#move it mob style | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prettyfastcars · 3 months

Text

dangerous, tainted, and flawed | Dark!Mob!Lando

Summary: You met your husband under disturbing circumstances a couple of years ago. Your home was under attack one night, by one of your family’s rivals, and Lando – one of your father’s allies – came to help. He found you in your bedroom that night, and managed to save you but unfortunately no one else in your family survived the attack. You were distraught after that night, having lost everything, but Lando took care of you. Eventually, you two fell in love, he proposed, and you got married. Your life has been perfect ever since. Sure, you missed your family but you thanked the gods everyday for Lando. However, you didn’t know the whole truth about that night, did you?

Themes: dark!lando, explicit language, smut, fluff, mentions of death, loss, and violence, possessive!lando

“Baby?” He called out, “I’m home.”

His voice echoed in the foyer.

The house was so spacious that often you couldn’t hear him when he called out for you, and he knew that. That’s why instead of calling out again, he followed the sweet smelling scent and the soft music instead. Both came from the kitchen; the smell of warm muffins and a soft woman’s voice singing about chemtrails over a country club.

Lando leaned against a wall quietly for a minute, smiling to himself as he watched you moving around in the high-ceilinged, farmhouse style kitchen. You didn’t know he was here yet. You were busy mumbling the lyrics of the song while chopping veggies, probably making dinner and baking muffins all at the same time.

Cooking calmed you down, ‘It’s therapeutic’ you once told him. And he’d been married to you for not too long but he knew that this is what you did whenever you had a long day at work. You were a successful gallerist and often you had to deal with snobbish people, or ‘young money kids who had no true appreciation for art’ as you also told him.

He let his eyes take you in. You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, prettier than anything you’d ever exhibited he often told you, but the way you squirmed in embarrassment told him that you didn’t really believe it. That’s fine though, he’d spend a whole lifetime reminding you of that anyway.

Once he was done ogling, that damn pale pink corset top of yours driving him insane as it was, he finally walked up to you and surprised you by wrapping his arms around you from behind. “There you are, baby,” He said, shoving his face into your neck and giving you as many kisses as he could.

You giggled and tried to get away as he attacked your neck with kisses and soft bites but he tightened his grip around you.

“Fuck, you smell so good.” He groaned, voice muffled now that he was nuzzling your neck like he always does. “I missed you so much.”

“Lando,” You laughed, “I’m holding a knife!” You squealed, laughing and still trying to escape his ticklish kisses before any one gets hurt. “Okay you seriously need to shave, that stubble of yours hurts.” You managed to get him to stop. You placed the knife down and turned to face him as you leaned against the counter, caressing his cheeks as you cupped his face in your hands. “Too rough.” You commented, rubbing your fingers across his barely visible, but spiky stubble.

He raised an eyebrow at you, his handsome face lighting up with mischief. “Is it?” He teased, “You weren’t complaining about it being too rough this morning.” He leaned in to whisper into your ear, purposely rubbing his cheek against yours, “Were you, baby?”

Ah. This morning…

You woke up feeling… funny. You opened your eyes and found that your husband wasn’t in his usual spot beside you on the bed. Instead he was busy down there, between your legs. You lifted the soft covers and found him looking up at you with nothing but desire and trouble in his eyes.

You let out a soft moan when he held your stare while kissing your clit, and sucking on it before letting go. “Morning, baby.” He whispered, then got back to eating you out like he was starving.

You threw the covers off and slid your fingers into his hair instead, “Lando…” You whined, the pleasure taking over you. “I’m gonna be late for work.” You mumbled, already feeling yourself getting to the edge. “I have clients waiting for me, you know? I have meetings, and…” You gasped, forgetting what the hell you were talking about in the first place once he began fucking you gently with his tongue.

Damn his tongue and soft lips.

Lando chuckled, a cocky look in his eyes when he pulled away and asked, “Meetings and what, baby?”

“Don’t be a tease,” You groaned, shoving his mouth back to where you wanted him. He chuckled before working his tongue against your wet slit, his fingers slowly sliding in and out of you until you came with a soft cry.

But he wasn’t done yet…

Lando smirked as he looked at you, surely thinking back to this morning as well.

You rolled your eyes at him. “You did get me late for work, you know?” You shook your head, turning back around to focus on the food that you were making. “Then there’s that anonymous collector,” You sighed. Lando wrapped his arms around you from behind again, placing his chin on your shoulder and gently swaying you side to side as you ranted a little bit. “I don’t mind them, whoever they are,” You said, “I do sell them a lot of stuff but why can’t they just show their face? It’s weird, you know, having a client without a face.” You sighed, “And then a really important meeting got cancelled. And one of the artists’ whose work is about to be exhibited soon is being a real brat.”

Lando hummed, occasionally kissing your neck and shoulder as you complained a little more. “I’m sorry you had a tough day, baby.” He mumbled, kissing around your ear, “Want me to handle this collector for you? Or the artist?”

You chuckled, knowing the nature of your husband’s work and his temper, “No. Please don’t.” You added, “I love my work, it’s just a bad day, that’s it.”

“Okay,” He kissed along your exposed shoulder, “Then how about a bath? You want that? Or how about some wine?”

You leaned into touch, “Bath for later,” You said, “The wine for now, please.”

“Yes, my lady,” Lando let go of you with one final kiss on the side of your head.

You watched him as he left the kitchen. He took his suit jacket off and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. Then before he turned to head to the wine cellar, he gave you a wink, acknowledging that he gave you a little strip show. You shook your head at him.

Once alone in the kitchen, you smiled to yourself as you thought about how far you and Lando had come in just a few years.

Your smile faded into a sad one as you thought about the day, or night rather, you first met him.

The sounds of gunshots and screams woke you up. You couldn’t hear anything but the chaos outside your bedroom. Bullets, screams, orders being shouted, furniture being wrecked, glass being broken, more screams… all of it muffled as you ran into your walk-in closet and hid in the dark.

You couldn’t stop the silent tears from streaming down your face. You knew what this meant. It was an ambush. And you also knew that a few hours ago might have been the last time you saw your family. You just hoped they made it out alive. But no one was barging into your room yet… this meant that the fight was happening downstairs.

You cried some more as you heard more yelling, more gunshots.

This life, this family you were born into came with situations like this. Your father told you this since you were a child. He was well-known amongst gang leaders and mob bosses, which meant he had more enemies than friends. Sometimes those two were the same people. But your father had kept you hidden for most of your life, away from all this.

The only reason you were even home tonight was because it was your birthday. You’d begged your father to let you celebrate it at home with everyone…

You didn’t remember passing out in that closet. You didn’t know what happened or how you were found, just that you were. And when you woke up, you were face to face with a handsome young man with pretty eyes who reassured you that you were safe.

He said he and his family were friends of your father’s. And that he was sorry but you were the only survivor of that attack. Your family was gone, your house was gone. All was gone.

The year which followed was the hardest of your life. Grieving, dealing with so many losses, moving on with a heavy heart, getting the help you needed, finally learning how to stand on your own feet again… you couldn’t have done it without Lando.

He was your rock. Always there when you needed to cry, to share a laugh, to make silly jokes, on days when you wanted to spend hours in bed, on nights when you had nightmares, on days when you felt light and happy, on days when your heart broke all over again, on days when it felt like you were finally healing, he was always there.

He was a busy man, but he made time for you.

Falling in love with him was easy. The easiest thing you’d ever done. So when time came, and he got on one knee and asked you to marry him, saying yes was the easiest thing you’d ever done. You knew you were both young, but he was it for you.

Becoming his wife felt like a dream. Like you were a real princess marrying her knight in shining armour, the one who saved her from every bad thing and promised to protect her fiercely forever. Except your knight wasn’t altruistic, he didn’t come on a white horse and with a sword. Yours was dangerous, tainted and flawed. He came with power, money, guns, and expensive cars.

“It better be thoughts of me that you’re lost in and not that anonymous collector,” His voice brought you back to the present. “Otherwise I might have to hunt them down and make them disappear forever.” Lando joked as he handed you a glass of your favourite red.

You leaned against the counter, facing him as you took a long sip. Then you said, “I was thinking about you actually.”

That cheered him up immediately. “Yeah? Do tell then.”

You smiled faintly. “Just thinking about how lucky I am that I have you.” You avoided his eyes after. You always did whenever you felt slightly emotional. You always tried to seem stronger than you felt in the moment.

Lando placed his glass down and came over to wrap you in his arms immediately. Somehow, he always knew when you needed a hug. You wrapped your arms around him and let out a sigh, your heart already feeling lighter just by being in his arms.

“I’ve got you, baby. Don’t worry.” Lando said softly, his familiar scent already making you feel better. “You’re safe here, with me.” He reassured you. Lando knew you still had a fear somewhere, about being attacked like that night. But he often also reminded you that he was the most powerful man in this city, and no harm was coming your way as long as he lived.

He often wondered whether you realised how lucky he felt that you were his. That night, when he found you passed out on the floor in the walk-in closet, something in him shifted. He knew he had to keep you safe, always.

“Thank you,” You murmured against his white shirt.

Lando pulled away to look down into your eyes. Fuck, he hated it when you cried. It felt like he was being torn apart. He quickly wiped that one tear which barely escaped your eyes and said, “You never have to thank me for taking care of you.” He said with a slight frown.

“I know,” You whispered and pulled him in for a kiss. A slow, gentle kiss that quickly turned into a heated, passionate one. His hands grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into him, so you could feel the very prominent bulge in his pants.

It made you whimper just feeling it. “Fuck,” You mumbled against his lips, “Will I ever stop wanting you like this?” Your shaky hands reached down to undo his belt, then just as you reached for his zipper, your stomach grumbled so loudly you were sure all the guards outside could hear it too.

You both froze at the sound of it, then burst out laughing. Lando threw his head back and laughed so carefreely that you fell a little bit more in love with him at that moment. You didn’t think that was possible, but here you were.

“I would love to bend you over the counter right here baby,” He chuckled, “but I feel like we need to get some food in you.” He said, kissing your cheek and pulling away to look at you as you tried to hide your face in embarrassment. “Hey, look at me.” He grabbed you by the chin and lifted your head up. “Let’s eat, and I’ll fuck you later. Okay? I promise.”

You gave him a shy smile, “Okay.”

—

After a light dinner filled with more laughter and easy conversations, Lando helped you with storing away the cooled off muffins before the two of you finally got into that bath, with another bottle of wine.

You carefully poured some more wine into your glass before leaning back into Lando’s chest. You sighed again, settling against him. This was your happy place. Scented candles, dimmed lights, warm bath, wine, and of course, the love of your life.

But then as always, Lando could never keep his hands to himself. It always starts out with innocent touches, along your arm, kissed on your shoulders… then he gets more and more demanding. His fingers caressed your inner thighs until you were squirming against him, his kisses turned into playful bites making you whine and whimper.

“You never behave.” You mumbled teasingly, closing your eyes and letting him caress and touch you however he wanted.

“How can I?” He whispered against your neck, “You’re too beautiful to resist.”

You let out a soft moan when his finger carefully slid inside you. You whispered, breathlessly, “Remember we flooded the bathroom the last time?”

Lando groaned, pulling his hand away. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave.” He let out a sigh as though you’d asked him to give up breathing.

You chuckled at his dramatics.

The two of you ended up staying, soaking until the water got cold. Then went about your respective night time routines before finally getting in bed. Right as you lifted the covers up to get in, Lando grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him.

“Ah! Don’t even think about it. We both know you’re gonna start snoring the moment your head hits those pillows.” He pushed you down on top of the covers and tickled you until you were breathless, your satin robe coming undone in the process and exposing your naked body underneath. “Plus, I promised you something before your belly began braying, didn’t I?”

You shoved him playfully, arguing, “It didn’t bray!”

Lando pinned your wrists above your head and leaned in for a quick kiss. “Pretty sure the guards will ask me if we brought in a pet donkey tomorrow morning.”

“Lando!” You laughed, trying to get out of his grasp but he was stronger than he looked.

He ended up shutting you up with a kiss, his bare chest pressing down against yours. His skin was damp, the chains around his neck were cold, he smelled incredible. He was all you wanted. So you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer.

He moaned into the kiss when you arched your back, pressing up against him. When he pulled away to look down at you, his stare was fiery, his pretty eyes filled with lust.

“I love you, you know that right?” He asked. You noticed he often did.

You nodded quickly. “I know.” You smiled up at him, “And I love you.”

He smiled before leaning in for a quick kiss before his mouth slowly moved down your body. Kissing along your neck, biting your breasts, kissing down your stomach, your hips, your thighs.

You lifted your upper body up onto your elbows and met his intense stare. His pretty eyes really were your weakness. Your safe place. Your comfort. Perhaps because when you woke up after that traumatic night years ago, those eyes were the first thing you saw. They’d been your favourite thing since.

Lando held your stare as he spread your legs further apart, settling in between them.

He pressed his lips to your inner thigh, his mouth getting closer and closer to your core, you tipped your head back, sighing quietly as you felt his breath against you. You couldn’t help but slide your fingers into his soft, slightly damp hair.

“You’re all mine.” He whispered, his tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. His shoulders parted your legs further apart as he leaned closer. He slowly brought a finger up to your clit, sliding it agonisingly slowly down your slit, parting your wet folds again.

You trembled under his touch. “All yours,” You sighed in bliss as he slid a finger inside you, stroking your walls gently while he placed his mouth back on your clit.

“Does my face feel too rough now, baby?” He asked. And chuckled proudly when you were only able to moan in response.

“No…” You gasped, breathless and wanting more even as he teased your clit and finger-fucked you gently. That damn stubble of his rubbed against your poor inner thighs over and over again but you moaned in pleasure despite it all.

You squirmed and moaned and gasped under his perfect touch. He knew you and your body too well by now, and soon, you were coming undone all over his tongue, your walls clenching violently around his finger. Your fingers scratched his scalp as you tugged harder on his hair as you came.

You were still catching your breath as Lando left small kisses up your body before he hovered above you again, staring deep into your eyes.

“Please…” You begged, wrapping your legs around his waist again. “I need you in me.”

Lando gave you a cocky smile before kissing you once again, the taste of you on his tongue still. You didn’t mind the roughness of his stubble this time, but you growled into the kiss because you were impatient and all he did was kiss you over and over again.

“Impatient, are we?” Lando chuckled at your little growl, not breaking the kiss as he slowly slipped inside of you, groaning into the kiss as he went.

You gasped as he filled you up, all of him stretching you out and fitting nicely inside you. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as he moved his hips the slightest bit, making you whine at the feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good…” He groaned, his grip on your body tightens, possibly leaving bruises on your hips and thighs but you didn’t care.

You would never get bored of this you realised. Of him, his touch, his warmth, his kisses… you were so glad he was yours.

You could feel your walls clenching around him as he sped up and pounded into you, to a point where the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of him moving against your body. Nothing else in the world mattered. Your long day at work was forgotten, nothing else existed. Just you and him.

“So fucking good…” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he bent down to bite your lower lip.

You moaned at how perfect his lean and muscular body felt against yours. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. His thrusts were relentless and unbearably good. You closed your eyes as you felt the pressure around your lower body; tight and hot.

Lando smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “Look at you, baby,” He whispered, “It’s like you were made just for me.” The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again.

You were unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. The familiar pressure formed at your core and you whined again when his fingers found your clit while he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Come for me…” he whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him again. Whimpering and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock.

He kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze. He watched you in awe, lips parted, breaths in rags, heart racing.

He almost came as well. But then he slowed down, pulled out and stopped for a moment. He caught his breath, and held back from coming no matter how much he wanted to. He needed to make you come again, he needed to hear you moan for him again.

“Turn around for me, baby,” He spoke, caressing your thigh as you struggled to sit up. “Come on,” He urged, “Face down, ass up. Come on, baby.”

You did as he asked, your hips and ass up while your face was pressed against the bed. You were still catching your breath when his hand reached around and touched you in between your legs, his fingers rubbed around your clit and made you tremble and moan given how sensitive you were.

His body bent over yours, his warm, damp chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder and the back of your neck until his mouth reached your ear, “I know you’re tired, my love,” He whispered, kissing the side of your face while you caught your breath, “But I need you to come for me again. Can you do that for me, baby?”

You nodded slowly. Lando hummed in satisfaction as he kissed along your shoulder before gripping each side of your hips, and pushing into you from behind.

Your body was sensitive from earlier, so you whined and whimpered as he filled you up again. Your fingers gripped the covers beneath you tightly, and your mind was foggy, everything was floaty as he pounded into you.

You reached your high quicker this time, moaning his name and coming undone just a couple of minutes later.

You felt his thrusts becoming irregular, faster, his cock throb against your walls violently. He groaned and growled as he came, his body wrapping around you from behind. You both fell on your sides, catching your breaths and calming your hearts down.

“You okay, pretty girl?” He asked, spooning you from behind.

You could only nod as he kissed you on the back of your neck.

“You did so good for me, baby.” He murmured, “Now let’s get in bed, yeah?”

You were pretty much limp after that. So Lando cleaned you up, then himself and then got the bed ready while you just laid there with a smile on your face watching him. He ended up having to tuck you in as well, since you refused to move.

Lando playfully groaned, “I spoil you too much.” He said, getting on his side of the bed before pulling you close to cuddle under the covers. “People warned me against spoiling my wife too much.”

You were already half asleep at this point. Damn it, he was right about you falling asleep the moment your head hits the pillows. But still you murmured, more like slurred, “Didn’t they also tell you to shave else your wife will have burns on her inner thighs?”

Lando chuckled, rubbing his cheek against yours purposely again, “Okay fine, I’ll shave tomorrow. Happy?”

“Hmm,” You mumbled, already drifting off to sleep. Safe in his arms as you’ll always be. “You better,” Lando chuckled at how you desperately tried to stay awake. “Otherwise I’m gonna run away.”

With that you were gone. Your breathing changed so Lando knew you were surely asleep. Soon you’ll start snoring softly. He leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“Silly baby,” He whispered as he adjusted the covers so you were properly warm. “You can’t run away from me,” He whispered against your forehead as he cuddled you, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “There’s a tracking implant in your arm.”

Then he let out a soft chuckle. “Of course, you don’t know that, do you?” He cooed, “Hmm, baby?” He kissed your forehead again. “There’s so much you don’t know.” He caressed your cheek as you began snoring softly just as he expected.

He had always found it adorable. He continued whispering to you, knowing you couldn’t hear him. “There’s so much I have to keep from you. I hate lying to you, but it’s for your own good, baby.”

He kept caressing your face as he spoke to himself, “Like how you mistook me for your saviour that night.” He sighed then admitted, “I was the one who attacked your father’s house. I was the rival. Then I had my men search the house after everyone was dead, and they found you unconscious and brought you to me.” He let out another sigh, pulling you closer. “You were so beautiful, baby. Even with dried up tears on your face. You were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. And I vowed to never make you cry after that night. It was the last time, I promise.”

He paused. Then continued, “Your dad was such a pain in my ass, baby. I’m sorry I killed him. I’m sorry I killed all of them. I’m sorry I never told you the truth. How could I? You would hate me forever.” He placed a kiss on your nose, “But look,” He murmured, “All that shit brought you to me. And aren’t we happy together?”

He let out another chuckle and said, “Wanna know another secret, pretty girl? I’m your anonymous collector. I have a warehouse full of the pieces you exhibit.” He confessed in the darkness and the silence. “I mean, what kind of a husband would I be if I don’t support my wife’s career, huh? Everything I do is to make you happy.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead again. “I love you so much, baby. It drives me insane.” Then he chuckled and added as an inside joke to himself, “Or maybe it did drive me insane already.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #mob!lando #mob!au

2K notes · View notes

mobday · 1 year

Text

this episode was Off idk if it was intentional but good job 👍

#s3e4 #the animation/style has been a little inconsistent all season #im not saying s1 or s2 werent inconsistent... but idk it gave me like‚ standard anime feels (not the animation but the framing ig)#su level of off model 🫣#the heights change reigens face is always weird... he looks like hes not from mp100😭#some scenes hes shorter and some hes ikemen level tall😭#i miss the thicker slightly green(??) lines in s1 #theres a screencap of mob having bigger pupils (+ reigen) & idk it looked weird😭#some scenes were animated fluidly but like... for no reason‚‚‚ love u tome #the story moved so fast maybe it's bc i havent read the manga in a long time #& maybe also bc i was reading it per week when a new chapter was released #but hm... is the pacing weird....? i feel like this arc will only last 3-4 eps #i feel like i'll just put bad vibes on the tag if i tag this one this is just my thoughts Ok & i like to complain #i did like it!!!!! my sister whos an anime only got creeped out so they did do a good job with the Off feel of the episode

0 notes

faeriekit · 9 months

Note

I feel like you’ll appreciate this flavor of feral brain rot as a true delicacy.

Ghostly Courting 101

1.) When you have someone you like, you politely sneak into their haunt and leave a gift that hints at your identity. If they’re interested, they’ll start hunting for you. If not, it’ll be removed without the other party feeling any societal pressure.

2.) For ghosts who died a violent or wrongful death, one of the most meaningful things you can do is avenge them. Attack their murderer, haunt their negligent doctor, etc. It’s not guaranteed to win their affection, but it’s a hell of a display.

Now, per the laws of unintended consequences, Danny finds Red Hood rearranging his freezer.

It’s 3:00 AM. He just wanted some water. Why is Gotham’s favorite son trying to leave him a fuck off huge casserole?

“Are you trying to propose or something?” Danny asks the liminal.

“Maybe???”

“Ghost weird or fruitloop weird?” Danny snatches his boo-berry ice cream and starts digging for a spoon.

Red Hood takes off his helmet to make sure Danny can see the Eyebrow of Judgment.

“Fruitloop then,” he says between bites. “We haven’t even sparred, and I sure as shit didn’t avenge you or anything.”

Oh. Oh no.

“Hood, why are you blushing?”

He couldn’t make out much from the outraged sputtering, but Danny nearly shat his fucking core out when it clicked.

“Is this about Joker???”

Danny was gonna take the stuttering as a yes.

Cool, cool, cool. He was calm. He was so fucking normal, it was fine, it was fine, it was—

Ancients take him, Danny beat the shit out of this guy’s murderer or something. He basically did a fucking flash mob proposal!

“Why the fuck am I even here?!” Red Hood screamed.

And the other guy’s fucking clueless!

I see, I see.

1: Which casserole. This is important. What casserole could the hindbrain of Jason Peter Todd's ghost instincts think is marriage material?? Is this like a comfort food can-of-cream-of-mushroom based casserole dish or like one of those newfangled sushi bake type things?? What did Jason whip out to prove he's marriage material??

2: What does JASON think is going on?? Did he hunt Danny down?? Did he just wake up in a stranger's apartment with a casserole in his hand?? Did he go to the grocery store with a list in mind or did he get home and realize he (for some reason) had every ingredient to make tuna casserole??

3: Wait. So does this mean that Jason thinks that casseroles are a good enough hint at his identity??? Does some part of Jason think that his most essential and core part of his identity is his tendency towards caretaking?? YO—

4: It's in a vintage pyrex. Look me in the eyes. This is not just Pyrex it's gotta be the old style pyrex that doesn't shatter in the oven without a pan underneath it. I am a connoisseur of white people culture and this is deeply important to me. It could even be one of the patterned ones. This is part of the gesture.

5: Danny is emotionally moved and it sucks considering that this was a complete accident

6: Jason is emotionally moved and has no idea what the fuck is going on. He wakes up at his safehouse one morning with bridal magazines in his hands which he apparently bought himself?? He's going insane. Is he cursed?? Did that twink who kicked the Joker's ass curse him??????? Curse him into...matrimony???????????????????

#dp x dc #death something. what's their ship name.#double death(tm)#dpxdc #dcu crossover #faer winds #the white people culture is intricate i just know it 😭#dcxdp #dead on main

3K notes · View notes

harleehazbinfics · 28 days

Note

since i loved that catalastor drabble so much i thought why not duplicates of catalastors 😂😂 cannibal!Y/N kept it a secret and suddenly the hotel is overflowed with catalastor to the point alastor just grabs y/n (bridal style) to somehwere private or somewhere 😂 just a random thought because i love catalastor so much

More Fucking Cats

Cannibal chef! reader m.list | Author profile

"mew"

"What was that sound?" Alastor asks shifting his gaze from his newspaper to you who suspiciously had your back on the closet.

"N-nothing!" you nervously replied trying to set a smile on your face.

He cranes his head disliking how you lied to him. Your sweat drips down your back as he walks forward towards you making your heart squeeze both in guilt and lovesick. You point your gaze at his hooves with a pout.

"(y/n), move."

You hesitantly move from the closet door and hide behind him. Trying tug him gently away from the door to save yourselves from the chaos that will ensue.

When Alastor opens the door, his eyes meet a pair of red beady ones. With a single blink, multiple pairs of red eyes appear, making you gulp and tug at Alastor's coat harder. He immediately catches you in his arms as he disappears onto his shadow and outside the hotel.

"What the fuck is--"

"WHAT THE HELL?"

"KITTIES!"

"THERE'S SO MANY CATS!"

"(Y/N)!!!"

Both you and Alastor reappear at his studio where you were safe from the mob of angry cats and/or Vaggie. You gave Alastor a guilty smile trying to gain some sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Sir," you apologize while pouting.

He sighs and holds you tighter while he had you in a bridal style hold.

"I'd appreciate if you didn't lie to me," he says bumping heads with you.

Lovestruck from the affectionate action, you held back your squeal and nodded your head, unsure if you could lower your voice if you opened your mouth.

🔗TAGLIST:

@bonnie-02, @marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich, @rybunnie, @kimmis-stuff, @lucifers-silhouette, @kimmis-stuff, @bontensbabygirl, @janey, @akiqvq, @wonderlandangelsposts, @azullynxx

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #alastor x reader #hazbin vaggie #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #cursed cat alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #radio demon #cannibal chef reader #cannibal reader #harleehazbinfic

542 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 2 months

Note

Any chance we can see Winter and Kisa? 🥺

I owe them a proper one-shot, nonnie, but I may have a little something to hold you over.

Almost Like Home

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky told you his place would be your home one day. You see it firsthand with his closet.

Word Count: Over 1.6k

Warnings: Tension, longing, pet names, possessive behavior, slight obsessive behavior, conflicted reader, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Winter and Kisa. That okay, lovelies? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo . Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Arguing with Bucky to let you go back to your place was pointless today and you were too exhausted to try. Being sleepy was how you justified following him to his bedroom, your footsteps gently echoing in the hall. You took in your surroundings and tried to reason that it was out of curiosity and to stay alert, not because this would be your home one day. Even if he said it would be.

You’d take a quick nap and be on your way, right?

“You sure I can't carry you in?” Bucky offered as he stopped in front of the door at the end of the hall, sneaking a glance at you over your shoulder.

He trusted you enough to have his back to you.

“Don’t you dare,” you said without a hint of malice, biting your lip when he smiled and opened the door to let you go in.

“Worth a shot.”

The rays from the sunset seeped in through the window curtain before Bucky turned the light on. The bedroom was beautiful, as expected, with a king-sized bed, a chair near the balcony, and a fireplace. You imagined him sitting and reading after a long day. But the vanity didn't appear to be his style at all.

It looked like something that belonged in your room.

Bucky didn't attempt to move toward you as you met his all-consuming gaze, which somehow made the tension grow. It would’ve been easy to drag him to his bed or let him shove you down and make you his the way he claimed you were. But one taste wouldn't be enough for either of you.

“As much as I'd love to see you in my clothes,” he said to break the silence, gesturing to a door along the wall. “You might find something more to your liking in there on the right side.”

“I can't sleep in this?”

He dragged his lip along his teeth and shook his head. “The bastard who hit you may not have touched your clothes, but I’d sooner burn them before they touch my bed.”

“Possessive bastard,” you muttered, part of you liking it.

His watchful eyes followed as you crossed the room and opened the door, your mouth falling open as you looked around. The closet was larger than your apartment living room. To the left were suits, shoes, watches, and more that clearly belonged to the mobster. But to the right…

Your heart raced as you walked over and pushed through the clothes, something heavy settling in your stomach when you realized they were all your size. Not only that, they were designs and styles you wore and liked. Many of which you'd never be able to afford, let alone have the pleasure of feeling the fabric under your fingertips. You had long accepted that working for a living would never give you a life of luxury.

There weren't many times in life where you had the rug pulled out from under you, but this was something else entirely.

“What is this?” You whispered, turning toward Bucky as he strode through the door.

“Your closet. Well, our closet. You like it?” He answered, pride in his eyes as he glanced at your side. “I figured you could look at some of the shoes and jewelry after you get some rest. And you’ll love the lingerie almost as much as I will.”

You took a deep breath. And another. It did little to calm you down. “Bucky. I am not your girlfriend and I sure as hell don't live here, so why do you have half of your closet set aside for me?” You demanded.

Bucky lifted a shoulder, unbothered by the fury and touch of sadness that simmered in your eyes. “Girlfriend isn't really a title I want you to have. Wife and my queen, yes. Those will do. And you will live here, so I had to make sure you have clothes,” he said as his eyes bore into yours. “Though I don't mind if you'd rather walk around without wearing anything.”

Your face heated up as he stepped toward you and you wished you could ignore the throbbing between your legs. “You're delusional,” you stated.

He chuckled low, the sound sending more heat through your traitorous body. “No, Kisa. Not delusional. Prepared and excited, but not delusional.”

You scoffed, trying to cover up your arousal. Why did he put more into obtaining you than any other guy who crossed your path before? “Whatever you need to tell yourself to get to sleep at night, Winter.”

“I'll sleep much better when you're beside me.”

The softness in his voice surprised you, like you sleeping beside him would bring him some sort of comfort as well as satisfaction. “You say that like it's a sure thing.”

Your stomach twisted in knots as he smirked, all confidence and swagger. “Oh, you and I both know I always end up getting what I want.”

But what if he stopped wanting you one day?

Your back was against the wall, nowhere to go as he took another step forward. “You can't have me.”

The words sounded empty and you both knew it. “And why is that?” He asked.

“Because I can't let you have me,” you answered, pausing as your gaze shifted away from him. You almost regretted the next words that slipped out of your mouth. “You cloud my judgment.”

The admission didn't lift the weight from your chest because it didn't change anything. At the end of the day, Bucky would continue to do terrible things and you wouldn't bring him to justice. You couldn't bring yourself to do so. Yet you brought others in.

How many times could you justify letting Bucky roam free because he had a heart beneath the surface?

You willed your knees to keep you upright when he rolled his sleeves up more and smugly smiled. “Is that so? Hmm, I like the idea that you can't think straight around me.”

You held up a hand when he moved closer, as if it would stop him. “Don't let it go to your head. My job comes first. You know that.”

He grasped your wrist and brought it to his mouth, his lips barely grazing your skin. The spark between you continued to ignite when his tongue darted out. “Well, if I had it my way you'd come first every single time.”

The breath left your lungs in a rush. “Bucky, please,” you whispered, hating how weak you sounded when his scruff touched your skin.

He hummed as he pressed his lips against your pulse. “That's one of the things I imagine you saying before you come.”

You didn't rip your hand away, enjoying the attention far more than you should have. “You're being ridiculous. You know we can't do this.”

“No, I don't know that. Though you keep saying we shouldn't,” he said, taking your hand and placing it over your head against the wall. His grip didn't hurt. You almost wished it did so you'd have more of a reason to fight. “Maybe you're the delusional one.”

“Maybe I am a little,” you said, tears pricking your eyes. “Because I've crossed the line enough by not bringing you in.”

Maybe your hands weren't as dirty as his, but they sure as hell weren't clean.

A sympathetic smile tugged at his lips. “Because you want me and want to be with me.”

His eyes traced along your face as your breathing got heavier. You didn't object or deny him. Doing so would be a lie and wasn't life clouded enough with too many of those? But to speak the truth would be to lose a part of yourself.

“It doesn't matter. When the chase ends, you’ll stop wanting me,” you said, his brows furrowing when your voice cracked.

Because the game would be over and why would he want to play again? How much of you would he take with him? What would be left in the wake of his victory?

His fingertips ran along your sore cheek and brushed away a tear that fell. “The chase will end because you’ll be by my side, but it doesn't stop there. I’m still going to court you and show you every day why I’m nothing without you.”

Tilting your head, he placed a tender kiss on your cheek. The same way he had in his den. Would it be so wrong to let him seduce you further? “But you have the world,” you whispered.

“You are my world,” he whispered back before he pulled away and released your hand, your body suddenly cold. Your breaths felt shallow as he ran a hand through his hair and he still hadn’t kissed your lips. He looked like he was restraining himself as well. “Those aren't just pretty words. I’ll do whatever it takes to show you, Kisa. Starting with the man who hurt you.”

The resolve in his eyes before he turned and walked away tugged at your heartstrings. “Don’t kill him. Please.”

He stopped in the doorway with a sigh, but didn't face you. “I told you I can't let it go,” he said, grunting as he flexed his fingers. “But I'll try not to kill him.”

You couldn't ask for more than that. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said sincerely, pushing yourself away from the wall. “But you really don't have to do anything to him in order to prove something to me.”

His blue eyes lit up with purpose when he looked back at you. “No one hurts someone I love and gets away with it,” he said, leaving you all alone with your thoughts.

Because what were you really afraid of?

That Bucky Barnes loved you or that you maybe loved him, too?

UGH. I love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

705 notes · View notes

woso-dreamzzz · 28 days

Text

Promise

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Magda takes Pernille to dinner

The restaurant is fancier than the restaurants that Momma and Morsa usually take you to.

Evidently, Momma thinks so too because she holds your hand a little tighter and pulls you in front of her.

"Magda," Momma says," Are you sure this is the right place?" She looks down meaningfully at you.

The usual restaurants you go to aren't fancy like this. They're homey places, much more likely to be family-run for years rather than being awarded Michelin stars.

"Yep," Magda says as the host takes them towards a private booth at the back.

You're big enough now that you don't need to sit in a high chair anymore but Magda and Pernille still box you between them in the booth, sitting so you're in the middle and they're facing each other.

"This is expensive, Magda," Pernille warns.

"We can afford it."

"I know but, still."

"It'll be fine," Magda assures her," I promise."

This whole trip was out of the blue.

They had just come home from training when Magda sent Pernille off to the bedroom to change into something fancier than the usual tracksuit bottoms and old shirt she usually wore post training.

There was already something laid out on the bed and, by the time Pernille was finished, you and Magda had also changed. Tomorrow was a day off so it wasn't out of the ordinary for you all to go out the night before but not in fancy clothes and not to this fancy restaurant that looks like a little girl like you shouldn't be in it.

"Is there a kid's menu?" Pernille asks.

You frown. "I want a big girl meal."

Magda laughs, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. "I've ordered ahead for her."

Pernille raises a brow. "How did you even get a reservation for this place?"

"Millie knows a guy."

"You make it sound like she's in the mob."

"She could be."

"What's the mob?" You ask.

"Nothing, princesse," Magda laughs," Here. The nice host lady brought you some paper and crayons."

You grab the crayons quickly, scrawling over the paper with reckless abandon.

"I'm serious, Magda. What's going on?"

"Can't I take my girls out for a special evening?"

"You can," Pernille says, eyes narrowed in suspicion," But at a place like this? You're up to something."

Despite her suspicions, Pernille does end up having a nice time. The food is good, the wine is great. The company is, obviously, even better.

You seem to be having fun too, going through all of the crayons as you draw a picture of the three of you standing under a rainbow together.

The dress you're wearing, now that Pernille inspects it, is a perfect match to her own, right down to how it's styled on your body. Both of them compliment the ensemble that Magda's wearing, Pernille notices as Magda rises from her seat to take you to the bathroom.

You look like a perfect pair.

Pernille can see a lot of Magda in you, all the way down to the way you walk. You've got Magda in your face and your smile and the way you giggle hysterically when Pernille tickles your tummy.

You return after a few minutes without Magda, reaching out for Pernille's hand with the same secret smile on your face that Magda has when she's about to do something surprising.

"Where's your Morsa?" Pernille teases, allowing you to pull her up.

"She's outside," You say," She paid earlier. Come on, Momma!" You pull at her insistently. Clearly, Pernille isn't moving fast enough.

You pull her out of the restaurant and across the road to the play park.

Magda's waiting by the gate and you stop in front of her. You turn to look at Pernille.

You smile at her, the exact same as Magda's smile, before squeezing her as tight as you can.

Magda picks you up and you cover something with your hands.

"What have you two planned?" Pernille teases, her own smile ghosting her lips.

"Pernille," Magda says," I love you."

"I love you too."

"I understand that this moving in together thing is still new-"

"We've been moved in for a year?"

"I have a speech," Magda laughs," Can you let me get through it?"

Pernille laughs too. "Alright. I suppose so."

Magda clears her throat. "As I was saying...I understand that this moving in together thing is still new and I know that there's going to be a few hiccups along the way but I love you and I love Princesse and I love this little family we've made. I know we want a future together. Honestly...I...This came out of nowhere and I know we're still in the height of our careers but..."

She nudges you.

"Please agree to be engaged to be engaged to Morsa!" You say, holding out the little ring you've been hiding in your hands.

It's a fairly simple ring, clearly not a proper engagement ring but it's still beautiful. Pernille takes it from your hands, slipping it onto her finger.

"Yes," She says," I will be engaged to be engaged to your Morsa."

You cheer, a beautiful round of bubbly giggles spilling from your throat as Momma pulls Morsa into a kiss.

Morsa's cheeks are all pink when she pulls away and she's got one of those silly star struck smiles on her face that she gets when Momma is around her.

"Can we get ice cream now?" You ask and they both laugh.

"Yes, Princesse," Morsa says," Let's get ice cream."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

473 notes · View notes

unholyhelbig · 4 months

Note

part 4 mob boss mommy *i mean natty oops*

Title: The Oversight [Part 4/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 4325

Warnings: Gun imagery, heights, unecessary tension, horrible grammar, and funnel cake

[A/n: Heads up, I wrote this while I had the flu & a pretty bad fever, so it's not my greatest work. Thank you all for the postive feedback!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

“Hit me.” Natasha’s words were growled, a low rumble compared to the warm spring breeze that produced nothing but a balmy environment. Sweat glossed her collarbone, moved against expanses of skin that you had let yourself imagine, but had never seen. She was a distraction, despite being your instructor.

Her wrapped fist made contact with your jaw, a metallic taste coating your tongue. You let out a grunt of protest, fingers quickly working against the area to ease the throbbing pain. “That wasn’t fair,”

“You think they’re going to play fair? Focus up. Hit me.”

There was something about being this close to Natasha that formed a pit in your stomach. You were meant to have skin on skin contact, though most of your mornings for the past two weeks had been spent at the gun range, she had deemed you ready enough to learn how to fight. It was an art, you figured, not just something you could blindly go into.

For the first fifteen minutes of your day, you had watched Natasha and Kate spar. Yelena was standing next to you, a borderline predatory gaze on her face. You’d realized that it was one of the only emotions she harbored, and that Clint was rightful in his fear. Still, her attention was not focused on you, and that was good enough for the time being.

Instead, it was homed in on Kate. “I have been teaching her for nearly a year now.”

“She’s good.”

“You do not have to lie, y/n. She’s sloppy, reckless. Look how calculated Natalia is.”

Those emerald eyes were tracking every move the taller girl made. She’d initiated contact with Kate’s ribs, with her knees, and her shoulders. She’d fallen to the grass more times than you could count, but she still got up. That’s what seemed to count around here. Even as green a brown stained her workout gear, and as purple blotches of dead blood rose to the surface of her skin.

“It pays to learn fighting styles. That is something the Danver’s family does not understand. They hire whoever they can. Bodies over skill, it can work in some situations, but not all.”

“When did this… war start?”

“Mm, the power struggle has been raging for decades. Our parents, and their parents, and their parents before them. Both of us were trained to take over the family business. Men, they fight with their hearts and not their heads. When Carol and Natalia took up the mantel, things only got worse.”

You felt silly, growing up on these city blocks, and not realizing that a fight bigger than yourself was raging just within the shadows. You supposed that was a good thing. If you knew, you’d have taken Ronnie out of here in a second.

Kate hit the ground for a fourth time, the air knocked out of her lungs. She still had enough left to groan and prop herself up on her elbows. Natasha chuckled, the sound bubbling past her lips. This was much too fun for her.

“She is fragile.” Yelena nudged you with her arm. You frowned. Kate accepted the outstretched hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. She looked dazed. “Do not tell her I said so, but she was looking for a project. You have to give it your all. For both of your sakes.”

You drew in a breath to respond, but Yelena clapped a hand on your back before taking a step toward the dueling duo. “Alright Nat! I think you’ve tortured Kate Bishop enough. Do not break her.”

Kate was bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet, her fists raised in a defensive position. Her lip was split, rusty crimson against the corner of her mouth. “I can do this all day.”

“You do not have to.” Yelena’s nose scrunched up “You stink. Go take a shower.”

The blonde shoved Kate playfully towards the house, trailing behind her and murmuring things in Russian. She’d left you alone with Natasha, something you had become quite accustomed to. In your workout gear, you felt more than a little exposed, her stare raking up and down your form before her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink than they already were.

The two of you had sat on the lawn chairs as she wrapped your knuckles, had you punch the palm of her hand to see how much blowback it would cause. You were holding back, and you both knew it. Her last command had been non-negotiable.

When you swung your right hand towards her jaw, Natasha wrapped her fingers around your wrist. She had flipped you onto the ground with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. You’d flailed in panic instead of going limp like Kate had.

You’d dragged Natasha down on top of you. Her body weight was warm from the beating sun, her elbows on either side of your head. Natasha’s knee was between yours, pressing into your core. You let out a small gasp at the sensation, pulling in her musky scent of sweat and clove.

Stray strands of russet hair framed Natasha’s face as she peered down at you, her chest heaving, each breath pushing her closer to you. Her nose was brushed against yours. The two of you were impossibly close, soul-crushingly so. You were certain that she could feel your heartbeat through your shirt.

She made a quite noise “Pet, if you wanted to get me on top of you, all you had to do was ask.”

Your gaze had given you away, and Natasha suddenly had a shit-eating grin against her lips. You hooked your legs against hers an arm wrapping around her waist. In a smooth move, you had her flipped against the grass, eyes reflecting the blue of the cloudless sky. She nearly seemed impressed, and you preened at the stare.

That was before her knee came up and knocked the wind out of you for the second time. You grunted, rolling off her. The two of you stared up at the sky for a few moments before she hoisted herself up and offered you a hand. You batted it away out of habit, rising on your own.

“When you fall, you fall with grace.” Natasha said, her voice stoney, right back to her serious self. “That way you don’t end up like we just were.”

“And if they ask?” you lifted an eyebrow at her, a hint of malice in her voice. She took a step closer to you, and that ever-intoxicating scent filled your lungs once more. Your ribs still ached from her kick, fingers massaging the sore spot. However, all of your movement halted.

Her voice was murmured and rusty. “I don’t want anyone else on top of you.”

“Okay,” You whispered, throat suddenly tight. “Then show me how.”

Veronica had the excited reflection of light in her eyes. They scanned the traveling fair that had been set up in the park bordering the harbor and a square city block. Each year, tents with local vendors would go up, rides and carnival games in their stead.

The scent of kettle corn filled your lungs, a mix of sweet and salty that reminded you of your own childhood spent here. It was the one constant that every foster family took part in. Sometimes you’d be given a stack of tickets, others, you’d get enough for a large cup of the best lemonade you had ever tasted.

Her hand tightened around yours, squeezing in excitement. Despite your current situation, you couldn’t help but smile. The soft sound of music and the light breeze was enough to make your forget about your aching muscles, and the light sweater that you had thrown on to hide the bruising against your shoulders, your arms, and collarbone. Natasha had really done a number on you.

“Jimmy is a nice guy, he really is, but the whole magic thing is driving me nuts.” Darcy used her forefingers to pinch off a bit of blue cotton candy, shoving it into her mouth. She talked around the melting sugar. “Seriously, he spilled my coffee all over my lap attempting a card trick and then attempted to mop it up with a never-ending handkerchief.”

You snickered at that, earning a look cut from glass. “What? I’m sorry about your drycleaning, but it is kind of funny.”

“Yeah, whatever. I just have to grow a backbone. He doesn’t try to pull that shit with Monica. No one tries to pull that shit with her.” She knelt in front of Ronnie, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “You’re not going to tolerate stupid magic tricks, are you?”

She was met with a silent, but amused stare, her eyebrow lifted. You’d been leveled with that look more than once yourself. It dissolved you into more laughter. “Alright, alright. No magic for the kid. Does the Ferris Wheel count as magic?”

“Well sure, but only at the worlds fair.”

You rolled your eyes but effectively tugged them both into the line. It had always been one of your favorites. It gave you a good look at the city you called home. Of course, your view of that city had been stunted lately. It never truly changed the beauty of the lights and the way they reflected off the water.

Your shoulder came in contact with chilled leather, your attention having been trained on fishing through your pockets for the small red tickets. Your eyes shot up, ready to rush out an apology until the words stopped in your throat.

Seeing Natasha outside of her manor was jarring. She looked nearly the same, a tight-fitting black T-shirt and a leather jacket draped over her shoulders. Her hair was loose, unlike it was at training earlier in the day, cascading down her shoulders. Her make-up was light, her unripe stare pouring into yours. That bewilderment melted into her cool exterior as if it were never there in the first place.

“Natasha,” the word poured from your lips before you could stop it, and the corner of her mouth quirked up in amusement. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I can take a hit” She stated matter-of-factly. You were well aware of the fact, and you had to stifle a shiver as it worked its way down your spine. Hours before she had been nestled so perfectly on top of you.

Your cheeks heated up and you glanced sparingly at your friend, her own eyes going back and forth between the both of you. It was then that you noticed Clint, towering over Natasha with his arms crossed over his chest. He gave you a finger wave, and you lifted your chin in return.

“I’m Darcy, you are?” She was beyond forward, and it made you internally cringe. She reached her hand out to the very woman that ran the city. It was like sticking your hand in the lions enclosure covered in steak sauce.

“Natasha,” her words dripped with a subtle hint of her accent “This is Clint.”

“Howdy,” he knelt then, Veronica was clinging tightly to your leg, peeking around tentatively. She hugged you closer as he spoke. “You must be Veronica.”

The woman in front of you softened as you had never seen before. Her eyes grew brighter, though you could pin that on the circulating lights of the Ferris Wheel. There was a genuine smile on her lips as she looked at the girl who hugged you ever close.

“She doesn’t talk much, I’m afraid.” Your hand moved comfortingly to her shoulder. Ronnie seemed comfortable, if not excited about the rides that were teeming around them.

Nat smiled at you “Oh, I’m sure she’ll speak when she has something to say.”

Ronnie’s death-grip on your leg seemed to loosen a bit as Clint straightened up. Darcy continued to scrutinize you and Natasha, something mischievous in her stare that you didn’t exactly care for. She rocked back and forth on her feet and directed her attention to Clint.

“How good are you at skeeball?”

“An absolute beast.” Clint replied.

“What do you say to a challenge? I bet I can kick your ass with the power of science. Winner springs for funnel cake.”

You picked up on the subtle look Clint gave Natasha and the even more subtle wave that she responded with. She blew an amused breath. Darcy stretched her hand towards Ronnie and wiggled her finger. “Kid, you staying or going?”

This time, Ronnie looked up at you for confirmation and you gave her a small, encouraging nod. She dislodged herself and wrapped her hand around Darcy’s. The promise of flaky and sweet funnel cake topped with powdered sugar was too tantalizing.

Admittedly, you were used to being left alone with Natasha at this point. Though it had mostly been in a business capacity. She seemed almost shy now, the line for the Ferris Wheel inching ever so closer.

“We can still go on, if you want.” She suggested.

“Yeah, yes. Of course.” You replied, “that would be lovely.”

“Your friend is very persistent.”

“She’s harmless, really.”

“And your daughter. She’s beautiful.” Natasha shoved her hands into her pockets, the two of you inching closer in line. “Just like her mother.”

Once again, you could feel the breath lodge in your throat, your cheeks flushing with fire. She was so bold at moments, and you remained silent in your conquest. There was no telling what was overstepping, though she blinked at you expectantly.

You fumbled dumbly with the tickets in your pockets, presenting them to the attendant. You both ended up in a cherry red car lined with nice leather cushions. Natasha’s thigh was warm against yours, her thick scent coating your lungs. Her arm was around the back of the cart, and a familiar sense of safety settled within you.

“You worry about her,” Natasha said to fill the silence as they loaded each cart. It lurched forward and back, making your stomach turn. “I didn’t start speaking until I was nine years old. My mother, she was so concerned that she rushed to be every specialist that money could buy. Whole days spent driving to different counties, just for them to say that same thing. Nothing is wrong, and I’ll talk when I’m ready.”

“What was that moment? The one where you were ready?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “The thing about being quiet, is that people tend not to notice when you’re in the room. My father protected Yelena and I from his world for as long as he could, but eavesdroppers hear no good of themselves, and others. I watched him give a man his last drink before shooting him between the eyes.”

“Fuck, Natasha.” You murmured.

“He doesn’t know I saw that. I ran as quietly as I could back to my room and hid under the duvet like a child. Something snapped in me that day and I no longer wanted to be silent. I suppose the fear of displeasing either of them ebbed the words from me.”

She was being vulnerable in front of you, a side that you had never seen. There were always her subtle touches, and her purred words that would hit the pit of your stomach. You’d watch as she gave unwavering commands to Clint, to Yelena and Kate. But this was different. This was her.

The city sparkled around you. Tricolored lights reflected off the blackness of the causeways that lapped listlessly at the harbor. If you squinted, you could almost make out the mansion where you spent most of your time.

The carnival buzzed below. Her scent was overwhelming, so warm and welcoming despite her danger. And dangerous she was. It was alluring, exciting. You looked at her, eyes pouring with emotion. Not so much pity, as she would snap your wrist at the fact. But a simple understanding.

Tentatively, you reached up and cupped her cheek. You both were too far above the ground to be realized and the simple gesture was one of good faith. Surprisingly, she leaned into your touch, making a quiet, relieved noise.

Your voice was whispered, “You didn’t deserve that. You were just a kid.”

She had closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth of your contact. Her features were so soft, so broken in this moment that you resisted the urge to kiss her frown away. Before you could contemplate it, the Ferris Wheel lurched and she gently took her fingers and wrapped them around your wrist, lowering both of your hands into her lap.

“She’ll talk,” Natasha gave your hand a squeeze “give her time.”

Natasha cleared her throat as the cart neared the end of its journey. She pulled away entirely, her arm still along the back of the seat. When she leaned closer, you could feel the weight of the gun in the inside pocket of her jacket. Seriousness had lidded over her eyes once more.

“We have a job tonight, and I want you to come along.” She said, breath hot on your collarbone.

You were suddenly snapped back to reality. Natasha was in fact the head of a crime ring that you had unwittingly stumbled into. Up until now, aside from the brutal beating, it had almost felt like child’s play. She’d relearned you how to shoot, and you knew the very basics of fighting. But, you were far from her Winter Soldier stand in. You weren’t even a toy soldier.

She sensed your hesitancy. “I have a meeting at a restaurant downtown. It’s not going to go south, but if it does, I need you there. You won’t be alone.”

“Clint?” You asked.

She shook her head “guys got a family of his own, he must spend some time with them outside of work hours. Kate.”

You fought back the noise that threatened to escape your throat. You didn’t doubt Kate, but you certainly doubted yourself. You didn’t have your own weapon, and the threat of leaving a restaurant with a bullet lodged between your ribs became very real, very quickly.

She chuckled at that, “I trust her. I trust you. Just stand there and follow her lead. Look hot and intimidating.”

“Is hot really a requirement?”

“Not really, but you pull it off.” There was a switch in her again, one that had been flipped effortlessly as she grabbed the collar of your sweater and pulled you impossibly close. You were nearly sitting in her lap. “Don’t fail me on this, y/n. It’s imperative that you do as you’re told.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You swallowed thickly as her hands wandered your side expertly. It took you a moment to realize that she had pulled the gun from her own coat and silently transferred it to yours before she released her hold on you. You had admit that you missed the touch instantly.

She stood from the cart when the attendant unlocked the door, reaching her hand out to you. You took it was ease, letting her help you onto the metal dismount. There were no words exchanged as you readjusted the weapon as slyly as you could muster, hands shoved into your pockets a moment later.

“I don’t know what to tell you, dude.” You could hear Darcy’s voice from within the crowds. It was easy to spot them, and you swore you saw the ghost of a smile on Natasha’s face. “The kid kicked both of our asses. Split the difference and pay up.”

“Yeah, fine.” Clint fished out his wallet and placed a couple of bills in Darcy’s waiting palm. “The price of carnival food these days is outrageous.”

Kate had presented you with a leather holster that fit snuggly around your chest and abdomen. She’d tightened the straps, your arms halfway raised. It felt a bit like a dressing room at the mall, her breath hot on your cheek as she tugged the center strap to make sure it was secure.

“Natasha likes us to be presentable.” She handed you a dark jacket to throw over the contraption. “Inconspicuous and deadly. But still presentable.”

You followed Kate’s lead. Natasha was to drive to the restaurant, and the two of you were to follow in a separate car. It was important to stay quiet unless you were spoken to directly by Natasha. Kate seemed at ease on the ride over, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel to an incoherent pop song.

The holster pinched you uncomfortably, but you were so deep into your own fear, your own reluctance, to pay much attention. Kate shot you a look, hard in her nature, and then softer when she glanced at you a second time.

“You’re much too tense” she flicked off the radio, delving you into a comfortable silence. “Lower your shoulders and relax. It’ll be an uneventful night.”

“Right,” you let out a shaky breath “uneventful.”

“Look, I can’t imagine how jarring this is for you. I would have shut down by now, changed my name and gone into witness protection if I was thrown into this life the way you are. Without a choice. But, we can make the best of it and do what we can to protect Natasha.”

“It seems like she can handle herself,”

Kate chuckled “Oh, she can. But she doesn’t keep us around just for protection. It’s a big city, she wants people she trusts. She wants a family. And I know it might not seem like it, but her welcoming you into her inner circle… it’s a blessing. Just like we’d go to bat for her, she’d do the same for us.”

You swallowed the dryness in your throat as Natasha pulled her car to the curb in front of a russet brick building. Kate did the same expertly, shutting off the engine. She clapped you on the shoulder, giving you one more encouraging smile. “One night at a time, y/n. Follow my lead.”

Kate opened the door for Natasha, and you had to keep your jaw from dropping on the ground at the sight of her. Her long leg stretched onto the sidewalk, her hand squeezing Kate’s in return as she helped her from the vehicle.

She wore a maroon dress, one that had a slit down the leg that left little to the imagination. The color matched the shirt Kate had given you earlier, everything orchestrated to a tee. The woman looked at you approvingly before she took striding steps towards the front of the building. Out of habit, you held the door open for you, another look sparkling in her dark eyes.

It was a restaurant that you had never set foot in. There was a sour, yet pleasant, scent of vinegar and cabbage masked with that of freshly baked bread and beef. The walls were painted deep green, black and white photos of rolling hills placed above empty tables.

It was clear what table you were to be led to. There was one in the center of the restaurant that was set up with a bottle of wine, and water. A candle burned in the middle, shading the woman who occupied it with shadows that stretched her delicate features. She wasn’t alone.

The woman had cropped blonde hair at the shoulders. Her hazel eyes were calculating, clocking Kate and yourself immediately. Kate pulled Natasha’s chair back, allowing her to sit before she took a step back. You flanked her sides, arms behind your back and stare trained straight ahead like a sentinel.

“Two,” the woman smiled devilishly, hiding it behind a glass of deep red wine. “Are you compensating for something, or someone?”

The woman who stood much like you did behind her boss was not masking her contempt towards you. She was familiar in an irking way that you paid no mind to. It was in passing, you were sure, but it was one of those itches that would worsen until you could scratch it with your whole hand.

“Not at all,” Natasha replied cooly, “I believe there was something you wanted to discuss?”

“Mm, there was. You know the Maroni property on the west side.” She leaned forward, placing her glass down. Her lips were stained in a dark red that matched Natasha’s dress. “I want it.”

“That’s a horrible way to say please.”

“Natasha, we both know it doesn’t serve you in it’s current position.” She put emphasis on the name.

“I fail to see how that matters. Just giving you the property is out of the question. That’s not how this works, but I do admire your gumption.”

“Then how exactly does, this work?” She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. Both you and Kate tensed. The vaguely-familiar woman behind Carol shifted on her feet in the slightest movement. “You kill one of my men and offer nothing in return?”

Natasha lifted her eyebrows “Exactly. This isn’t a bartering system, and it never has been. If I give you this building, it will change everything and I’m not much in the mood for a power struggle. What do you need it for?”

She seemed to falter “I don’t have to answer that. I’m offering to buy the property from you.”

“It’s not for sale.”

There was finality in her voice that rocked the room into silence. She hadn’t touched her wine, nor her water, and you figured she wouldn’t. Carol glowered at her, clearly not used to having her endeavors squashed with such ferocity.

Natasha took a steadying breath. “Is that all? It’s late and I’m tired of your graveling.”

She let out a sigh and crossed her legs, drumming her ringed fingers on the cloth-laid table. The flames in the candle seemed to react to her impatience. Kate’s jaw clenched and unclenched as she leveled the woman behind Carol with a fierce stare.

“I suppose. I want you to remember this moment, Natasha. I offered you a deal.” She stood and dramatically sighed once more. “This could have been easy.”

Kate always kept her eyes on Carol, on the woman who followed behind her with her hands shoved into her pockets. The darkness of a previous scar littered her collarbone. She had the same stare that Bucky had, that same determined anger that came with years of meetings with higher stakes than this.

“Oh, and Nat.” She stopped just short of the door, turning to face the three of you.

Kate reached for her weapon, and out of a blind trust, so had you. It was warm from its housed place against your side. In that moment, you knew that anyone else in the room would be a quicker shot than you. Still, your heart was beating quickly in your throat.

“I don’t know where your Winter Soldier is, but this is a sorry excuse for a replacement.” She laughed, a mean sound. “A kid and a burn-out… you should’ve taken the deal.”

She left without another word, leaving you in a chilling silence. For a few long moments, Natasha stared at the table, at her reflection in the syrupy red wine. Her fingers brushed against the glass, frowning.

“I’m twenty-three.” Kate let out in a single breath, eyes drifting from you.

“Don’t look at me,” You whispered back, “I am a burn-out.”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toocreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos @cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145]

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #natasha romanov #natasha romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x reader #Marvel #Marvel Au #Kate Bishop #Mafia Au #request

432 notes · View notes

theminecraftbee · 6 months

Text

vault god facts for the new vault hunters watcher

(IE: hey hermitcraft fans HERE ARE YOUR GUYS TO DO LORE WITH)

so, there are four in-game vault gods. however, you'll sometimes hear people like hbomb refer to the "vault gods" when talking about the vault hunters devs. that, or blaming the name of douwsky, the janitor. those are not the gods i'm referring to here but ask me about my iskall headcanons as a result of this sometime.

each god has altars in the vault, which will ask for a specific sacrifice in order to give you favor with that god. they also have idols, which raise your favor and have bonuses depending on which god the idol belongs to (as well as bonuses to things like amount of mana and how fast you recover from status effects).

having favor with a god can confer upon you bonuses within the vault, and has a compounding effect the more favor you have.

raising favor with one god will eventually lower favor with another (assuming update 12 keeps that mechanic), so the hermits will eventually develop certain gods they each individually have more of an affinity towards, depending on their play style. this can be seen in the vault hunters stat screen, so keep an eye out!

you used to be able to get negative favor with the vault gods, and they'd hurt you in the vault. this has largely been removed in this version of vault hunters (unless they put it back in update 12, i haven't quite caught up with the mechanical rework from this update). pete had a whole arc about this in season 2 of vh smp.

when vault god favor activates at the start of a vault, the gods have quotes they state in the chat. from these, you can pick up a bit of their personalities.

they have official art! that being said, even with this official art, people like to interpret them a lot of ways, so go crazy go nuts!

it seems the final boss may have something to do with these figures...

the four gods are as follows:

idona, the malevolent is the red vault god. their altar asks you to kill mobs as sacrifice. when you have favor with idona, you earn more soul shards while killing, have higher strength, and are more effective at killing mobs.

tenos, the omniscient is the blue vault god. their altar asks you to give up levels as a sacrifice. when you have favor with tenos, you find more items while looting, those items are rarer, and generally you'll get more out of the vault.

wendarr, the timekeeper is the yellow vault god. their altar asks you to give up mana as sacrifice. when you have favor with wendarr, mana regenerates faster, you can have more time in the vault, and generally things that take time will move more in your favor.

velara, the benevolent is the green vault god. their altar asks you to give up health as sacrifice. when you have favor with velara, you can get regeneration, have more hearts, and generally you'll be healthier and heal faster. additionally, velara is the god that punishes you for using healing potions in the vault by cutting your healing efficiency by a large amount. only use vault potions if you don't want to anger them.

and that's some vault gods knowledge for you to lore with! have fun! :D

#hermitcraft vault hunters #vault hunters #you know for a FACT i'm gonna go nuts here.#vh talk

476 notes · View notes

musicforastylesrestaurant · 15 days

Text

By Order Of The Crimson Brotherhood.

(peaky blinder!harry)

masterlist || ask me anything

in which, the year is 1921, and the city of manchester is under the control of the ruthless gang the crimson brotherhood, so when there leaders wife gets mobbed in the streets on her way home from the farmers market, the styles brothers make sure they know she is one of there own.

word count - 2.6k

authors note - ik this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but i have 100% been in my peaky blinders era as of the beginning of the month, im already on season four 🙈🙈 and thought it would be kind of cute to join the two worlds together, don’t know if this will turn out any good but who knows?? anywho enjoy angels 💗💞

January, 1921.

Harry Edward Styles, a man born and raised in the city of Manchester, a man known for his ruthlessness, his strong will and his dangerous antics.

Him aswell as his brothers roamed the streets of Holmes Chapel, with razor blades down into the flat caps which ultimately led to fear seeping into the bones of there enemies.

Which they had a lot of.

The Styles Brothers were well renown around those ends, the family always had been, there father wasn’t present and there mother died when the youngest brother was barely a year old.

Harry met you, his gorgeous girl at the age of nineteen, the two of you were childhood sweethearts, destined to be together no matter the circumstances.

You were wandering around the streets, when you bumped into him and his elder brothers Charlie and George. You were about to fall to the floor but your wrist was captured in the hands of the leader, who caught you and raised you back to your feet carefully.

You asked how you could return the favour and he muttered something along the lines of ‘you could let me take you out for a night on the town’

And the rest was history.

When the war broke out, Harry knew for a fact that he would be getting called up to represent his country, and at the point the two of you were already engaged, but he demanded that the two of you be husband and wife before he was shipped off, explaining that if he was to die, he wanted to die as your husband.

So, the two of you had a small ceremony and you officially became Mr and Mrs. Styles.

When he returned home from war, he demeanour was slightly colder due to everything that he had seen and been through, he was colder to everyone around him, except for you.

He could never be angry, harsh, callous or aggravated around you.

People feared him before he went to war, but when he returned it was like he was a ticking time bomb, one wrong move and heads would be blown.

He ruled Manchester.

And that would never, ever change.

In the heart of Manchester, you move with the grace of a queen, your every step echoing the legacy of the Crimson Brotherhood, the notorious gang led by your husband, Harry Styles.

Despite the weight of your marital ties, you refuse to be confined by the expectations placed upon you.

Alone at the market, you weave through the stalls with purpose, selecting the finest ingredients for the dinner you plan to prepare for your husband, and his brothers.

Determination fuels your steps as you pick out fresh produce, savory meats, and delicate spices, each item chosen with care to create a meal worthy of the Crimson Brotherhood.

You approach the butcher's stall with a slightly sense of innocence, the scent of freshly cut meat mingling with the bustling atmosphere of the market. As you exchange pleasantries with the butcher, you can't help but admire the array of cuts on display, each one a testament to the skill and expertise of the person behind the counter.

"Good afternoon, love. What can I get for you today?"

Returning the smile, you reply, "I'm looking for four round beef steaks, please."

One for you, one for Harry, one for Charlie and one for George.

The butcher nods, already reaching for the desired cuts. "Ah, excellent choice. Coming right up."

As they expertly select the steaks, you engage in friendly banter. "Busy day at the market?"

The butcher chuckles, their hands deftly working the meat. "Always is, especially with the sun shining like this. But I can't complain, keeps me on my toes."

You nod in agreement, admiring their skill. "I can imagine. Thank you for always providing such quality cuts."

With a satisfied grin, the butcher presents the four round beef steaks, neatly packaged and ready for you. "There you go, love. These should do the trick."

"Thank you so much," you reply gratefully, accepting the package. "I really appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure," the butcher says warmly. "Enjoy your meal."

With the package of steaks safely tucked into your basket, you bid farewell to the lively atmosphere of the farmers market. The sun's warm rays still linger, casting a golden glow over the bustling streets of Manchester.

As you walk, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having secured the ingredients for tonight's dinner.

Reaching into your basket, you retrieve a pair of gloves, slipping them onto your hands with practiced ease.

Just as you're about to slip the second glove onto your hand, a sudden grip tightens around your arm, pulling you forcefully backward.

Startled, you gasp as you're dragged into the dimly lit entrance of a secluded alleyway, the bustling sounds of the market fading into the distance behind you.

Heart pounding, you struggle against your assailant, your fingers instinctively tightening around the basket's handle, the package of steaks forgotten in your grip.

Panic surges through you as you're dragged deeper into the darkness, your mind racing with fear and uncertainty.

As the man's grip tightens around your arm, you're suddenly face to face with a stranger whose features are etched with menace. His blonde hair falls haphazardly across his scarred face, the jagged line drawing your attention to the intensity in his eyes.

The overpowering stench of rotten egg fills your nostrils, sending a shiver down your spine as he speaks.

"Just the girl I've been looking for," he growls, his words sending a chill through your trembling body. Tears blur your vision as you stare back at him, unable to comprehend the terror unfolding before you.

He was Irish.

In a voice thick with malice, he continues, his words slicing through the air like a blade. "Your husband and his brothers owe me, and I aim to collect. And what better way to send a message than through his darling wife?"

You try to speak, to plead for mercy, but fear has stolen your voice. Before you can utter a word, his fist connects with your jaw, sending you sprawling to the ground.

Gasping for breath, you curl into yourself, the pain radiating through your body like fire.

The man's laughter echoes off the walls, cold and cruel. "They crossed me, and now it's time to pay the price. And you, my dear, are the perfect pawn in this little game of ours."

As he delivers blow after brutal blow, each impact driving the air from your lungs, you cling to the faint hope that someone will come to your rescue.

But as the darkness closes in around you, you realize that you are utterly alone, at the mercy of a man whose cruelty knows no bounds.

With aching limbs, you muster the strength to push yourself upright, the world spinning around you as you struggle to focus through the haze of pain and fear.

Casting a wary glance over your shoulder, you retrieve the basket of food that had fallen to the ground during the attack.

With trembling hands, you wipe the dried blood from the corner of your mouth, the metallic taste lingering on your tongue as a grim reminder of the violence you've endured.

Summoning every ounce of willpower, you force yourself to take a step forward, the basket clutched tightly to your chest. Your movements are slow and unsteady, each step sending waves of agony rippling through your battered body.

As you reach the end of the alleyway, you pause, casting a furtive glance around to ensure that no one is watching. The last thing you need is for someone to see you in this state, vulnerable and exposed.

With a silent prayer for strength, you begin the agonizing journey home, every step a testament to your resilience in the face of unspeakable cruelty. Tears threaten to spill from your waterline, but you refuse to let them fall, determined to maintain a facade of strength until you reach the safety of your own four walls.

With each agonizing step, you inch closer to the familiar sight of 24 Spring Lane, your sanctuary from the horrors of the outside world.

The journey that once felt like a mere stroll now stretches out before you like an eternity, every movement a testament to the relentless ache that pulses through your battered body.

Finally, you reach the doorstep, the key trembling in your hand as you struggle to insert it into the lock. Your fingers fumble with the familiar motion, the simple act of unlocking the door now a monumental task in your weakened state.

As you push open the door and step inside, relief washes over you, tempered only by the searing pain that courses through your body with each labored breath.

The injuries inflicted upon you by your assailant are beginning to take their toll, the dull throb in your ribs now accompanied by a sharp sting at the top of your eyebrow.

Unaware of your husband's presence, you stagger into the living room, your focus consumed by the overwhelming need to seek refuge from the torment of the outside world. But as you drop the basket to the floor and collapse onto the ground, a cry of pain escapes your lips, the weight of your injuries too much to bear alone.

In the dim light of the room, you catch a glimpse of Harry sitting in the corner, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

His expression is unreadable, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond your line of sight.

As you collapse onto the floor, your body wracked with pain, Harry's instinct kicks in, propelling him across the room in a blur of motion. With a sense of urgency, he drops his cigarette and rushes to your side, his hands reaching out to catch you before your skull can meet the unforgiving wooden floor.

His eyes widen in shock and concern as he takes in the extent of your injuries, his heart clenching at the sight of blood staining your face and clothes. Gently, he cradles the back of your head, his touch both tender and urgent as he ensures your safety in the midst of the chaos.

"M’Love, what happened?" Harry's voice is thick with worry, his usually steady demeanor shaken by the sight of you in such distress.

He carefully brushes the hair from your face, his touch feather-light against your bruised skin.

You struggle to find the words to answer him, the pain making it difficult to form coherent thoughts, let alone speak. But as you meet his gaze, the unspoken understanding that passes between you is enough to convey the depths of your suffering.

Without hesitation, Harry gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest with a fierce protectiveness that belies the tenderness in his touch. As he holds you close, you feel a sense of safety wash over you, a comforting reminder that no matter the trials you may face, you will always find refuge in his embrace.

As Harry holds you close, his voice filled with concern, he gently urges you to tell him who is responsible for your injuries. But fear grips you tightly, paralyzing your voice as you shake your head vehemently, unable to form the words to convey the terror that still grips your heart.

"Please, love," Harry implores, his eyes searching yours for any sign of reassurance. "Y’need to tell me who did this. I won't let ‘em hurt you again, I promise."

But the memory of the man's cruel laughter and the violence he inflicted upon you looms large in your mind, filling you with a sense of dread at the thought of facing him again. How can you trust that Harry's promise will hold against such ruthless brutality?

Tears stream down your face as you cling to Harry, your body trembling with the weight of your fear and pain. You long to confide in him, to share the burden of your suffering, but the words remain trapped within you, a silent scream of anguish and despair.

In response to your silent plea, Harry's grip tightens around you, his arms a shield against the darkness that threatens to consume you.

"I swear to you, (Y/N)," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil raging within you. "Whoever did this won't ever be able to hurt you again. I'll make sure of it."

"I... I don't know his name," you manage to say, your voice trembling with fear and pain. "But he... he had blonde hair and... and a scar."

Harry's expression darkens as he processes your words. "Patrick McDonald," he mutters, his voice laced with anger and recognition. "Bloody hell."

Another wave of pain radiates from your ribs, causing you to instinctively turn your head into your husband's chest, seeking comfort in his embrace.

As you lean against him, Harry's arms tighten around you, a silent vow of protection against the threat that looms on the horizon.

"I'll deal with him," he promises, his voice a low growl. "No one hurts my wife and gets away with it."

“George, Charlie!”

You hadn't even realized they were in the house, lost in the chaos of your own pain and fear, but now they appear, their presence a welcome relief amidst the turmoil.

With wide eyes, George and Charlie rush into the room, their expressions shifting from confusion to concern as they take in the sight of you battered and bruised on the floor.

"What happened to ‘er?" George demands, his voice edged with worry as he kneels beside you, his hands hovering over your injuries.

Harry's jaw clenches with barely contained fury as he speaks the name that has haunted your nightmares since the attack.

"Patrick McDonald," he growls, his voice thick with anger and determination.

Charley lets out a harsh breath, his expression darkening with recognition.

"Bloody hell," he mutters, his fists clenching at his sides.

As the gravity of the situation sinks in, George's gaze flickers between you and his brothers, his features set in a steely resolve.

"We need to find him," he declares, his voice firm with determination.

Harry nods in agreement, his eyes burning with a fierce determination.

"And when we do, he'll wish he'd never laid a hand on her," he vows, his voice a low growl.

With trembling hands, you grip tight onto your husband's waistcoat, your eyes pleading with him not to leave your side.

"Please, H," you beg, your voice wavering with fear and desperation. "Don't leave me."

Harry's gaze softens as he looks down at you, his heart aching at the sight of your pain.

"I have to, m’love," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "That bastard deserves hell f’what he did to you, and he's going to get what's coming to him."

You shake your head frantically, tears streaming down your bruised cheeks.

"But I need you here," you plead, your voice barely a whisper amidst the chaos of the room. "I'm scared, H. Please don't leave me alone."

For a moment, Harry's resolve wavers, his love for you outweighing the thirst for vengeance burning within him. But then, with a heavy heart, he gently extricates himself from your grasp, his eyes filled with determination as he rises to his feet.

"I promise, (Y/N)," he says, his voice firm with resolve. "When we find him, he's going to hurt just like he hurt you, s’a promise, and I never, ever break promises. He’ll get what’s coming to him one way or another.”

“By order of the Crimson Brotherhood."

171 notes · View notes

bleucalire · 4 months

Note

Hello!!! I literally adore your art style! The way you manage to add depth and perspective to your faces without heavy use of facial planes is really impressive because my art looks similar to yours, (but without the depth) but every time I try to use facial planes it just doesn't work with my style. Do you have any art tutorials or pics with guidelines?? and if not would you ever consider making any?

once again LOVE your art your azi and crowley are just ADORABLE!!

thanks!!

Hi !! Thank you for your kind message !!

I’m afraid I don’t have any strict process that i could explain..? Except A LOT of training ? 😭 I can share how I like to train though ! (it’s often warm-ups before starting working)

- Posemaniacs !!!

20min of 45sec-1min poses every morning is a super cool warm-up, and it forces you to be quick and go to the point ! No unnecessary lines ! (Posting my sketches because i often see people who starts using it trying to do super detailed pics, with a lot of lines, and can’t finish their sketches before the time limit. Loose sketches are fine, you want to get the pose, the perspective, the overall volume, not to create a masterpiece. Posemaniacs is super rad because it helps you learn how to draw any pose from any angle. Also they have a bank of hundreds of 3D models with various poses you can move and turn how you like in a 3D space when you want a reference for when you’re drawing !)

- Do studies from animators/series you like !

Sakugabooru is a mine of references for that ! (i do both movement studies and still of frames i find super cool/instructive) Animators try hard to convey the depth/volumes, even on simple designs, so that’s good references (and yes i’m a kameda simp)

- Pictures of real people !/Real people from real life !!

For studying poses, clothes etc ! (Super rough and not detailed sketches like these ↓ help me a lot ! Sports references are cool ! Try to stay concise, not too many details ! It will leave you more time to do even more studies, and it forces you to find the essential points and lines of what you want to draw !)

- Michel Lauricella’s Books !!!

Suuuuper useful !! Also always checking them at work ! (My books are at work so sending my studies as well 🙈)

As for the style, most of the series i work on have a « simple style » (i like it when there’s not too many lines because it’s easier and funnier to animate). So i’m used to it and it’s reflecting on my Azi and Crowley i think ! If you like my style i can recommend you to do studies from Ousama Ranking, Mob Pyscho, Sherlock Hound, Doraemon, The Gutsy Frog, (and many more haha) (also of course 80’s-90’s Aoyama Gosho’s works ! Magic Kaito, Late Yaiba/Early Detective Conan ! The expressions I draw are heaaaavily influenced by it, as it’s the first thing I actively studied)

I hope it gives you ideas to dig when you want to train a bit !

Thank you again for your kind message ! Have a nice day !!

#ask #nice people #art tips #animation #my art #sketches #studies

276 notes · View notes

calcifiedunderland · 1 month

Text

Pride and Prejudice: A TWSTed AU

The Keeper of the Underworld: I. Shroud

Introduction, or Pick another route!

Idia x GN Reader (they/them)

Warnings: P&P-level angst and miscommunication, some cringe dialogue, parties, possibly ooc Idia, I wrote this before playing Book 6 so I apologize if there’s any inconsistencies

Notes: The level of overthinking I put into these fics is unreal 💀 First and foremost, thank you all for your patience!! Idia was hard to write, but I hope you enjoy, shrimpies~

———

Well this is certainly something, you thought. Of all the things you’d witnessed at NRC, (even overblots), you didn’t think you’d ever see Idia Shroud at one of Kalim’s parties.

You sipped on your drink when a shock of bright blue flames came in the corner of your eye, contrasting the orange-red of Scarabia. Kalim lead Idia into the dorm, bright and sunny, compared to the look on Idia’s face. Poor guy couldn’t even escape, because Cater and Rook ambled in behind him, chatting happily.

It was like the beginning of a joke: A sultan, a card soldier, a huntsman, and a blue flame-headed gamer walk into a room.

Kalim spotted you and grinned, grabbing Idia’s hoodie sleeve and dragging him over too. “Hey (name)! I’m glad you could make it!”

You smiled at the Scarabia Housewarden, “Thanks Kalim! I-“ At that moment, Jamil reached him to drag him away, mumbling exasperatedly to Kalim about being careful. Kalim laughed Jamil off, “sorry (name)! I’ll see you later, okay?” “Alright then…” you trailed off and turned to Idia, who looked like a deer in headlights.

“So…” you rocked on your heels. To be honest, you didn’t know how to approach him sometimes. Sure, you’d gamed with him a few times (with heavy insistence from Ortho) and you weren’t on his ‘avoid at all costs’ ranking list, but Idia did have his odd moments. Some days, you two would get along like a house on fire. Other times, it was like Idia hated you - avoiding you even in tablet-mode, and ghosting your chats.

You’d like to think that your more friendly moments were the ones that Idia counted, but sometimes it was hard to get a read on the guy.

“I didn’t know that you’d be at Kalim’s party today. I thought Ortho said there was an event in… um…?” You finished, cringing at your vagueness. You might not have known much about the game he played, even though he’d made you play it when you came over to Ignihyde, but you knew he probably didn’t want to be here of all places.

Idia’s hair flared a bit, and he looked resigned and moody. He pulled out his tablet. Ya, the event dropped today but I got mobbed by kalim + the extroverts. “That sucks,” you said, “I got dragged here by Ace. Still, it’s nice to see you.” In the oil lamp lighting, you could’ve sworn Idia’s hair turned a bit pink.

You were both silent, and you opened your mouth to speak when Lilia yelled out from the front, “let’s get this party started!” Kalim started drumming wildly, and then electric guitar swelled. Lilia began screaming heavy-metal-style into the mic. Around you, everyone started dancing, and even you found yourself moving to the rhythm.

You glanced at Idia every now and again, but he looked vaguely annoyed and tired despite the liveliness. He looks so over it, you thought. Probably since Kalim maybe dragged him here. You looked around, biting your lip when you noticed your friends having a grand old time on the dance floor, and kind of wanted to go too. Still, it wasn’t every day you saw Idia, and you wanted to do something with him. Especially since he was… well, here.

“So, Idia…” Idia’s eyes snapped to yours, dull. You rocked back on your feet, “do you dance?” Idia rolled his eyes, and you felt your heart sink, for some reason. Obvi not, id probs distract everyone anyway. And also id just rather not if I can help it. Your smile wavered, “c’mon Idia, anyone can dance, even if it’s not good!” Idia typed rapidly into the tablet, i mean ur not wrong. Like literally anyone can dance but ppl only do it bc its wat normies do.

You opened your mouth, then squared your shoulders, words failing you. Idia shoved a hand into his pockets and opened an app on the tablet, scrolling. You swayed for a bit, feeling awkward while Idia kept his eyes glued to the screen, a frown creasing his brows. Finally you shrugged your shoulders, trying to shake that sinking-feeling off.

You stepped into the crowd of dancing people, swaying to the music and trying not to look over at the blue flames swaying in the corner. Unknowing to you, Idia glanced up from his tablet every few minutes, trying to catch a glimpse of you, before trudging back to the cold chrome of Ignihyde, back to his dorm.

———

Ugh, could this get any worse?

Idia flopped onto his bed, shoving his headphones on and opening the mobile game on his phone. Not only did he get a late start on the game event, but he flubbed a chance to talk to you. Even if you did want to dance like all the other non-introverts at Scarabia. Thank Sevens Ortho didn’t know he missed his chance, otherwise the little robot would’ve torn Idia apart.

Idia shut his eyes and went over the details. Doing this IRL was trash-tier. Why couldn’t this just be a good-old-fashioned otome game, or romance anime? First you meet the love interest, then you find things they’re into, then you talk to them more. Then finally you confess, and cue the outro. He’d watched countless shojo and romance anime’s, and that was the basic outline. Eventually, the ethereal, gorgeous, smart, kind protagonist (aka you) would fall in love with their love interest (aka him) and it would all work out. Boom. Happily ever after.

Ah, yes. He could see it now.

Cherry blossom petals rained around both of you. Where are they coming from, this campus doesn’t grow cherry blossoms? Whatever, don’t question it. Anyway, the petals fluttered past your beautiful, sparkling eyes as you stared up at Idia with adoration and love. Idia stared down at you with full-rizz, kabedoning you against the wall.

“Oh, Idia-senpai!” You’d cry, eyes turning into hearts as sparkles and pink flower petals surround you both. “You’re so cool and not cringe at all! I could never want one of those normies! You’re the only one for me! Please date me!” And then Ortho would set off the heart-shaped fireworks and you two would finally kiss-kiss-fall-in-love, just like the popular anime Our High School Has A Host Club And The Leader Falls In Love With Me?!

“Whee hee hee…” Idia stared off into the distance, giggling ominously to himself and hair turning pink at the ends. His character on the screen went into idle mode, and he didn’t even hear when Ortho floated into the room. “Big brother?” Ortho gently tapped him on the shoulder, yanking him from his shojo daydream. Idia jumped, hair flaring. “AAAIIIIEEEE-“ Ortho jumped back, eyes wide but not detecting any signs of injury on Idia.

Idia breathed heavily, wide-eyed. “Ortho! Wh-when did-? I wasn’t-!” Ortho analyzed his heart beat, noting that Idia had traces of blush on his cheeks and his erratic behavior pointed to- “Were you thinking about (name) (last name)?” Ortho asked innocently, his theory proven when Idia flushed and went pinker. The younger boy suddenly got an idea.

“You know, (Name)’s heart rate goes up when they interact with you,” Ortho watched his brother’s eyes widen, “even when you’re not there, when you’re mentioned, their heart rate increases by 45% and they are more likely to be in a positive mood. 82% of the time, they regard you in a positive way.” His eyes lit up happily with realization, “If my calculations are correct, they have feelings for you!”

Idia sat there, thinking. What were the odds you would like him back? Sure, you made him happy, and more importantly made Ortho happy. And it was actually nice talking to you. And he never felt exhausted after interacting with you. And maybe you did enjoy the artificial light of Ignihyde to the spring sun above, and maybe you would like being with dreary, nerdy him.

Ortho could see his brother lost in thought, noting that Idia’s heart rate spiked when he mentioned you. “I also overheard them telling Grim about finding a partner,” he said casually, omitting that you’d been wanting a partner in Alchemy, and not necessarily a romantic partner.

That seemed to fire Idia up. Ortho could see the metaphorical cogs in Idia’s brain turning, an entire blueprint of a plan being made in his mind. At last, a wide cunning grin spread on his face, and he opened his arms, “well, who else but a genius could be partners with the MC?” He said arrogantly, “it’s not like just anybody can woo the protagonist!”

Ortho beamed, cheering, “all you need to do now is confess!” Idia immediately began sweating, freezing up. “H-huh?!”

——

You frowned at your textbook, rubbing your temples as you read through the alchemy procedure. Ugh, this couldn’t get any more confusing.

As you turned to begin writing, the door burst open. You flinched and immediately locked eyes with a frazzled Idia. His golden eyes were wide, and he was panting - he even looked sweaty. Somehow his blue fire hair seemed just as frazzled as him, looking pale-blue in shock. Could flames somehow look poofy?

“Prefect!” He squeaked. “Idia?” You questioned, what’s he doing here? It was odd that he’d be out of his room at six in the afternoon, not to mention he looked afraid of you. It wasn’t like you were a stranger, even though as of late, he treated you like one.

He stared at you from the door for an uncomfortable amount of time, then sped-walked to stand in front of you. You looked up at him from your seat, tapping your fingers. You awkwardly asked “do you wanna sit down?” He shook his head quickly, the ends of his hair were turning pink. You frowned, “…dude, are you okay?”

Idia flinched. He pivoted on his heel, “no, no, can’t do it, not today-“ he scuttled out of the room and slammed the door, screeching to himself and pulling his hood over his head. You stared at the door, vaguely hearing Idia freaking out to… was that Ortho? You heard the little robot boy’s voice through the door, probably calming Idia down, along with an odd spraying sound.

It went quiet and you assumed they’d left. Whatever, weirder things have happened at NRC. As you went back to writing, the door slammed open again. You jumped, heart beating wildly. Idia stormed over to you, hair blazing a trail behind him. He slammed his hands down on the desk, and your eyes watered with the scent of overpowering cologne bodyspray.

“Prefect! I need to tell you something!” Idia’s eyes steeled in determination, and he looked you dead in the eye. He was breathing heavily, and his flamed hair blazed and curled more than usual, turning deep pinkish-red near the ends. The last time you saw his hair similar to that, was when he was rage-playing during one of your gaming sessions. How pissed is he? You felt your heart leap into your throat.

“Idia,” you began, freaked out, “I think you should sit down-“ Idia blazed on, “this is honestly a horrible decision for you and definitely for me. I don’t even want to think about what Mother and Father would say, not to mention how this’d affect Styx.” He was tunnel visioning now. “Plus you don’t even have magic and this might not even work out anyway ‘cause I don’t see us working out TBH…” Slowly his hair began fizzling out, voice getting quieter and quieter as he mumbled to himself.

This was a terrible idea, Idia realized. After everything that had happened with Styx, not to mention everything you had to deal with personally, it wouldn’t be good to get involved with him. You could be in danger, especially as a non-magic user. No, it would be selfish of him to ask you to be with him. Why would you, anyway? There were other guys at NRC, not to mention the entire Sage’s Island, who would be a better fit for not. Especially ones who didn’t kidnap your friends and Grim. Especially someone like Idia.

No, he concluded. He shouldn’t have come.

You frowned deeply. “Idia, what…?” Your alchemy work definitely wasn’t done yet and Idia was making zero sense. He sighed, as if tired all of a sudden. “Nope, no… this isn’t going to work.” He stood abruptly and sped-walked out the door, brushing past Ortho. You overheard the boy try to get his brother to come back, but Idia didn’t stop. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. So that’s what this is about? Idia didn’t want to be friends with you anymore? All because you weren’t… what? A tech whiz? Good at gaming? Magical? Your heart dropped. Because you were just too different from him? So you weren’t good enough to be even friends with him?

Your eyes stung at the thought. Fine. If Idia wanted to be that way, then fine. You shoved your books into you bag and headed back to Ramshackle. You doubted you’d be able to focus, anyway.

———

Poor Ortho was confused.

After running simulation after simulation, scouring the Internet for any clues, and piecing together what Idia said after running out of the classroom, he just couldn’t understand what happened. That was a first, considering it was Ortho.

Idia had ran out of the room in a hurry, mumbling incoherently. “Brother! What’s happening?” Ortho flew to him, scanning his vitals. Idia seemed to be ok, but his brother seemed… strangely melancholic. “Ortho, it won’t work out,” he said dejectedly, not wanting to talk about it.

Ortho called after him, trailing behind “What did (name) (last name) say? There was a high probability they’d accept your-” Idia sighed in exasperation, shaking his head. “It won’t work. I should’ve never left the dorm…” As Idia trudged back to Ignihyde, Ortho was left with more questions.

He hovered for a moment, before heading back to the alchemy room for you, only to not find you there. Ortho thought hard, thinking back to what Idia said. ‘It won’t work out,’ was what he said - not a flat-out rejection from you. So that meant…

He began floating back to Ignihyde, determined. I can still save this!

———

You were taking overthinking to a new level.

You bit your lip, staring at the game’s chatbox in front of you. Idia was online, and probably didn’t realize you were too. You leaned against the Heartslabyul common room couch (curse Ramshackle’s lack of internet!), and hit send.

Hey is everything ok??

You watched Idia’s game icon immediately switch to “online less than 1 minute ago,” and groaned.

Cater exited the kitchens, leaning over the couch back. “Hey~ what’s got my fave frosh so worked up?” He chirped, looking at your phone. “Ohh, isn’t that the popular game that’s been trending? Wait, didn’t you say Idia got you into it?” Cater immediately had his phone in hand, “that’s supes adorable, playing with friends is so fun-“

You cut him off, throwing your hands up, “that’s it! Idia just doesn’t want to talk to me! He- he just-!” You grabbed a throw pillow and smashed your face into it, groaning. Cater patted your shoulder sympathetically, “well, we’re playing at another one of Kalim’s parties tonight, you want in?” You sniffed dramatically, thinking. “Well, I guess. Sure, why not?”

Later that evening, you stepped into the Scarabia mirror. You and Cater made your way to the food table. As you both munched on Jamil’s cooking (damn, the guy made a good curry), you watched everyone dancing. “Y’know, it was weird seeing Idia at a party,” you commented, while Cater nodded. “Yeah! We decided to bring him along that day, it was fun seeing him.”

You sighed, “yeah, it was, but… it’s not really often that we can hang out in person. I kinda wanted to dance with him last time, but he sort of… blew me off? I guess maybe it wasn’t the best idea.” You winced, while Cater’s eyebrows rose. “You didn’t tell me that. So, he did that and also told you he didn’t want to be friends?” You nodded, frustration flooding back, “Yeah! And I just don’t understand how he can be so conceited about him being so high and smart, and not like me because I don’t-“

“Prefect,” Cater cleared his throat. You looked up mid-rant, meeting Ortho’s eyes, and jumped. He just snuck up on you both like it was nothing. Did he hear you? Hopefully he wouldn’t be mad. In your mind, Idia started it.

“Hello (name) (last name)!” Ortho said pleasantly, so you assumed he hadn’t heard you. Great. “I didn’t know you’d be here! What a coincidence!” That was a lie, Ortho overheard you and Cater talking about the party when you were walking to Scarabia. He absolutely knew. And he dragged Idia here because of it.

“Yep,” you smiled at Ortho, “it’s nice to see you.” Ortho mentally readied himself and remembered every bit of acting advice Vil gave him. “I almost forgot!” His eyes widened, while your eyes narrowed. Ortho was a robot. He didn’t forget shit. “Big brother is here, and he wanted to ask you to dance!” What? Your neck snapped around, looking for Idia’s bright blue hair. Cater elbowed you, bringing you back to reality.

“I-well, I- had not-“ you stammered, fumbling for an excuse. Ortho’s eyes shone at you like puppy eyes, and your anger at Idia cracked. “…yeah, sure,” you watched Ortho rise a bit in the air happily, “Yippee! I’ll go get him!” He zipped off, and you rubbed your temples. Cater twisted a strand of his hair, eyes wide. “Yikes…” “tell me about it,” you groaned.

A few minutes later, you both looked up when Kalim tapped the mic. You didn’t miss Ortho hovering a ways behind Kalim. “Hey everyone! Thanks for coming!” When the cheering died down, Kalim continued, “We’re gonna try something different! Everyone, find a partner and join the dance floor!”

Cater glanced at you, mischievous. “Welp, I can’t leave them hanging~ TTYL, Prefect!” And he left faster than you could say ‘Magicam.’ Sweet.

You hesitantly stepped to the dance floor, half expecting Ortho to float up to you and sheepishly tell you Idia left. Your mind drifted back to that day in the alchemy room. I guess it wouldn’t work, anyway.

To your surprise, a finger tapped your shoulder. You turned, seeing Idia with a with a flushed expression, wearing a casual-but-chic blazer. His hair looked a bit tamer than normal, and cascaded down his back in a low ponytail, bangs flickering over his forehead. Undoubtedly, this was the work of Ortho, who definitely got pointers from Vil.

You both stared at each other, unmoving, until slow music began playing. You averted your eyes. Idia gulped, eyes widening until waving caught his eye. Ortho was flying upwards a little ways away from the slowly-crowding dance floor, gesturing wildly at you. As if that wasn’t enough, he projected words above his head: DANCE WITH THEM!

Idia was lucky that everyone else was more interested in dancing with their partner than Ortho. His eyes snapped back to you, “s-so I guess you wanna-“ he swallowed thickly, eyes shifting to the dance floor. You shrugged, feigning nonchalance and looked ahead. Idia looked back at Ortho, who was pointing wildly at the words. He thought to himself, this is fine. It’s just the mandatory side quest. It’s not fighting the boss. It’s…

It’s charming the love interest. It’s solidifying your route!

Idia steeled himself and forced your hand into his. Your eyes shot to his in surprise, and he walked stiffly to the dance floor. Your hand clasped his, and you both swayed gently to the soft rock from the stage. Your brows furrowed, but Idia locked his gaze onto you, focusing only on you.

Yes, he thought. This is just the player’s pov on the screen, and he was only focusing on the love interest. The other waltzers didn’t exist. The party didn’t exist. It was just you and him.

Meanwhile, you were at a loss for words. While Idia seemed taciturn, you glanced up at the stage. Cater, Kalim, and Lilia were in their own little bubble jamming out, so that wasn’t a lifeline. After a little while of swaying with Idia, you hummed, “I haven’t seen you in a while. Since that day.” Idia’s hands felt clammy, and in the dimmed lights you saw a small pink dusting Idia’s cheeks. You saw him swallow heavily, but he didn’t say a word.

The tension grew between you two, and despite feeling hurt, you felt a little bad. Still, you wanted some answers out of Idia, after the incident in the alchemy room. “Y’know, you never used to be this… odd around me.” Was it the crowd that made him quiet, or… You felt a lump in your throat. Was it you?

Idia’s eyebrows shot up, thinking fast on what to say. Why can't conversations irl have ready-made dialogue?! “I… we c-can talk about wh-whatever you want? I guess?” He tried, kicking himself internally for leaving his tablet with Ortho. You bit the inside of your cheek as you stepped with him, that’ll do for now. “Scarabia parties are a little much, but they’re more pleasant than the Pomefiore mock balls,” you tried “wouldn’t you say?” After an uncomfortable pause, expecting a reply, you mumbled to yourself, “I guess we can stop talking now.”

“...is it like a rule for normies to chat while dancing? Isn’t the act of moving enough?” Idia mumbled in exasperation, hand tightening a little on your own. You bit your lip, your eyes burning. “No, I prefer to not talk to my friends at all and tell them we can’t be friends. It’s so much fun, right?” Idia’s eyes widened, and he scrambled for words, “I- I didn’t mean…” You stopped swaying abruptly, both of your clasped hands in the air. “Why are you here, Idia?”

A chill went through Idia. “T-To be honest, I didn’t even want to come to this stupid IRL dance,” he rushed out, “TBH Ortho had to make me come ‘cause he told me you’d be here-“ “You didn’t want…?” You cut Idia off, heart dropping. The other dancing couples swirled around you, but all the commotion around you felt like nothing more than idle chatter. Hurt flashed in your eyes, and Idia seemed shocked, which made you angry.

“I guess you wouldn’t want to be friends with someone who’s magicless, especially since you have STYX right?”

Idia’s eyes were wider than the Heartslabyul tea saucers. For once, he didn’t have a smart-ass reply. “Um, what? Obvi, I’m kind of stuck with STYX-” You let go of his hand and took a step back, almost bumping into a waltzing couple. “Yeah, wouldn’t want me to mess things up. Make any bad decisions and all that, right?” You felt your eyes water, despite yourself.

Furiously balling a fist and wiping your eyes, “Since you said we wouldnt work out n’stuff.” Idia suddenly remembered everything he’d muttered to himself, from the moment he’d stormed into the room to when he’d left dejectedly. When he’d made his choice and left before you could even get your word in.

Like a coward.

Idia’s heart pounded but shakingly, he reached a hand out to you. “P-prefect, I-I-!” You dodged the crowd, and ran out of Scarabia. You didn’t look back until you crashed through Ramshackle’s door, raced up the stairs, and fell onto your bed, Grim yelping in surprise as you tried your darndest to forget everything that just happened.

Back in Scarabia, Idia somehow stumbled off the dance floor, staggering to a table and breathing heavily. Mentally he replayed everything that just happened. Ortho floated over to him, “Brother? I don’t understand, why would (name) (last name) not accept your feelings?” Ortho went over the footage when he was observing you both dancing, and frowned.

“My senses indicate that based on their body language, they were upset with you. What happened?” Idia swallowed heavily, “I-I said it wouldn’t work out between us c-cuz they don’t have magic,” he stammered, eyes wide, “a-and STYX and-...” Ortho’s eyes widened, then narrowed, “That shouldn’t be a problem! You know that!”

“I meant for them, Ortho.” Idia sighed heavily, sinking into the chair. “I don’t want them to get hurt. Not when…” his mind wandered to Ortho, before NRC. He fell into deep thought. “In the end, I couldn’t even tell them...” He frowned deeply.

Ortho fell quiet, computing. Idia stared at the table, dejected, until Ortho spoke. “You know (Name) (lastname) doesn’t back down easily from a challenge.” That’s true. From playing games with Idia to taking down overblots, you weren’t someone who ran away when it mattered. Maybe that’s why Idia liked you - you were like the protagonists in animes, who found a way to make the world their own.

“You shouldn’t make (name) (last name)’s decision for them.” Idia looked up at his brother. Ortho continued, head angling to the side, Idia shook his head dejectedly, “it won’t work-”

“Your lil’ bro is right, y’know,” Cater walked over, shaking his hair out with his guitar slung over his shoulder. “Sry, I overheard you two,” Cater could piece together what happened. He did see you blow up at Idia (although he couldn’t hear you), and after spamming your phone with no reply after you ran out, now he had an idea of what was going on. “Y’know, if you didn’t tell them how you felt, then how could you know you were making the right choice?”

Idia looked down. Ortho piped up, “Cater Diamond is right.” Idia shut his eyes, then stood up, hands tightening into fists. Cater jumped back as Idia’s hair flared up bright blue, and the Ignihyde housewarden headed straight to the exit. Ortho called out, “thank you, Cater Diamond!” and floated after Idia, “Brother! Wait!”

“Lets go, Ortho,” Idia’s golden eyes steeled in determination, “I can fix this.”

—----

A knock on the door jolted you from your reading of Prejudice and Pride.

It was early morning. Somehow, even though it was the weekend and you’d stayed up all night, you still woke up at an ungodly early hour. After being unable to fall asleep (totally not because of Grim’s snoring and sleep-munching) you decided to go to your living room and read. You were sure that you didn’t have a guest coming, so why would…?

You got up and opened the door, expecting Ace or Deuce or something. The annoyed look on your face turned to shock when you saw Idia standing on your porch. In one hand, he held a bouquet of pomegranate-red roses and some flowers you recognized to be asphodel.

You both stared at each other, unwilling to move. “Idia,” you breathed, “why are you here?” Idia shuffled awkwardly, “I wanted to see you.” You crossed your arms, looking around. “Where’s Ortho?” You were sure the little robot boy made his brother come. Otherwise, why would Idia be here? Idia rubbed the back of his neck, “Ortho isn’t here. I… I wanted to see you,” he repeated.

Wordlessly, he thrust the flowers into your arms, and you wrapped your arm around it instinctively. “I- um,” you looked everywhere but Idia, who was staring at the Ramshackle doorway. “Idia,” you cleared your throat, “about what happened-” “Prefect, I… I wanted to apologize.” Your eyes widened, but Idia continued.

“I… I didn’t mean what I said that day.” Idia looked bashful, face turning pink and the ends of his hair turning a deep blush. He kept talking, rambling on and fighting he urge to grab his tablet and let the device speak for him. “I… really like being friends with you.” The words came out quietly from him, and even though he looked like he wanted to sink into his hoodie, Idia didn’t shirk away.

A lump rose in your throat as you didn’t make eye contact with him, instead playing with the flower bouquet, “I like being friends with you too,” you bit your lip, rubbing an asphodel petal, “I like you, Idia.”

Idia’s eyes widened and went rigid. Both his face and his hair went deep pink. Your own eyes widened at the color, and you felt your face grow hot. So that’s what it meant…? Not anger…?Wordlessly, without thinking, you dropped the bouquet. Your body moved on its own, and you flung yourself at Idia, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and squeezing your eyes shut.

Idia staggered back from the momentum with a squeak, but wrapped his arms around your torso with an iron grip. You gripped his hoodie tightly, finally understanding what had gone on for so long. Your cheek was pressed against his, and despite the early morning chill, you both felt warm.

High above, Ortho hovered in the distance over the tree canopies from afar. He zoomed in on you and Idia, and behind his face mask, he beamed. In midair, he did a heart-shaped loop-de-loop in happiness, and hovered back to Ignihyde.

After a few minutes, you leaned back in Idia’s arms, the both of you chuckling in happy disbelief. You looked up and saw a little blue streak leaving a smoke trail of a heart, and laughed to yourself. Idia turned around, seeing his brother above, a soft reminiscent look on his face.

“…guess Ortho was right.”

~END

——-

Fun fact: the beginning is inspired by idia’s school uniform vignette!!!

Me, while writing this: wow Idia and Cater’s dialogue are unique, they’d be hard to write

Also me: *puts both of them in this fic and suffers*

Writing Idia was SO HARD but I hope I managed to get him right-ish. Trying to balance his reactions with the dialogue was hard 😭

anyway thanks for reading~ please leave a comment/reblog!! <3

Taglist: @cerisescherries, @eclecticprincecollector, @ars-tral, @thehollowwriter, @twst-eeps, @casperandcats, @ttokkisbee, @mitsuriswaifu, @parad-ice-lostandfound, @sad-sie, @moyo5653

(If your user is in bold, I wasn’t able to tag you properly)

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #idia shroud x reader #twst idia #idia shroud #ortho shroud #twst idia shroud #idia x reader #twst Pride and Prejudice AU #ignihyde #calcified writing

119 notes · View notes

prettyfastcars · 26 days

Text

i've got my eye on you | Mob!Oscar

Summary: You work at one of the exclusive clubs he owns, and whenever he visits you can almost physically feel his eyes following you around at all times. But he never talks to you, never flirts, never even tries to do anything. He just… watches. Until one day he decides to make a move and rock your world.

Themes: waitress!reader, mob!oscar, smut, explicit language

He spoke with nobody.

None of the dancers, nor the guards, or the staff.

He had his private booth, his private room at the back, his office even further in the building. He was the owner after all, and he didn’t need to make quick chats with anyone if he didn’t want to.

His reputation preceded him everywhere he went, if it hadn’t one would just think he was a typical broody, quiet, spoiled, old money kid. He had the looks for it. Expensive outfits, watches that cost more than this entire club, the messy yet somehow styled floppy brown hair, the dark eyes, and that pretty boy face that most rich kids have.

Looking at him one wouldn’t think that he was capable of spreading terror, or being cold and ruthless. But he was.

And he always gave you goosebumps. Well, not him but his stare did.

Another thing about your boss, he always, always stared. Never talked to you, never reached out to touch you in any way, never asked you to sit and give him company. He just… watched. His eyes followed you around and he did it so much that you almost always could physically feel his eyes following you around the room.

He always sat in that private booth of his, and watched. He only ever had one request – that you, and specifically you, bring him all his drinks. Whenever any one of your colleagues went up to him, he’d politely turn them away and ask for you.

But he never spoke to you. Not a damn word. In the beginning it annoyed you. His silence. His indifference. The way he could sit there and just look down at everyone else. His dark eyes always looked so… calculating. Like he was always plotting in his mind.

In time though, you got used to it. You understood that maybe he was just reserved and liked being in his own space. Alone. Why he requested for you all the time, that you couldn’t figure out.

You did your job. And his tips were always hefty so you stopped complaining after the first few times. He ended up being part of your routine. You worked overnight, and he would always show up before midnight and would leave in the early hours of the morning – right around the time your shift ended. He’d come to the club every other day, so you saw him quite often during the week.

You’d bring him maybe only around three drinks each night, and he’d spend the remaining time just watching you move around the room as you worked, serving the other clients, making small talks, and gently turning them down whenever anyone flirted with you.

The club was classy, was more posh than any club you’d ever been in. And they had strict policies that protected their staff members. Any loud, misbehaving, or rowdy client was immediately kicked out, but those were extremely rare. Especially when Oscar was around, people tended to be in their best behaviour.

You had just gotten back to the bar after serving drinks. You were in the middle of wiping your metal tray when the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. And those familiar goosebumps erupted all over your arms. It was nice and cool inside, and the revealing outfit you called your uniform – black lingerie under a black see-through mini dress – rarely ever kept you warm but… something in your gut said that it wasn’t the temperature that made you almost shiver.

You turned around immediately and couldn’t help but frown slightly.

It was nearly unnatural to see him leaning against the bar, instead of sitting at his booth like a prince.

“Mr. Piastri,” You stepped closer to the counter, hyper aware of him being on the other side of it. “Something wrong with your drink, sir?” You asked, looking around quickly to see if you could pick up anything.

Everything seemed normal. The club was dimly lit, people mingled in the main area, others gathered in the booths. The dancers took turns performing to sensual music, people conversed in hushed voices. Some moved towards the private rooms, others headed out with people they didn’t come in with. Everything was in order. So why was he here?

“No,” He answered your question in that casually dismissive tone of his. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh. What about?”

He gave you what could only be described as a boyish shrug, and said, “Your shift ends in about twenty minutes, correct?”

You nodded, not letting your confusion show.

Oscar gave you a faint smile. You blinked and it was gone. “Good,” He said, “I’ll wait for you in my room. Come see me when you’re done.”

And with that he left. Leaving you with a racing heart, blinking in confusion as you watched him walk away from the bar, towards the corridors before he disappeared into the darkness.

His room. His room? The VIP room that was always reserved for him. Normally people used those VIP rooms for sex, or any other dark and corrupt transactions they needed privacy for. But Oscar often used it for business. Meetings with his allies, or potential business partners. Like everyone else, you always assumed that his room was strictly reserved for business purposes.

Then why would he ask you to meet him there? You tried your hardest to ignore the way you felt all warm and fluttery at the thought of being in a closed room with him. Away from everyone’s eyes. Alone. In a locked, soundproof room.

The shiver that went through you then wasn’t one caused by fear. And that scared you.

–

You stood in front of the door to his private room and took a deep breath. You eyed the shiny, golden letters spelling ‘VIP’ on the door as you mindlessly tugged on the hem of your short dress. The girls’ uniform here didn’t leave much to the imagination, but it was such a comfortable and safe work environment that you’d never felt even the slightest bit self-conscious before.

But now you did, thinking would he like how you looked? Then you frowned at the thought that crossed your mind. Why do you care what he thinks? He might be handsome and make your heart flutter, but he was still your boss.

Still, your heart pounded as you knocked twice on the door before opening it and stepping into the room.

All the VIP rooms looked the same. High ceilings, dimmed lights and shiny chandeliers, all black walls and black shiny floors. No windows. Black leather couches, and velvety sofas. A bar to the side, and wall on the other side of it was fully covered with gilded mirrors and expensive artwork, making the space look spacious, and luxurious.

And there he was, standing by the bar, making himself a drink. You took a moment to really look at him. Broad shoulders, lean body. That black suit of his moulded perfectly to his muscular arms, and waist. The dimmed lights made his hair look darker, but you could tell they would be a rich brown in daylight.

You cleared your throat because just standing there at the entrance was beginning to feel awkwardly painful.

“There you are,” He spoke without turning around as he focused on the drinks he was making.

The way he wasn’t giving you his full attention made you frown again for just a brief moment. Guess you had gotten used to his eyes being on you and following you around all the time that now that he wasn’t looking at you, it felt dismissive.

“You said to meet you here.”

He turned around to face you then, with the usual rich boy, dark, sombre, and broody look on his handsome face. “I did. Come sit with me.”

He handed you one of the drinks he made as you both settled on the surprisingly comfy leather couch. You were still a little on the edge, given you didn’t know why you were here yet. The worse thought was that maybe you were being fired? But there was no reason to fire you, you did your job well. You had a friendly relationship with all the regulars. You were friends with all the staff members. You did everything.

“Did I do something wrong?” You could help but ask.

Oscar was raising his glass up to his mouth, but your question made him pause and look at you. He tilted his head to the side which might have been adorable had he not been who he is. It was tough to label a man of his magnitude as ‘adorable’.

“No. Why?”

Him being a man of few words was really not something you loved entirely.

“Then why am I here?” You asked.

He gave you a faint smile at that. “I didn’t think it’d be a good idea to talk to you in front of everyone while you were still working.”

“Oh.” You nervously took a sip of the drink he made you. It had no alcohol in it you realised. “What did you want to talk about?”

You were suddenly aware of how close you two were sitting. His thigh brushed against your own, and his body heat was driving you insane. He was in a full suit, no ties of course, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone, while you were in your little see-through uniform. The contrast was making your heart race.

“Us.” He replied.

“Us?”

He placed his drink on the little coffee table before he twisted his body slightly to face you properly. His knee bumped into your leg as he did and you sucked in a shaky breath. Damn him. Why were you so hot and bothered all of a sudden?

One of his arms rested on the back of the leather couch while the other carefully reached out to touch your face. You blinked once, twice. Processing that he was actually touching you.

“How long are we gonna play this little game? Hmm?” His fingers gently traced along your jaw before he lowered his hand. “How long are you gonna pretend you don’t crave my attention? How long do you think I can pretend I’m not dying to have you on my lap?”

You blinked a couple of times again. His words were like a rude awakening. And you found yourself speechless. “I… um, we–,”

“Don’t lie to me.” He whispered, leaning in just enough to whisper into your ear. His addicting cologne was all you could smell. “I’ve watched you long enough to know almost everything about you. I notice the things you do. How you bite your lip, and…” He chuckled, “How you’re clenching your thighs together right now.”

You gasped. You didn’t even realise that you were. You finally looked up from your drink and looked into his dark eyes. Fuck. He was so close. His mouth was so close… those soft lips were so close…

Your heart was pounding even harder now. “Are we… is this– is this allowed?” You whispered, genuine concern lacing your words. He was your boss after all.

It made him laugh. It was rare to see him like this. You were so taken aback by the sound of him laughing that you didn’t even resist when he grabbed your hand and pulled you onto his lap.

You fit so perfectly on his lap. Your hands held onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady while his hands found themselves on your waist. He didn’t pull you any closer, like he was waiting to see your reaction.

You could feel everything. His body heat through the layers of fabric separating you two. The soft material of his shirt against your body. His rough hands caressing and petting your skin. And the very prominent bulge in his pants.

“Of course it’s not allowed.” He said, then added with a smirk, “But I won’t tell if you don’t.”

You couldn’t help but give him a shy smile. You’d be lying if you said you never fantasised about being in this position. You did. More than once. Whenever you’d go up to serve him and he’d be sitting there, manspreading and busy on his phone, while occasionally watching you with his curious eyes. You’d often wonder what it would be like to sit on his lap, but then you pushed the thoughts away like they were nothing but intrusive thoughts.

“I really like you, you know?” He said out of nowhere, his hands leisurely rubbing up and down your hips and thighs. Your short dress was slowly inching up and exposing more of your skin, more for him to touch.

“You don’t even know me.” You tried not to focus too much on how his fingers kept getting closer and closer to your inner thighs, making you want to whine under his touch. Your clothes began to irritate your skin, you wanted it all off.

He gave you a faint smile, “But I watch you.” His hands wandered a bit more ravenously. “I know how you’re never late for your shift.” He leaned in to let his mouth brush against your neck as he spoke. “I know about you always sharing your tips with your coworkers because you know you get more than them.” He lightly kissed his way up to your ear, whispering, “I know about how everyone always has only nice things to say about you.” He kissed his way down to your collar bones again, “I know you helped one of the dancers move out of her old apartment last week.”

“It’s sort of creepy.” You teased him, “That you know all that.” You gasped when the tips of his fingers found their way in between your legs, teasing you through the thin material of your underwear, sending shivers up and down your spine.

“Take it all off.” He said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

It was getting too hot. You wanted him, more than you’d ever wanted anyone before. You looked down into his dark eyes and couldn’t help but do as he asked. You got off of his lap and make quick work of getting out of your clothes before climbing back on his lap, straddling him again.

By the time you’d settled onto his lap again, he’d undone his trousers and freed his cock.

He smirked, leaning back to watch the way you whimpered at the sight of him. “Go on, babygirl. Touch it.”

You kept your eyes on his as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking his cock, making him throw his head back and groan under his breath. Something about being the one doing this to him gave you a sense of bold confidence. It was exhilarating.

“Fuck…” He hissed, “Your hand feels so good.”

You kept moving your hand, learning what he liked, what made him groan and sigh. You liked the sight of his exposed neck. All smooth skin, with some freckles. You couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss his neck, whispering against his soft skin, “I want you.” You kissed your way up to the corner of his mouth. You moved your hand faster then, making him grunt and thrust up into your fist.

Oscar moved his face just barely to the side and surprised you by kissing you hard. You slipped your tongue past his lips and slowly stroked the top of his mouth, feeling him smile into the kiss. He grunted into your mouth, as you rubbed against his clothed thigh. His hands were on you again, rubbing up and down your sides.

“You want it?” He asked.

You nodded quickly.

“Take me then.” He whispered against your mouth, your warm breaths mingling.

You pulled away from the kiss briefly, really looking at him. You saw nothing but desire and lust in his eyes. And you would bet he found nothing else in yours as well.

“Come on, baby.” He whispered, grabbing you by the hips.

You gave him a coy smile before lifting your lower body off his and slowly lowered yourself down on his cock, his grip on your hips guiding you as you went, earning quiet moans and groans out of both of you as you sank down on him.

You felt your body resisting him a little. Oscar felt it too, and an arrogant smirk formed on his pretty face before he held you in place and gently thrust his hips up. Your hands held onto his shoulders again, whimpering as you felt him fill you up.

“Such a good girl for me.” He whispered, leaning in to kiss you again once he was buried deep inside you. His grip around your waist tightened as he tried to get you to fuck yourself on his cock.

“Fuck…” You whined, and when you felt that your body could take it, you moved against him. Lifting your lower body just the slightest, before sliding back down on his cock, you whimpered as he groaned, snug inside of you.

The tip of his cock reaching sensitive places you never knew existed. You took a good look at the man beneath you. His parted lips. His soft mouth. It gave you a warm rush just watching him. Yet again you noted him being fully clothed and your lack of even an inch of fabric on your body. You didn’t care, it turned you on even more.

Especially when he kissed his way down until he easily wrapped his mouth around your nipple, sucking and teasing you until you were moving faster, impaling yourself down on his cock each time.

“These pretty tits have been driving me insane.” He mumbled around your nipple.

You whimpered shamelessly as his hand slipped between the two of you and found your clit, he rubbed it perfectly, lazily. Grunting under his breath as you sped up even more, riding his cock and making him lose his damn mind.

“That’s it, babygirl. Take it, take all of me…”

You were moaning and whining as you took more and more of him, feeling his cock stretched you out each time he filled you up.

His hand circled around your waist and he pulled your warm body closer to his. His mouth moving to your other nipple, driving you crazy. He mostly let you set the pace, only guiding you up and down his cock when you needed him too.

You bounced on his cock moaning and whining, feeling him stretch you out as you stared into his dark eyes. He held you at your waist and rhythmically thrust his hips up each time to match your movements.

He finally kissed his way up your chest again, biting and nibbling on your skin while you rode his cock, “You feel so fucking good, babygirl…” He whispered against your skin about how perfect you felt around him, wet and warm all for him. Kissing up to your face, he panted against your cheek, and gripped your jaw with his hand. “You’re all mine,” He whispered, breathlessly, “All mine.”

You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and he kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came, hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him as you came undone. “All yours…”

You panted and leaned forward, pushing your face into his neck to catch your breath. Oscar came right after you, spilling inside of you, and filling you up as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your trembling body closer to him until you both calmed down and caught your breaths.

“You did so good, baby.” You only whined in response, keeping your head on his shoulder while he gently rubbed your back. “Are you okay?” He asked, kissing the side of your face.

You nodded and murmured a response, making him chuckle.

“Come on,” He said, “I’ll drop you home.”

You smiled against his skin at the sound of that. Pretty sure this wasn’t allowed either but, oh well.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #mob!oscar #oscar piastri x you #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic

832 notes · View notes