post - you have been warned.

Disclaimer of sorts: I'm not a costume designer. I'm not a character designer. I'm a musical theater composer, though, who has worked closely with artists on costume design, and I like to think that I have a pretty decent handle on the basics of visual storytelling through character design, which is what this entire post is based off of.

(This post also contains a small spoiler for Sweet Dreams, though it seems that it won’t be a beta for much longer…)

One of the cool things about Wanderlust's appearance is the way that the designers managed to give him his own unique look while also paying homage to both of his parents. It's important to note here that both Si'ha Nova and the Traveler were already well established characters by the time of Wanderlust's first appearance in JD23, so it was important to give him those visual similarities to make his connection to them more apparent.

The most obvious visual similarity between Si'ha and Wanderlust is their blue skin, which makes it pretty clear upon first glance that they're related. A non-genetic but still obvious visual similarity between the two is the use of triangle motifs. Si'ha has one on her head and more on her earrings, for example, while Wanderlust has them on his crown, one on his glove, and one on his belt. I think that it's also worth noting that the golden accents on Wanderlust's sleeves are vaguely reminiscent of the ones on Si'ha's purple glove. They both also have purple, gold, and pink in their overall designs.

Wanderlust has fewer “genetic” visual similarities with his father than he does with his mother, but they're still there. The only "genetic" similarity that they really have is the blue hair (granted, Wanderlust's is only a streak of blue, but it's still there, and his eyebrows are blue, as well). They have a ton of other visual similarities in their designs, though. Just like Si'ha, the Traveler has several triangle motifs throughout his appearance. The one he wears on a chain around his neck is very similar to the one on Wanderlust's glove and belt. They both have their own unique triangle symbols, but they're quite similar. Also notable is Wanderlust's half-cape, which is dark with gold accents, much like the Traveler's cloak. Once again, those gold lines on the Traveler's cloak are similar to the ones on Wander's sleeve. Additionally, Wanderlust seems to have the same eye color as both of his parents.

Even when he's been transformed by Night Swan's spell, Night Wanderlust (or, as I like to call him, Swanderlust) has several visual similarities to both of his parents that he doesn't have in his "normal" form. Though not the same shape or color, he has a shape over one of his eyes like the Traveler does, and those shapes on the black part of his shirt are, to me, very reminiscent of the circles on Si'ha's blue glove. And that little triangle on his crown is remarkably similar to the one on Si'ha's head, black surrounded by gold (I also think the blue of the feathers on his cape are similar in color to the Traveler’s shirt).

I know that Sweet Dreams is a beta (though it might not be for much longer) and that it's very possible that if they do release it, they might change this shot, but for now, I want to use it. When I first saw this shot of Night Swan at the end of Sweet Dreams, I was really thrown off because something felt very wrong with it, and I realized that it's her eyes. They are such a bright green here. It felt like such an intentional choice, and it made me think of the fact that all of Jack's avatars (though you can see it most clearly in his legendary avatar) have green eyes. Does he have green eyes in the actual game? No. But I thought it was an interesting enough detail to include here. Personally, my headcanon is that Night Swan had green eyes before she became Night Swan, at which point they turned yellow, meaning that her eyes are naturally green and that she passed that trait on to her son.

Though they're rather lacking in "genetic" similarities, though, Night Swan and Jack have plenty of those visual similarities that Wanderlust has with his parents (I also think it's worth mentioning that, save for that one teaser in Season 1: Astral, Night Swan and Jack were introduced in the same game, meaning that the need to make Jack as visually similar to her isn't necessarily as important, because Night Swan isn't an established character like Si'ha and the Traveler were prior to Wanderlust's appearance). The pink feathers are an obvious visual similarity between the two. They also both wear gold earrings and have a golden chain (Night Swan on her coat and Jack hanging from his pocket), and Night Swan's golden claws are represented by the golden glove on Jack's hand.

I also want to throw out there that Wanderlust is the son of two "good" characters, and his visual similarities to them indicate that he has that same "goodness." Jack, on the other hand, is the son of a villain, and making him stand out from his mother visually is a good way to represent from the start that he's supposed to be a sympathetic character who isn't anything like his mother. Because it's a dancing game, we don't get any sort of dialogue from him that could indicate that he's not a villain, so we're left to rely on his expressions (which Mickael did a fucking phenomenal job on) and his overall design. Making him stand out from his mother visually is a good way to show us from the start that he's not inherently on his mother's side.

Assuming the Traveler is Jack's father, there is essentially no similarity between the two save for the inclusion of some gold accents. I would say they have the same eye color, but I feel like Jack's dark eyes are overridden by the green eyes in all three of his avatars. Granted, it makes sense for Jack's appearance to be influenced by his mother considering she's the one who raised him, but I think that, from a storytelling perspective, it would have been a smart move to include some semblance of a visual similarity between Jack and the Traveler if they had really intended from the start for the Traveler to be Jack's father. If they did intend on this being a plot point from the start, they intentionally kept it a secret by not including a single visual clue, which is, to me as a storyteller, a sort of annoying thing that makes it seem like they’re more focused on pulling the rug out from under the audience than they are on making sure that the plot twists make sense. But hey, that’s just me.

If you actually, read all of that, I love you and you are the best and thank you for actually taking the time to read my ridiculous rambles. I hope it was at least mildly interesting and made some decent points.

#just dance #just dance theory #just dance 2022 #just dance 2023 #just dance 2024 #jd si’ha nova #the traveler just dance #wanderlust just dance #wanderlust jd #jack rose just dance #jack rose jd #night swan just dance #night swan jd

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princessbrunette · 19 hours

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I’m really bored and i’m thinking about your blog, so here’s some more animal readers for you incase you’re looking for some new ideas.

fox!reader: she’s a pouge of course, sly and cunning but she can be shy and timid like an actual fox, lowkey a kleptomaniac, been arrested several times on account of shop lifting. Loves jean skirts, and baby tees, and a pair of wedges on her feet. She’s uses tears as a weapon.

I can also see her with pouge rafe, they’re not friends exactly but they know eachother (maybe they grew up together) one day she overheard him talking about how tight money is at the moment, and so she shows up to his house with thousands of dollars in a bag and holds it out to him all sweetly like “i got this for you.” And he’s all wide eyed like “where the fuck did you get all this from?” and she’s like “it was sitting in suitcase at barry’s house and no one’s name was on it, i got it for you.” all innocently and now he’s an near hyperventilating, snapping at her “you’re gonna get both of us fucked up.” and she gets teary eyed like “but i got it for you 🥺”

She meets john b when he catches her stealing one of his chickens (like foxes do, except she doesn’t want to eat it, she wants it as a pet) She tries to hide the chicken under her shirt when he catches her, & johnb’s like “do you…have one of my chickens?” scratching his head all confused and half asleep cs its 10 in the morning, and she’s like “….no.” even as the chicken is literally freaking out under her jacket, stomps her foot when he tries to retrieve his chicken and tells him that “you don’t need them all! you already have so many!” and he just like “they’re literally mine though….” and she starts crying, until he gives her an egg. then probably runs away without saying thank you cs she’s scared he might take it back. Johnb tells everyone about it later and literally no one believes him.

or maybe even regular look rafe. She’s Always getting into trouble with him because she think “no” means “find a way to do it yourself.” it’s a slow and grueling process for him, breaking her out of her sneaky habits, i mean he literally met her when she pickpocketed him at a party she snuck her way into, (he did not like that told her “oh your ass is going to prison now.” and had to literally chase her down when she tried to make a run for it. she ended up crying and he let her go.)

met jj in an over night holding cell at the county jail, after she was picked up for…breaking and entering (in her defense she saw something shiny through the window and had to have it) jj thinks it’s cute when she tearfully confesses why she’s there, so he takes her under his wing and introduces her to the pouges (she’s instrumental in the search for gold cs she’s so smart and knows how to manipulate people into getting what she wants.)

She met pope when she quite literally walked up to him while he’s doing work for his dad, points at his shark tooth necklace and says “can i have that?” and he gives it to her cs he’s super confused and also why not, she’s cute and she looks like she might start sobbing if he says no) and then it became a thing that she asks for something of his every time she sees him, he doesn’t know what she’s doing with all his shit, but it’s fine.

she’s cute and so me, so i’ll let you decide which of the boys she would be with!

this is sooooo good !! i think moony writes a fox reader but im not sure how similar this is !!!!! i love her being a klepto and i think she works great with pogue!rafe !! both very rough n tumble but fox still has that sweetness to her n rafe very clearly doesn’t. all her interactions with the pogues are so fun too — this is a 10/10 🩷🩷

#anon #fox!reader #chatting ૮₍ • ˕ - ₎ა♡₊˚

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dominimoonbeam · 3 days

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😁 Oh, my lovely, wonderful Domini

I have a dream… of using the combined prompts,

“Well, someone’s cranky today.” and “Well, someone needs to shut the fuck up.” combined with *kissing to annoy a third party*, involving David & Darlin snarking at each other, and upon realizing Quinn is watching, choosing to kiss each other to piss him off 😈 Bonus points if they quickly forget the point of the kiss is to annoy Quinn 🤣 💋

CHAR!! I love it. Thank you so much for this ask!!

I might flesh this one out more before I post it to ao3... We'll see.

David/Darlin

tags: first kiss, idiots in love, drinking, bar fight

MY WHAT BIG TEETH YOU HAVE

David nursed his beer at the bar, making sure to take it slow because Asher was hellbent on dragging him to the dance floor when he was done with this one.

Fuck that.

Darlin leaned against the bar beside him, turned the other way to face the room, their arms pressing back to settle elbows on the surface. “At this rate we’re going to need to carry him home,” the remarked.

David turned enough to look back over his shoulder at the floor and Asher. He bit the inside of his lip to hide a smile. Ash and about half the pack were dominating the dancefloor—not pushing anyone else out but definitely a presence. It was impossible not to be. A fire elemental stepped closer to Asher and even from across the room David caught that look, the curious one asking to get even closer to Asher. He only watched long enough to see the grin on his best friend’s face before looking away again, taking a deep drink off his beer because he would not need to worry about Asher coming back to bother him tonight.

“Doesn’t look like we’ll be the ones carrying him.”

Darlin laughed and then snagged his beer.

“Get your own,” he griped but rolled his eyes when the finished it.

“We’re sharing!”

“The fuck we are!”

Darlin pouted. “Well, someone’s cranky today…”

“Well, someone needs to shut the fuck up,” he countered, but flagged the bartender for another, signaling for a second bottle for the shifter next to him.

Someone else came up to them… or rather, came up to Darlin.

David glanced over his shoulder at the vampire looking Darlin over from head to toe, lingering on their neck.

Darlin, for their part, stared back, mostly bored.

“I heard you’re into biting,” the vampire said, not having to raise their voice to have it slithering in their ears.

David swiveled to the side, more than ready to show this biter just how fast a shifter could move.

But Darlin grinned. “I am. But you can go back and tell him that his little teeth don’t do it for me anymore.”

David raised an eyebrow, not sure what they meant until the vampire hissed and bolted back into the crowd. It was fast enough that he barely clocked them until they reappeared on the other side of the club, at a cluster of couches and next to another vampire.

Quinn.

David turned forward before he could show that he even noticed him, picking up a beer and taking the first drink. He knew Darlin was staring back at their ex from across the room. He’d been a nightmare and the breakup had been violent and ugly, but that was a few years ago now. Darlin was back with the pack, safe and happy, just like he’d always hoped they would be.

David passed them the beer in his hand and they took it like that was always the plan. “Little teeth, huh?”

Darlin sipped and shrugged, turning their head to look back at him. “I know it’s petty but if he’s going to send his creeps to try to make me uncomfortable I figure it’s fair to try to piss him off…”

David shook his head. “It’s not petty.”

Darlin took another swig and then passed the bottle back to him. “He’s always thought you and me had a thing.”

David looked at them again. The idea sent a jolt through him, maybe because he’d always had a soft spot for Darlin. Maybe Quinn wasn’t quite as stupid as David always thought… “Do you want to really piss him off?”

Darlin blinked at him, trying to play it cool, but their gaze flicked to his mouth for a second and then back his eyes. “What?”

David shrugged.

Darlin smiled slowly. “Seriously?”

David shrugged again.

Darlin flashed teeth, tempted. “He might lose it…”

“He already lost it,” David reminded, waiting. And let that biter make a move. David wasn’t worried.

Darlin slid their back along the bar, into his space, and he lifted his arm from the surface to give them that real estate in front of him, his hand settling on their hip.

Darlin curled an arm around the back of his shoulders. “You drunk?” they asked, checking.

He laughed before he could catch it. The idea of them checking to make sure they weren’t taking advantage of him was too funny.

“Shut up,” Darlin laughed while scolding.

He leaned down and kissed them, soft and short first, their lips still close and their bodies practically pressed together.

Darlin blinked, stunned, and then kissed him harder, pulling themself flush against him.

David wound his arm around their back, devouring that kiss like it might be his only.

Later that morning, he’d know that he forgot the kiss was to piss off Quinn the second they slid in front of him, and so had they.

But it had still worked.

Later that morning, he’d hear from Milo how Quinn shot across the room like a missile, fangs out.

He hadn’t known then only because Quinn never made it close enough for it to matter. Asher caught him halfway across the club, shifting into a wolf and closing teeth around his ribcage before he made it.

The whole empowered club erupted into a bar fight that somehow devolved into a flashy show of powers once the vampires were tossed out. The Department arrived late enough to frown in confusion, scold the lot of them, and write citations for risking covert with indoor storms, fireworks, and earthquakes set to the beat of music.

#redactedverse #fanfic #prompt fic #first kiss prompt #<3 #david/darlin #davlin #dominimoonbeam #romance #a doMINIfic

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imtrashraccoon · 2 days

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Do you have any romantic headcanons or headcanons in general for dirk, maul and reven? Dovovan can be added into the mix too! Just curious on those three since we've only seen how they interact with somebody who they are fighting against, being soulmates with their boss and joining the team. :o so curious on how they would do with somebody they fall for.

Oh boy, oh boy, do I?! So, I'm actually gonna just spitball some general headcanons as well because I love these guys and need to write for them!

The Dark Fortress: Headcanons

Dirk

- He's a really crass kind of person. You've never heard so many different ways to curse before meeting him and most of the time, you have no idea what half of what he says even means. He's also loud, obnoxious, and endlessly flirtatious towards anyone remotely attractive in his eyes. No one is safe, even those in commited relationships, but his advances aren't ever serious. Well, except for when they are.

- He struggles to feel much of anything most days. Which is why he acts the way he does most of the time. He needs stimulation. He needs to stay busy. He needs to interact with people or he'll go crazy. Depending what phase his soul is at the moment also impacts how he responds to people. He doesn't really like talking about his soul though.

- Despite what you might think, and what he insists, he's not from high society. He had very simple beginnings, think a farmer or something to do with physical labour, but he never talks about his childhood. If it ever comes up, he gets deathly quiet and withdrawn. You get the sense that whatever actually happened to him was pretty bad if the guy who never shuts up suddenly refuses to talk.

- He doesn't really talk about anything before he joined up with the band of brigands actually. He likes to boast about all the heists he took part in and how much he made from them. He doesn't talk about what happened to cause him to snap completely and kill the people he used to call brothers, but considering how much he values loyalty, you suspect it's somehow related.

- He's a huge flirt but somewhat surprisingly, he won't pressure you into anything that you aren't comfortable with. If you clearly tell him to stop, he will, no questions asked. He mostly flirts for his own amusement since he finds other people's reactions incredibly funny. He does get up to his own escapades whenever the opportunity presents itself, which isn't as often anymore now that he works for Donovan.

- As for how he'd react towards something more long term? You'd think a guy with a penchant for messing around and flirting with anything that breaths might be a poor choice in a partner. His unyielding loyalty means that he'll be there for you through anything and everything, providing you do the same for him. He's your ride or die, but woe to anyone foolish enough to betray his loyalty.

- With Dirk as a partner, you will never be bored as he won't allow it. He struggles with any type of emotion that isn't passion or violence, but once you become close with him, you'll begin to see an entirely different person.

- Dirk is oddly sweet when he's alone with you. He loves snuggling, usually he'll insist on being the big spoon, and will often find excuses to stay in bed with you. He's a physical touch kind of person already, generally giving it, but he would love it if you did the same for him.

- He's really good at giving compliments and if you're feeling down, he's quick to try and cheer you up. You're his rock and if you're sad, he's gonna be sad and neither of you want to see that.

- He's still a really dangerous person though, even with all his obnoxiousness and flirting. No matter how long you're in a relationship, he's still scared of accidentally hurting you. Oddly enough, being around you does calm him down if he's worked up, so unless he's in an actually dangerous state of mind, you might get shoved into the same room as him if any of the others need him to calm down quickly.

- While he enjoys killing people for the chance to get more EXP, Dirk has a couple of more "normal" hobbies. He likes to "collect" weapons and cool looking armour, even if he won't actually use most of them. He just likes having dangerous and shiny things. He also likes animals, especially cats, but most animals don't do well around the corruption from the dark fortress. If you somehow find him a pet that can survive, you'll be his best friend for a while.

- He knows how to properly use most types of weapons, even some obscure ones, but he prefers a dagger since it's easier to sneak into places he's not supposed to have weapons. He's totally the type to have multiple knives hidden on his person at all times, sometimes even while sleeping.

Maul

- If Dirk is the loudest and most energetic, Maul is the quietest and generally the calmest. He speaks pretty much only when spoken to and when the question can't be answered with a simple yes or no. Even then, he keeps his answers brief and moves on to whatever he was already doing before being interrupted. This changes when he realizes that he likes you though.

- Maul generally keeps to himself when Donovan doesn't have need of him. He's basically a brick wall most of the time anyways, but he does show some emotions at times. This is mostly the occasional grin, raising a bonebrow, or frowning if he's annoyed. It's rare for him to emote since he doesn't want people to know what he's thinking, but occasionally he'll catch himself reacting to something genuinely funny or express some of his frustrations.

- Maul mostly spends his free time doing chores like sharpening his greataxe, maintaining his gear and armour, or working on his hobbies. He enjoys cooking, especially baking, and often is the one in charge of meals. Except for maybe Donovan, who is at least competent in the kitchen, he's the only one who can cook well. Maul also likes taking care of animals or gardening, although it's harder to do either of those now that he's staying in the dark fortress.

- He doesn't talk about himself, at all. If you can somehow start a conversation with him, he'll talk about literally anything else but his past or the things he's done. Just be patient, as his idea of a conversation is letting you do the bulk of the talking while he listens, usually while doing something else, and occasionally answering with grunts or one word answers.

- The thing is, while Dirk is immediately up front if he likes you, Maul isn't really, at least not to any outside observers. He's just doing normal things that anyone would do for others, right? He'll randomly make foods you like, bring you something to drink or eat if you've been busy for a while, and come see you just to "hang out". To the others, it's very, very obvious that he likes you as he pretty much ignores them most of the time, but you might have a more difficult time figuring it out.

- He even starts to engage with you about topics he's knowledgeable on. He knows exactly how to sharpen any weapon or tool and while he may not have as much martial knowledge as Reven, he could probably still teach you a thing or two about throwing your weight around in battle. He doesn't do sneaky or small weapons though so if you want tips, you're fresh out of luck with him.

- He'd love it if you joined in on whatever he's working on. Making food for others is one of his ways of showing he cares, so to do it with a partner is a great way to bond with him. You'll get bonus points if you have experience cooking/baking already, especially if you've memorized recipes or have made up some of your own.

- Maybe when you get really close, he might let you in on his backstory, although it'll take a while to put together all the pieces since he isn't gonna sit you down and explain everything at once. Instead you'll get little comments here and there randomly like how he learned to get meat to stretch as far as possible or how much he despises tyrants. He definitely didn't come from wealth but it's hard to tell if he had a simple upbringing like Dirk or if he was enlisted into military service at a young age. He doesn't care how anyone perceives him anymore but he struggles with believing that anyone could find him anything but scary.

- His head injury has impacted his memory and changed a lot about how he processes emotions and approaches situations. He sometimes takes a bit to respond to questions but at least combat still comes as naturally to him as breathing does. He's much more patient as a result and takes his time doing tasks so they're done correctly the first time.

- He's a very doting lover. All he wants is to have a calm, relaxed life without having to fight for survival each day. If he had his way, you wouldn't have to lift a finger for anything. Things like breakfast in bed and cuddles in the evening by a fireplace are a regular occurrence. He also loves physical touch, both giving and especially receiving, but his larger size makes it a bit difficult for him to be the small spoon while cuddling.

- He's also majorly protective, almost like a guard dog. If he thinks someone's bothering you, he'll come up to you, wrap his arms around you, and frown at them. To you, he doesn't look that scary, but to anyone else outside the dark fortress, he's downright terrifying. He's not above growling at people if they don't get the message but unless you're in an actually dangerous situation, he's more likely to pick you up and leave than actually start a fight. Not that it would be much of a fight for him, but he doesn't enjoy needlessly killing people, especially in front of you.

- He experiences nightmares and zoning out fairly often. He's been through a lot before joining Donovan, including a coup that overthrew the monarchy which resulted in a famine and caused many citizens to suffer. He stood by as people starved and did nothing but follow orders like a good soldier should. It took his own brother attempting to stand up to the tyrannical general for him to act. In the resulting conflict, he was mortally injured although he survived. The head injury left him with a memory gap so that he isn't certain who walked away from the fight or who was dusted. He doesn't even know if his brother made it out or not.

Reven

- Reven is somewhere in the middle, although he tends to be a bit more quiet rather than chatty like Dirk. He generally likes to sit back and observe the situation before injecting himself. He's a schemer by nature and thanks to his incredible observation skills, he often notices details that others won't. If he's approaching you to talk before you have a chance to approach him, it's likely because he thinks he can get something from you.

- He's prone to random outbursts of laughter, especially if the room has been quiet for a while. If asked what's so funny, he usually attempts to brush the question off by claiming that you wouldn't get it. He's aware that it probably makes him look insane but it's the truth.

- He won't readily admit it but he hears the voice of his dead brother constantly as he's haunted by him. It's unclear if it's actually his brother's soul or just a figment of his insanity, but Reven fully believes that he literally has his brother haunting him. While his brother normally has murderous tendencies, if that behaviour isn't directed towards you, then Reven is gonna pay extra close attention.

- You catch him staring a lot, like a lot, a lot. His face is almost always hidden by his hood but you can usually still see his eyelights and feel the intensity of his gaze. Even when you catch a glimpse of his face, it's like he's wearing a mask. His expression rarely changes but when it does, he tends to grin with unknown glee or glare at whatever has irritated him in the moment.

- It often takes a lot to make Reven actually angry, but when something tips him over the edge, you better hope there's nothing particularly valuable or fragile nearby. He wouldn't dream of actually hurting you but there isn't any guarantee that you won't get caught in the crossfire. Most of the time, Dirk is the target of his anger but he likes to purposely rile Reven up when he's bored, which is fairly often.

- It's true that Reven used to be a paladin before snapping. He and his brother were raised in a dusty backwater kingdom that has since collapsed but when they were young, they decided to join a holy order to defend those who couldn't defend themselves. They were brave and noble paladins until disaster struck of course.

- Reven doesn't talk about what actually caused him to snap. It's possible that he was responsible for his brother's death and doesn't know it, or he is very much aware and just refuses to even think about it. Either way, he abandoned the order after this and eventually his insanity led him to become the serial killer responsible for the Crimson Stabbings. His obsessive nature led him to never actually be caught, although he was spotted often enough to become known for his red cuirass.

- He occasionally gets the itch for more EXP and will look for opportunities to kill again, for this reason he isn't usually left alone on stealth missions. He's good at what he does though and with the proper motivation, will complete any mission perfectly without anyone even knowing he was there.

- His obsessive nature can lead to concerning situations, especially if you haven't figured out that he likes you yet. You'll start receiving gifts from an unknown admirer that are very obviously tailored to your preferences. Sometimes you even get the feeling of being watched but there's never anyone there. Hopefully, you already know him before he makes a confession of love and hopefully you accept his affections. Otherwise, well, he doesn't do well with rejection and there's no telling what he'll do.

- He's really sweet when you're in a relationship though. He enjoys spoiling you with little gifts and lives for your gratitude since it makes him feel oddly fuzzy inside. He's also super cuddly and will find any excuse just to sit with his skull on your shoulder and arms around your waist. He also likes PDA and will shamelessly hold your hand in front of others. He may not actually kiss you in public but if he does, it's probably because he thinks it'll upset someone or make you embarrassed, which he thinks is really adorable.

- It goes without saying that his mental state is unstable but just be patient with him. If he's having a bad day, give him some space to calm down but if you approach him later on, he'd love it if you comforted him. You'll probably get confined to the couch with him holding onto you. He's not that heavy as he's a skeleton but it's a bit difficult to move around with a whole person hanging off of you. Best to wait it out.

Donovan

- Donovan is an interesting case. He claims that he can't feel emotions beyond negative ones, which is technically true. Once he finds his soulmate though, he starts to question everything that he knows about himself. While he isn't the person he used to be anymore, maybe there's a semblance of his old self still there?

- No matter how much you look or how many people you ask, there is no information on him. It's as if he just popped into existence or something. He's not exactly one to talk about the past either, which seems to be a running theme by now, but maybe someday he'll tell you what happened to him. He wasn't always covered in corruption or had tentacles protruding from his back after all.

- He's really not a nice person and while he's generally very patient and reserved, even his patience has limits. He tries not to get upset at you but there are times when he inevitably snaps and says something he shouldn't. He usually regrets it immediately afterwards but sometimes he won't notice how upset you are for a few hours.

- Most of the time, he acts cold towards you and the boys but he does care in his own way. He makes sure you have anything you could need to survive and be happy as he struggles with anything more. He's fiercely protective of those he calls his own, which may come as a bit of a surprise at times, but he really does consider you and the boys as his "family".

- He has no patience for foolishness or people trying to deceive him. This is why he might lash out at people and harshly punish those who wrong him. Of course, he's also rather selfish and isn't above just taking what he wants. He very much sees himself as a god and everyone else as being below him.

- He has genuinely sweet moments, although these are strictly reserved for his soulmate. Something about the closeness with an uncorrupted soul seems to almost "heal" his own very damaged one. Maybe there's hope for him after all?

- He's actually a little shy about PDA, although he doesn't mind holding onto you if he can excuse it away with being protective but behind closed doors it's an entirely different story. He loves touching you. He loves how warm your body is, how soft you are, and especially the little noises you make when he touches a ticklish or sensitive spot. He's super mindful of his claws and his own physical strength as he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he seriously hurt you.

- He will gladly snuggle with you and will often drag you into bed if you're taking too long for his liking. He wouldn't force you to do anything you aren't comfortable with but you may have to get firm with him if he's distracted and not listening. His tentacles are basically an extension of his own body and mean he has an even easier time hanging onto you. If anything, he prefers to touch you with them since they are soft and squishy, as well as cool to the touch.

- He was very lonely before the boys and you especially came along. He collected them because their souls ooze negativity and he enjoys having an easy source of it nearby. He also wanted to have henchmen to facilitate his own plans and spreading more negativity. Over time though, he's come to kind of see them as his own and not just pawns. It's an unconventional arrangement at best though and they butt heads a ton, but he's provided a place for the destitute, the lost, and the vagabonds to stay.

- When you've earned his trust and been together for a while, you'll learn about who he used to be and where he's from. This could be through an ancient book that he keeps locked away for safekeeping or through bits and pieces of what he tells you. However, you learn a few things such as how he was once a prince of a lost kingdom, had a twin brother, and barely survived an assassination attempt.

- There was a massive tree at the center of his kingdom which bore two kinds of magic fruit. It was rumoured that if you ate one, you would gain knowledge beyond all measure and the power to defeat all foes. The fruit also had the power to influence your emotions but this wasn't of much interest for those who lusted after them. Donovan ate all of the negative fruit in an attempt to survive a mortal injury and protect the tree. However, he was overwhelmed by the power and failed.

- He aimlessly wandered the world for many years before he grew into his powers and decided to make a move to create his own kingdom. This is why he created the dark fortress and collected the boys. At the moment, his goal is to spread the corruption and his influence, but contrary to what some may think, he isn't all powerful. There are many powerful people out there who may take issue with him if they heard about everything he's done.

#raccoons headcanons #anon ask #undertale #fantasy au #the dark fortress #killer sans #horror sans #dust sans #nightmare sans #killertale #something new #horrortale #dusttale #dreamtale

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