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lovezbrownies · 3 months

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Yandere!Chief of Police.

Character: Grim Ludenhart, 32, male, 199 cm/ 6'5 ft.

Pretty mild tbh, not too yandere but there is a future work containing your life with him after where it will be darker hopefully. also my ass did not read through this so whatever mistakes i made please ignore them thanks!

Minors DNI!!

Word count: 1725 words.

Content warning: Lying??, obsession, stalking, abuse of power, age gap (5 years- darling: 27, Grim: 32), implications of criminal activity.

Grim isn’t one for love, even the thought of it was unappealing for a while. Up until he met you. Grim was known to be a stoic man, however stoic he can be he was still extremely approachable. Ironically, Grim doesn’t care for anyone aside from his family. Grim would be less popular if these nobles knew what he actually thought of them, due to his job as Chief of Police, he and the rest of the Board of Chiefs of Xelera are required to attend every event and ball that Queen Nia hosts. Although Grim hates Queen Nia’s events he also likes to attend other events that nobles would host and invite him. He only ever goes there to make sure unnecessarily rich bastards keep up their support of the Police, as well as to maintain a good reputation among the nobles, he needs their support for whenever someone dares threaten his position.

All in all, Grim despises the nobles he’s constantly surrounded by, including the nobles he’d publicly called his friends. Which would be why he found himself here, in a tiny bar, sitting in a tiny booth, his real friends around him, all being middle class “peasants”. He liked it here, he can be the small town boy again with these people. ‘’So he cornered me, and mind you he’s doing all of this over a cake! He goes ‘Well, Grim, good to see you! Uh, you got that cake recipe written down yet?’ Blah blah, this man wouldn’t stop yappin’ i had half a mind to smack him right then and there and tell him my ma made it for me!” A roar of laughter goes off, as the laughing dies down Grim flags down a busser working at the bar. He couldn’t see them all that clearly but who cares, he’s just going to pay and leave after all.

Well, he did care, and so did his buddies as they witnessed Grim become awestruck as he talks with the server, an attractive young thing, possibly mid twenties. “Hello! My name is Y/n, is there anything I can help you with?” They greeted the table with a warm smile, a notepad in hand, waiting to be given orders to fulfill. Grim, awestruck, sat quite for a second before collecting himself when one of the guys he’s sitting next to nudged him. ‘’Ahem, yes, can I pay my bill please? Bill’s name under Greg Hart.” Grim cringed, wishing he hadn’t made up a fake name in this bar, if only he knew there was love around the corner. ‘Ah, giving your fake name to the gorgeous busser, how absolutely romantic!’ Grim chastised himself silently.

You nodded, smile as warm as the summer sun, ‘’Alrighty, I’ll get you your bill, does anyone need anything else however?” Your pretty eyes sadly cut contact with Grim to look at the rest of the table, while Grim had been completely fixated on you, even as you left he couldn’t get his eyes off you, the way your hips move, the way you swiftly move about the tables littered around the bar, the way you lean into the bar counter, the way your head tilts as you presumably ask for a Greg Hart’s check. Grim’s train of thought was caught off as the guy next to him threw their arm around Grim. “Well, looks like Grim isn’t interested in us anymore!” The group laughs heartily and Grim chuckles in embarrassment.

Grim’s been a regular at that particular downtown bar since he’s started Cadet School, which would be now be 14 years ago, as soon as he turned 18 he had applied and gotten accepted. And out of those 14 years, the bar only just started getting better when you started working there. Grim had studied your schedule as well as he could, what shifts you had, whether you were closing or opening on a particular day. He knows everything about you, seriously, when he went to work the next day he managed to find your information after skimming through numerous pictures of other Y/Ns who were not you. Grim isn’t a slacker, so he sent over all of your records to his personal laptop to look at when he gets back home. And oh boy did he look! Grim didn’t leave a single record unread, spending hours going through your school records, your medical records, every job you’ve had, he learnt your family’s history entirely, safe to say he unfortunately missed out on seeing you that day at the bar.

Grim doesn’t like going to the bar during the weekdays because his job has always been top priority, yet here he was, chatting you up on a tuesday, the bar mostly empty as you two talk about everything and anything that comes to mind. At some points you’d get interrupted by another patron requesting help, and when that happens Grim liked to glare at them as hard as he could, eventually most regulars learnt to ask for whatever drink they want at the bar itself. Your boss also tried to lecture you on how you’ve barely been doing your job but one look from Grim had them scurrying away.

He hates the fact you call him ‘’Greg’’, he has been chatting with you for 4 weeks now, although it really is his fault he couldn’t come up with a way to tell you that he gave you a fake name and he is actually a fearsome chief. Don’t get me wrong he has a spectacular reputation, he makes sure to have the people’s best interest at heart, but he doesn’t exactly look friendly, a tired set of lifeless eyes paired with lips that never smile has made people fear meeting him. But that’s okay! You know him now after all, you’ve seen him smile, his eyes still look tired but at least they have light in them now! Maybe you’d be open to him if he told you the truth, maybe you’d love him more if you knew about how much power he has! So, as charmingly as he could, asked if you’d like to come home with him after your shift, you know as friends obviously!

And you, charmed and ever so slowly falling for your favorite regular you agreed to his proposal, what you didn’t expect was finding out your regular was actually a chief, and the Chief of Police no less! You did freak out a little but Gre- Grim had calmed you down, told you he liked you and liked how you acted around him, “You are so cute, why would I keep coming to the bar and talk with you only if I found you disrespectful, hm?” Grim smirked at you, moving from the stove to you, standing to your left he leaned a closer to you, you were seated on his kitchen counter while he was cooking up something, you still weren’t sure what he was making but it was probably good.

You shrug, equally leaning closer to him, “Hm, dunno maybe you wanna eat me or something?” Grim chuckled lightly, a handsome grin on his face as he stared into your eyes, and by heavens was he gorgeous. His gray eyes twinkled under the ambient lights in his kitchen, his eyebags suit him so well it was almost unfair how much they made him even more attractive. “If I wanted to eat you, I would’ve already done so, dear.~” Grim’s voice was soft and smooth, masculine and deep, and oh so alluring. His head tilted slightly to the side, causing his hair to flop as well. You’ve always had this urge to touch his hair, to run your hands through it and put it in various different hairstyles, and so taking your chances you raised your hands up off of the kitchen counter and ran your fingers through his hair. Grim leaned into you, humming he closed his eyes, he seemed so serene like this, and his hair is so soft.

You sat there for a minute or so, just appreciating the man in front of you, still caressing his hair, his eyes closed, it seemed like he was so close to purring like a kitty, “I don’t think I’d mind it if you ate me, at least I’m being eaten by someone I like.” You hummed out quietly, yet this nice moment was cut short by him snapping his eyes open, grabbing the hand caressing his hair he brought it down, a little close to his face, which right now seemed a little pinkier than usual. “Y-you like me?” Your surprise was cut short, you laughed leaning into his shoulder.

“Of course I do! Haven’t you noticed yet? Thought you were smart sir, Chief of Police!” Still leaning into his shoulder you turned your head to have a better look at Grim, and quite frankly seeing him this flustered after watching so many interviews and speeches with Grim being completely expressionless was pure gold. Grim was staring at you, eyes wide but not meeting your own, eyebrows straight up, cheeks pink, and mouth slightly agape. You try to take your hand back so you can caress his hair again, but his grip tightens, seemingly getting out of his trance, Grim collects himself, he looks straight into your eyes, his eyes tender with love, he smiles gingerly, though his cheeks are still pink, it seems he’s gained enough courage to speak now.

Grim shrugged your head off his shoulder, cupping your face with his free hand Grim leaned into you, your foreheads now touching. Grim stares at you, looking deep into your eyes with such love it’s making you feel all types of flustered. “I hope you know I’ve never believed in love at first sight until I saw you, I- Can I kiss you?” Grim’s soft and honeyed words have you completely wrapped around his pinkie, he has now completely captivated your heart. You smile, nodding, mentally begging him to make the move, make you his. Little did you know that the moment he captured your lips onto his own you will forever be his, never being let go, and let’s just hope you don’t find out the things he has done and will do to make sure you stay his.

also bonus image :3

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snailsdraw · 1 year

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[Start ID: 6 pages of HLVRAI narrative doodles about the Science Team's first meeting with the Spore Launcher.

Bubby waves Gordon over to a small lift enthusiastically: "Gordon, come look at what I found! Right this way." Gordon, however, is wary: "I dunno, man. Should I even be trusting you to lead me places? You remember what happened the, uh, buh- the last time, so sue me for having a hard time believing it's safe up there." Bubby gives him a tired look: "Gordon, I've long put that behind me-" "YOU???" Gordon cuts in incredulously, "YOU'VE put-" Bubby ignores him and continues: "And- Yes! I would like if we could get going now."

But they do not get going, because Gordon is now mad. The lift makes its way up without them. "Look, buddy," Gordon starts, trying to keep him volume under control, "I don't know if you think this is some sorts bit? Or me being uncooperative- I am GENUINELY traumatised by what you did. And Benrey. Can't forget him. The fuckin' TWO of you can-" But Bubby isn't having it, and dismissively he says: "Yes, and I apologised. I didn't expect that to happen, you know. I did tell you that." The lift comes back down with a surprised Darnold. "Oh! You guys made it," Darnold says as the lift comes to a halt. Bubby's face brightens as he sees him, and he points out the thing held in Darnold's arms: "Oh good, it's that thing I wanted to show you!" All eyes follow Bubby's finger down the purring lungfish-like alien in Darnold's hands. Gordon is horrified: "What the- what the hell is THAT?? Should we REALLY be touching the weird alien creature- killing machines- in this place- Come on, you guys…"

"Well, y'see, Dr Freeman," Darnold begins matter-of-factly, "those creatures were- y'see, they weren't in tubes. Un-tubed creatures, now they're the ones you gotta look out for. But this one is fine. I should know. I made the potion in the tube I found her in!" Gordons squints at him: "What the hell is he saying?" Bubby's mouth hangs slightly agape. He does not answer. Darnold continues, undeterred: "I recognised it immediately from how I, uh, blacked out for 2 minutes after tasting it." "You WHAT?!!" Gordon yells. Bubby regains his voice. Something Darnold had said about making potions for tubes had left him uneasy. "Darnold, did you aid in my creation?" he asks in a small voice, too quiet to hear over Gordon's volume. "WHY WOULD YOU- You're supposed to-" Gordon stumbles over his words, perplexed by Darnold's actions, "Weren't you, like, terrified of dying just a minute ago- WHY would you drink something you didn't even RECOGNISE??!" "Look-" Darnold tries to interject, but Gordon presses on. "YOU COULD'A DIED, MAN!!" Sensing that Gordon is finally done, Darnold sighs: "Look, I understand your concerns, Dr Freeman, but what IS a scientist if not someone who observes and makes sense of his surroundings?"

Gordon pinches his nosebridge and screws his eyes tight shut: "I dunno…Alive? Usually?" "I do this for a living, you know?" Darnold counters. Bubby folds his arms, unimpressed: "That's no attitude for a scientist, Gordon. How do you think we got so famous as a research facility?" Gordon groans: "From all the shit that's going on now, for sure. The media's gonna run with this for weeks-" He cuts himself off with an exhausted sigh: "I'm done with this conversation." Gordon pulls his hand from his face and gestures to the alien creature in Darnold's arms: "What's, uh, what's that thing you found there, bud? You know it's not dangerous. What else d'you got? Know?" Darnold's eyes wander upwards in thought, stroking the creature absentmindedly: "Well…she didn't try to take my head off when she saw me, that's one. There were two others in the intact tubes nearby. Hers was broken."

As the creature begins to purr under his hand, Darnold smiles slightly: "Oh! And that she seems to enjoy being pet…which was quite surprising." "I couldn't find any written information on their species," he continues, "so I've elected to call them the, uh…Gubbs…after the sound they make." "The Gubbs," Gordon repeats, unsure, "Right, okay-" Bubby raises an accusing eyebrow at Darnold: "That's not what we agreed on." He raises an intelligent finger, recounting: "I remember clearly stating that they looked like mini Hubble Telescopes, and that we named them "Hubbs"." Darnold frowns at him: "I- no, you- I recall no exchange of that nature, Dr Bubby." Overlapping him, but quieter, Gordon mutters: "The Hubb- I mean, I guess? Kinda? But-" Bubby jumps back in to correct Darnold: "Of course, you do! It's much like the James Webb Telescope you kids are more familiar with these days." Gordon freezes.

"Gh- The-" Gordon stutters, and it takes him a moment to find his words, "J-James Webb." Bubby begins to say "Yes", but shuts his mouth right before the word leaves. "James Webb," Gordon continues, shaken, "I'm not trippin', right? He said that. James-" "…yeah, I, uh…" Darnold says, equally at a loss, "…I don't know what that is." Gordon points at Bubby: "How do you know what that is, it's not even-" his voice drops into a harsh whisper, "It doesn't even exist yet??" Gordon sucks in a breath. "Bubby," he tries again, carefully "How do you know what that is?" The old man is silent for a long beat. "Hello, Gordon," Bubby says. The defult NPC dialogue line catches Gordon off guard so hard he wheezes in surprised laughter. "You can't just-" Gordon wheezes for breath. "That's Dr Coomer's line-" As if on cue, the stout elderly scientist appears by Bubby's side. "HELLO, GORDON!" Dr Coomer greets chipperly. Gordon heaves a heavy sigh: "Hello, Dr Coomer…" "Hello, Dr Coomer!" Bubby beams.

End ID.]

Previous parts found here: [Part 1.] [Part 2.]

#ohhh the classic collapsing of time into a singular now. what are they putting in the clocks these days? /j #hlvrai #hlvrai darnold #hlvrai gordon #hlvrai bubby #snail's art #id

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steffigraf · 1 hour

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some challengers thoughts (and major spoilers) under the cut 🎾

first things first: these bitches are Deranged. none of them will be seeing heaven. and i fucking love them lmfao give me that toxic mess !

also i am aware that this is supposed to be a drama but considering i am the master of finding the most irrelevant things hilarious, i was silent laughing throughout most of it lmao. good thing nobody was anywhere near me. but anyway moving on

at the start when tashi chooses the challenger that art will play, i was lmfao-ing at how she was on the atp wta app. like im sorryyyyy but that app is just,,, well. yeah. yall know.

prior to watching btw i had actually read a couple of spoilers & thought dumps on this movie BUT LIKE. NONE OF YALL MENTIONED THE CHILD. THE FUCK. those three fuckers were doing their toxic little mating dance while There Was A Child. brought a new level of fucked up to what they were doing that i truly didn’t expect. hope that kid gets therapy in the future

anyway art at the challenger should’ve had more crazy fans. like as a six time gs champ (who presumably didnt rly have consistent rivals like the big three lmao) he was literally a tennis Star. where are the crazy posters. cut outs of his face. smh he needs more groupies

patrick’s serve kinda reminds me of siniakova’s. anyway i don’t like it smdhdkdjks sorry siniakova but it bothers me how the motion gets cut up instead of being one fluid thing along with the toss. thats kinda just a me thing tho lmao

so the part at the party where those losers just kept awkwardly coming up to tashi? embarrassing tbh. secondhand shame well and truly alive in me

patrick has defo been into art the whole time btw like cmon. when tashi asked if they were a thing and art shot it down asap but patrick hesitated? ohhhh boy

tashi, on the other hand, is fascinating for me cause like. does she really like either of these men? no clue. it seems like she only does when she gets Both of them. which you know what valid i support her and her wrongs etc etc

in the doubles match when they celebrated on top of each other, i think a bunch of ppl in the theater were going all 👀 which i mean sure it’s valid in this case but uh. i was sitting there like that guy at the corner of the party meme thinking “they don’t know tennis players are just Like That actually” (many sports in general actually. the things footy boys do the pitch…… but i digress. still, it was weird to realize that most people are unaware of the homoeroticism of sport. wild!)

emotionally speaking, the thing that hit me the hardest was actually when the tv in the bg started talking abt how that mueller girl won wimby and was basically unstoppable. like the callback is insane and just OUCH it hurt so much because it was so Real imo? like. that is very much a scenario that can and does happen in tennis, and sport in general. there are always the random players who get injured or flop or just randomly retire, and it leaves us wondering: if they had still been at the top of their game, would the face of the sport have changed? so i empathized with tashi’s pain as she saw someone she had considered Below Her now rise to glory that tashi herself would never know. but, as we all know, if if if doesn’t exist. and that’s the thing that pained me the most.

random tinder lady was ridiculous sorry but like patrick literally just told her he was a total loser in tennis and then left her table to talk to another girl. i think she shouldve slapped him the fuck away instead of making out with him lmfao. like girl he is not hot enough for you to ignore the bullcrap. has he even showered. come on.

when tashi and patrick talked tho and she got mad at him for blowing smoke in her face? so real. i approve. i hate secondhand smoke soooo much bleh

that scene where art says he wants to retire and just flops his head on tashi’s lap and asks her to hold him????? only scene that made me feel actual Yearning. like damn get me a babygirl man like that. or let me be someone’s babygirl like that. like platonically or whatever idc just give me those soft touches i want that sensory experience

when tashi asked patrick to throw the match and patrick was like “how could you do this to him?” and basically said that asking that was Worse than her physically cheating on art. loved that shit. i was like damnnnnnnn that’s the all encompassing emotional nature of devoting your life to tennis babey!

in general actually a lot of their lines were soooo snappy and shit and like. i enjoyed that

but honestly my suspension of disbelief was kinda shattered a bit in the arguing in the car scene cause like. i was so fucking stressed. they were driving fast in the middle of a fucking storm at midnight and neither had a seatbelt i think and i swear there was a point where patrick looked at tashi for like five whole seconds while driving. LIKE PLEASE. god. can’t you guys be toxic bitches while obeying traffic rules? 😔

anyway. the camera shots from the floor during the match itself oh my GOD im obsessed. especially during the serve. wish i could gif those. god. yeah. yeahhhhh

speaking of the match though. idk some stuff with the scoring graphic felt off? i got a bit confused at some point. might be imagining it tho lmao

ball perspective was so fucking funny tho. i mean it worked i think but i kept thinking like imagine if we had ballcam with the tour big hitters. poor balls. they go thru so much. may they rest in peace.

when art just fell onto patrick at the end smash im sorry ik that was supposed to be a climax and shit but it was SO fucking funny

and finally: shoutout to art’s dead grandma. she moved the plot in ways she never even knew. legend 🙌🪦🕊️

so yeah i had a Lot of fun! though i truly have NO idea how this movie even looks to people who dont get tennis. or sports in general. must be a hell of a ride lol

(still probably a better intro to tennis than break point)

#again tho. loved spending hours in air conditioning. and that made it extra great for me lmaooo #tennisms

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lazysailor · 4 months

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18 Avery

Avery currently was working on tearing apart a plane that recently came in which after a year has become easy for him to do. Funny enough he decided to stick with his job even though he had the opportunity to switch, he would've liked to join Kayden in food services but he isn't the best cook so he decided to just stay with his current job. He was in the middle of removing one part when one of the new kids came up to him.

“H-Hey I’m having trouble with this one part..Can you help me.?” The shy new kid asks him.

Avery gives them a kind smile.

“Of course, let's see what's up with it.” He says as he starts to follow the kid with his wrench.

Avery had learned over the past few months that he's actually well known across the graveyard which he finds funny because usually if you're well known you're usually a trouble to other people. But nobody had seemed to talk negatively about him or treat him like some kind of threat which he was thankful about.

They both make it over to the part the kid was stuck with.

“Oh it's those pain in the ass parts.” Avery says under his breath.

“Don't worry, these are hard to remove at first, but over time they get easier to deal with.” He says to the shy kid.

“So what should I do.?” The kid asks him.

“Here let me show you.” He says.

Avery had also learned the reason why he was so well known was his helpful nature and extroverted personality. Also because some of the people here consider him attractive, which he tends to ignore because he doesn't try to let that kind of stuff fill his mind.

He finishes helping the shy kid with that certain part and he heads over back to his area. When he goes back to work he takes a quick look at his bracelet on his left wrist that Kayden made him one day. She told him she only did it because she was bored and had free time but he knew she just did it as a sign of saying ‘thank you’. Avery is honestly surprised he managed to be friends with Kayde after a whole year but he figured that's just what happens when you're stuck with someone for a long time, you just can't seem to leave them.

Avery sat up after removing his final piece of that plane when he suddenly heard a familiar voice.

“Whatcha doing?” Ryder asks him

Avery slightly jumped from suddenly hearing him, he seemed to pop out of nowhere.

“Jesus you scared me, what are you even doing here?” He asks Ryder.

“Oh I'm just on my break and I figured I would see you!” He tells Avery.

Avery felt flattered that Ryder decided to talk to him out of all people.

“Well uh thanks for wanting to talk to me.” He says while he felt a surge of embarrassment wash over him causing his cheeks to slightly blush.

“So how's that new job of yours going along since you don't serve food anymore.?” Avery asks Ryder.

“Oh right, the chickens, they're doing well! It reminds me of when I worked on the ranch.” He tells him.

Avery kinda forgot Ryder used to live on a ranch, he should've remembered since when they met he kept on talking about it and how amazing it was. It made him question why such a talkative and kind guy like Ryder would be sent to be unwound.

“This may be abrupt but you never told me why you were sent to be un-” Avery tries to ask Ryder, but he ends up being cut off by him.

“Whoops you meant how I was doing. I'd say I'm really good with it and Drake, the guy who manages all those crops and chickens, is a real nice guy.” Ryder tells Avery.

“But you never answered my-” Avery tries to remind him but he gets cut off again.

“Speaking of my job, I better start heading back!” Ryder says as he starts to walk away.

“I'll cya later Ave!” He tells Avey as he waves him goodbye.

Avery gives a small wave goodbye once his back is turned. It was odd for Ryder to not answer any questions, but he knew the subject of Unwinding as a whole can be sensitive for some people.

Later that night Avery lays in his uncomfy bed in the guys jet, which has some kind of cheesy name he doesn't remember. He can't make himself fall asleep because he has one person in his mind, Ryder. He thinks over his conversation with him today and how odd he was when he didn't answer any question related to why he was sent to be unwound, but there was also another reason why he couldn't stop thinking about him..Avery had fell for him over the course of a year, he promised himself that he wouldn't fall for anyone while he here at the graveyard. But he can't stop himself from daydreaming of himself cupping Ryder’s freckled face and kissing him, hell he even catches himself staring at Ryder and his Murree colored eyes. Avery buries his head into his pillow as he feels his face heating up, he wants to get rid of this crush so mad but at the same time he wants to spend more time with Ryder.

Maybe he would find some time soon to help Ryder at his job..

#unwind #unwind dystology #unwind fanfic

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svturn-exe · 9 months

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some snipes info bc i love that guy <3 long post under the cut !

⚡ sniper's trenchcoat is missing the left arm. this has a practical purpose (not getting in the way of his weapon arm) but is also a reference to his sexuality, being a gay man. literal cut-sleeve

⚡ his grasp on things like morality and social convention is tenuous at best. sniper was created somewhere in the ballpark of a week before the apocalypse, so he didn't have much time to spend around people in a "normal" environment then of course everything goes to shit and the chaos brings out the worst in most people. sniper spends somewhere around 50 years around the gradually dwindling human population, during which he really gets to see some of the worst of what humanity has to offer. he eventually had enough of this (read: "if it sucks, hit da bricks") and went on his own way, mostly ignoring and avoiding other people (human, machine, & synthetic alike) for another ~100 to 150 years

⚡ snipes got the grand majority of his scars during those 50 chaotic years immediately following the end of the world, including the injury that stripped a lot of the skin and muscle from his jaw & lower cheek area

⚡ he has difficulty emoting because a lot of the muscles that would control facial movement (the bottom half of it, anyway) are either damaged or completely gone. he can move his upper lip, but not much. most of sniper's emoting is done via eyes & brows

⚡ sniper clacks/snaps his teeth when he's angry. it IS a threat, and will often be the last warning you get to back off before you get the electric chair treatment (thank u to michael for the idea :3)

⚡ it's also difficult for sniper to clearly pronounce some sounds, and he just straight up can't produce 'm' or 'p' sounds because he doesn't have a bottom lip to use

⚡ i mentioned in the tags of another post that sniper gardens when he isn't electrocuting people. basically, while exploring the ruins of a city, he happens upon a lab/bunker, and inside he finds these rows of pods. inside these pods are human children in suspended animation, locked away by their parents who were hoping to spare them the worst of the calamity in the hopes that things would get better one day. sniper decides they can wait a little longer. it'll be hard enough for them, waking up 200 years in the future with their families all gone, but there's no reason they should then also have to live in a destroyed scarred wasteland. so he makes it his mission to green up this city and make it a nicer place to live :] i'm sure his methods for doing so will be very normal and not at all kind of fucked up! ⚡ sniper kills his fellow organic machines & synthetics to harvest their "hearts" to use to power drones he pieces together to assist in the task of tending to the city garden. this is what i meant when i said he electrocutes peopl e

⚡ eventually, kitbash (another oc i have to draw eventually .) shows up at the city garden and while she's marveling at the patches of greenery in an otherwise barren waste, sniper tries to kill her. they're pretty much at a stalemate because girlie is an engineer/mechanic. she's Strong ok. eventually she says the magic words that prompt snipes to stop trying to kill her and start trying to give her a tour and showing her how everything works :) the whiplash doesn't kill her but it comes close. they get to the part where sniper tells her the garden is powered by peoples' hearts and she says that's fucking stupid you're stupid there are better ways to do this shit I'm Taking Over. and sniper goes uh . ok??

⚡ one day sniper finds an artificial (human) heart in an old world hospital and decides he can do something with this! people are apparently not typically ok with being killed (oops) and while the majority of the bodies of the organics & synthetics he wrecked to harvest their cores are in Very bad shape, there has to be enough usable material between them to mash them together and make a New one. this is a great idea i'm sure

⚡ sniper pieces a bunch of salvaged parts together into a new body, puts the artificial heart in there, and as he's getting ready to dr frankenstein that bitch kit walks in and is like . why the Fuck are you making. weird corpse effigies in here and sniper goes oh that's a wonderful name for them actually ^_^ and eletrocutes the body until it wakes up and that's how effigy is born

⚡ snipes' weapon arm can grow back if it is cut off, but it'd hurt like hell and he would prefer not to have to go that

⚡ sniper's body produces an immense amount of bio-electricity that he must discharge periodically or else risk causing damage to himself or his surroundings in the event of violent accidental discharges. the nerves in sniper's arms are mutated & highly specialized

⚡ he can project electricity from his hands over distances of up to 50 yards, but it's definitely a lot less precise. it's definitely at its most effective when he can physically get his hands on whatever - or whoever - and just really pump it full of volts

⚡ his body is adapted to be able to handle a ton of volts, but he's only resistant, NOT immune. if sniper goes overboard he can seriously fuck himself up

#svturn's ocs #ocverse: vector #oc: v sniper #oc: v kitbash #oc: v effigy

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sunsburns · 3 months

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kiss of life (i.)

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader

summary: in a universe where soulmates are interlinked by shared pain (senses) and emotions, luke castellan refuses to have anything to do with his soulmate because of what it did to his mother, but he can't ignore fate.

—or: luke castellan and the soulmate he never wanted.

word count: 4.03k

part two!!

warnings: suppperrr angsty, luke castellan pov, long reading time, descriptive injuries, blood, pre-tlt, luke is a dick, annabeth carries her 5 seconds of screen time, there's no happy thoughts in this whatsoever, slight reader pov during capture the flag, i lowkey messed up but whatever!!

a/n: i wanted to make a cute lil fic for valentines day but uh... that didn't happen. this will definitely be a two (maybe 3) part fic so pls bear with me guys. this is based on this request! (sorry i babe this probably isn't what you expected). i'm working on a tag list! lmk if you wanna be added! make sure your tags are on

Luke Castellan had always known of soulmates, a covenant bestowed by the goddess Aphrodite after Zeus' condemnation. In this tapestry of fate, each person had a counterpart, a soulmate crossing the expanse of the world in search of their other half. Aphrodite offered the assurance as an unspoken promise that no soul would tread the journey of life alone.

It was undeniably a blessing, an ethereal gift from the divine.

However, within the enchanting threads of destiny lay the knots of a curse, a double-edged sword cutting through the hearts of those entangled in its mystic web.

If caught in a love affair with the gods themselves, to have a soulmate is to be cursed.

It is a curse.

To be bound by an unseen force to another being carried the weight of uncertainty. The love meant to be shared might be misplaced, bestowed upon one undeserving of such devotion. The anticipation of finding one's missing half, the yearning for completion, came with the haunting possibility of realizing your soulmate is a terrible person (or a god).

Luke Castellan, haunted by the thought of his own mother's despair, struggled with the contradictory idea of soulmates.

He had witnessed the agony of misplaced trust, the shattered promises of an everlasting bond that crumbled into abandonment. The bitter taste of reality lingered in his memories, and he found solace in mistrust. The once-a-believer had been wounded by the fickleness of fate, and the shards of shattered hopes had left him jaded.

For Luke, the concept of soulmates had become a distant echo, a melody drowned in the clamour of broken vows. The elaborate dance of destiny, with its promises of eternal love, had left him disillusioned and wary.

The mere thought sends shivers down his spine. There was a time when the uncertainty of meeting his soulmate fueled his excitement, the prospect of finding the one who could empathize with his scars and decipher the intricate labyrinth of his thoughts. But it all crumbled under the weight of bitter revelations. It was all from a time before he understood the depths of his father's betrayal of his once hopeful mother.

May Castellan, who, like her son, had yearned for the embrace of a soulmate, had fallen victim to the callous actions of the gods, of Hermes. The invisible bond that tethered her to a true soulmate, forever elusive, disintegrated into ash as Hermes, with deceitful promises, claimed her love, gave her a child, and then abandoned her.

Hermes, in the eyes of Luke, was never deserving of the love May once held for him. The curse woven by him and Aphrodite condemned not only May but every parent of Half-Bloods, forcing them to lose their soulmates the moment they fell for a god unbeknownst to them. A life of loneliness, unless deemed worthy of a second chance.

The wicked curse that hangs like a shadow. Luke harbours a desire to curse each deity responsible, yearning to reverse the relentless march of time and rescue his mother from the clutches of an ill-fated love. His gut turns to spare himself from the knowledge that his soulmate is burdened with every ache in his bones, every cut against his skin, every burn etched into his soul, and all the hatred festering within his heart.

A bound linkage to someone unseen, someone he wishes never to encounter, so he can evade the piercing gaze that would reflect the damage he unwittingly wrought upon their shared destiny. The very thought of this entwined fate, tinged with regret and resentment, casts a dark pall over Luke's existence.

He had never desired to cross paths with you, and he dreaded the thought of it, actually. And now, in the cruel twist of fate, he is intimately acquainted with every nuance of your existence. The touch of your hands lingers on his skin, your smile etches itself into his mind, and he has meticulously memorized every curl and detail of your hair.

Luke hates himself because of it.

Even before he met you, he sensed the gentleness that resonated within your heart during the quiet hours of the night. In the shadows of darkness, he felt the healing energy from you, mending his wounds with an invisible touch. The cuts on Luke's skin were yours as much as they were his. The unspoken link between your souls allowed him to witness the subtle acts of kindness, and Luke grapples with the conflict between the soft purity he perceives in your heart and the darkness he knows resides within his own.

Luke reluctantly admits that meeting you has broken down the barriers he built against the concept of soulmates. He sought refuge in the hectic pace of camp life, immersing himself in caring for the needs of others and teaching classes nonstop. The hope was to drown out the impending meeting, to avoid the inevitable collision with the person he believes is destined for a lifetime of torment, told to love a fractured soul like his own.

He battles against the current of fate, fearing that he, like his father, will ruin someone deserving of far more than what he is willing to give. Luke Castellan, with his decaying and rotten heart, grapples with the impossibility of being loved the way a soulmate should be.

Luke used to avoid the infirmary as if it were a contagious plague. He observed other campers entering with the innocent thoughts of treating their injuries, only for some (most) to depart, hands entwined with another camper bearing matching scars.

At Camp Half-Blood, discovering your soulmate was a rare alignment of stars and celestial threads. However, if one dared to tread the delicate line of hope the best place to look in was the sanctuary where most children of Apollo thrived—the infirmary, a haven where wounds were healed, and the whispers of shared pain lingered in the air.

Knowing himself, Luke carried the confidence that his soulmate must be among the group who spent hours of the day in the infirmary. The persistent pain in his body, a result of late-night training sessions when the cloak of darkness allowed him to unleash a more violent, heartless side with his sword, left an indelible mark on his consciousness.

If he aches, you ache with him.

And as you used to pass your days with the intent of healing, he embarked on a self-destructive journey. Rest remained elusive, sleep a forgotten companion, all of it was a relentless chase of distraction from you before even meeting you. It was excessive, and he knew it.

The awareness that he shared hurting wounds and silent pain with a soulmate haunted him long before he set foot in camp. But the realization of you being so close scared him, and it came swiftly when the first breath of the air in the camp seemed to carry a lighter touch than anywhere else, his bruises throbbed less, and the sting of cuts transformed into a light buzz, resonating with the rhythmic pound of his heart. He was fourteen years old when he realized his soulmate wasn't as far away as he thought.

Yet, despite this, Luke avoided any acknowledgment of you. He dismissed the whispers from those who bore similar bloody knuckles or heard rumours of others awakening with jabs on their arms, reminiscent of his own accidental self-inflicted cuts while sharpening his sword. The passage of time at camp became a delicate dance of evasion, each day spent in a fervent hope to remain blissfully unaware of the person who mirrored his wounds and pain.

Driven by guilt and fear, Luke deliberately sidestepped any potential encounters with his soulmate. His days were crafted meticulously to maintain this distance.

And it worked.

At least for a while.

Until the fatal return to camp after a failed quest, a burden placed on him by his father. Hopes and ambitions lay crushed and battered, and Luke's spirit shrunk from the pitiful gazes of other campers and the wallowing anger toward his father grew.

Annabeth ushered him to the infirmary the moment she laid eyes on him.

And for once, Luke never fought her against it.

There, in the quiet confines of the healing haven, Luke sat in a vulnerable silence. His head hung low as an older Apollo child skillfully stitched up the wound on the side of his face, wrapping it to keep it from infections as it healed. By then, tears had become a rarity for Luke, but that night was an exception. When the son of Apollo left the cabin, he could feel them stream down his cheeks, the ache in his chest returning as he sobbed into his hands.

At that moment, he felt like a child again, hiding in his bedroom, hiding anywhere he could; under his bed, in his closet, locked in the bathroom. He only ever wanted his mom. He was scared, fear gripped him, in his heart, and he wanted his mom to hold him and reassure him that everything was okay and that the monsters were only from the stories. That they'd never hurt him. But May Castellan was the one who-

"You're Luke, right?"

He was snapped back to the present as he heard the soft voice, a gentle interruption to the echoes of his past. A pair of old shoes appeared at the foot of his bed, their white socks and lace trim capturing his attention.

Initially, he assumed it might be a random camper stuck on bed rest offering words of encouragement or recognition for his efforts on the quest. Maybe even a pat on the back. However, the soothing tone and genuine concern prompted his clenched fists to uncoil.

Luke looked up with rosy cheeks and glossy eyes, unable to hide the traces of his tears. There you stood, the toe of your right shoe tracing patterns on the floor.

Despite the weariness, a glimmer of hope shone in your eyes as you tilted your head and softly spoke his name again.

The world seemed to... stop. Luke felt himself sinking into the soft mattress, softer than the one on his bed in Hermes' cabin. Tunnel vision enveloped him, rendering him oblivious to the lingering ache on the side of his face, the lingering humiliation, and even his festering hatred toward his father. For that fleeting second, he was acutely aware of nothing but you and the rhythm of his heart, pounding against his ribcage.

He tried to stop staring, but it was difficult. Your eyes, filled with curiosity, roamed across his face, and his figure, before finally settling on his gaze. Luke felt the pull, a silent exchange. You raised your chin ever so slightly, an uncertain smile etched on your lips as if grappling with the urge to ease his pain without knowing how.

Luke couldn't help but think that you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

"Hi." You say, voice quiet. It felt familiar, and Luke found himself sitting up, his body finally coaxed back to life. A soft wave accompanied your introduction, and you shared your name.

He repeated it, savouring the sound of it. Luke nodded, clearing his throat before finally acknowledging, "Yeah, I'm Luke." As you looked at him, a sense of familiarity lingered in your gaze, prompting him to question, "Have we met before?"

Considering the number of Half-Bloods at camp, he might have seen you in passing and might have heard your name in others' conversations. He wasn't surprised when you shook your head. "No, I don't think so. Not officially at least."

Gratitude flooded him as you refrained from prying into his well-being or questioning the details of his quest. It was as if you inherently knew not to press him. Yet, there was an undeniable shift in your demeanour.

It only took a few more seconds for it to click.

Alarms started to ring in Luke's head as you tucked strands of hair behind your ears, revealing your full face. A jolt of realization struck him like a punch to the stomach. His gaze fixated not on you but on the healing stitches adorning the right side of your face — eerily similar to the ones he had recently received, wrapped and hidden to ward off infections.

His stare shifted from you to the delicate ridges of your skin, where the cut appeared in far better condition than his own. A pang of bitterness surfaced as he realized you had tended to your injury promptly, unlike him, a failure who had journeyed back to camp shrouded in defeat, covered in grime, sweat, blood, and tears.

Your cut would heal nicely, leaving behind a faint scar visible only under the summer sun's ray in the camp. Meanwhile, Luke knew his own would bear the mark of an ugly scar, a haunting reminder of his losses, of his anger, of how he hated pieces of himself and every piece of the gods. But in between, Luke liked to think of how in the summer months, your matching scars would serve as a silent testament to your contrasting yet interlinked connection as...

Oh.

Oh, no.

You seemed on the verge of saying something, brows creased, a nervous laugh bubbling within you, but Luke avoided meeting your eyes. The unspoken sentiment hung in the air, clear as day, and he didn't need you to say it.

He could almost picture you then, collapsing, your skin tearing as Ladon dug his claws into Luke's face. The echoes of your screams intertwined with his own, and the lingering pain painted a vivid tapestry of shared suffering. It struck him — you never deserved the consequences of his failed quest.

The weight of having Luke as a soulmate felt like an inescapable curse, a burden you never asked for. It was a curse he never wanted to bestow upon anyone, especially you. In the sheer minutes of meeting you, he already felt that you deserved better.

The day had already unravelled into a series of unfortunate events — a failed quest, pitiful glances, and now, an encounter with a soulmate. While others might interpret this moment of fate as the gods offering forgiveness for his quest's failure, Luke perceived it as a cruel mockery. The gods, it seemed, were determined to make him hate them.

When his eyes finally met yours, he was taken aback by the kindness reflected in them. There was no trace of hatred, despite the bodily harm he had indirectly inflicted upon you. A part of him hoped that, in time, you would come to despise him enough for Aphrodite to redirect the course of your fate, steering you toward a soulmate other than Luke.

But she didn't.

And he refused to talk to you since.

When he woke up the next morning, you were there, sitting by the bed nearby, reading a book quietly. When you saw him awake, already looking your way, you seemed to brighten in a way that he could think the sun looked like until he met you. Before you could say anything, he turned the other way.

You got the hint and let Luke settle with the newfound information placed upon the two of you. You gave him time. Surely, he'd come around eventually.

But hours turned to days, and days turned to weeks and you were sure he could feel the way your heart sank every time he'd leave the room the moment you entered. He never gave you a chance.

Luke was being an asshole and he knew it. But it was complicated and the root of it all made his head spin. You started to cloud his judgement and change his beliefs, and he'd only spoken three words to you at most. What kind of sick and twisted fate was this?

Before, glimpses of you were brief and fleeting, mere blurs in the edge of Luke's attention. He could have sworn he spotted you in the company of Silena Beauregard and Piper McLean, and that led him to assume that you were, ironically, a daughter of Aphrodite.

But now, you seemed to be everywhere, appearing in every corner of camp.

You were there by the strawberry fields when he searched for solace. At the lake, you were teaching the youngest campers how to swim, a nurturing figure amidst the laughter and splashes. Even at the Dining Pavilion, he couldn't escape the proximity of you and your friends, sitting so close to his own table.

Luke pretended not to notice the soft smile you sent his way, a silent plea for acknowledgment. Instead, he rose abruptly. Luke retreated to the ritual of burning offerings without uttering a word and left, ignoring the way your eyes followed.

The ache in his chest intensified with each passing moment, and it made him wonder if he could die from the heartache of avoiding his soulmate. Surely, it wouldn't kill him, Luke told himself, his mother was still alive, wasn't she?

Throughout late spring and into the swelting days of summer, you saved time to break through Luke's walls, to get him to talk to you. You couldn't fathom the idea of having a soulmate so near, let alone hate for reasons unknown to you.

One day, you cornered him admits the chaos of Capture the Flag, the end of your sword at his chest. Up close, he noticed the subtle differences in your demeanour - the determination hidden beneath your helmet, the armour wrapped tightly around you, the clinking of metal as you moved.

Instinctively, Luke reached for his sword.

But to his surprise, you made no move to attack. You only wanted to talk.

"There's nothing to say," Luke shrugged, his tone guarded. "Unless you want to surrender your flag."

"That's not what I want to talk about," you countered, your voice firm yet tinged with an edge of annoyance. It was a change from the shy and nervous tone you had shown in the infirmary months ago, or during your previous attempts to confront him.

He shifted uncomfortably, his grip tightening on the handle of his sword. You removed your helmet and placed it by your feet, the vibrant red feathers stark against the lush green grass, and you rose to your full height and met Luke's gaze.

"Luke," You started.

"No," he interjected, defensive as if the mere sound of your voice threatened to unravel him completely.

"I didn't even say anything."

"I know what you're going to say."

You tilted your head in a gesture of inquiry. "I thought you said there was nothing to talk about?"

Your words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Luke withdrew his sword, taking a step back to maintain distance between you. With a firm grip on his weapon, he pointed it in your direction, it clashed against the blade of your own, a warning to keep your distance.

Undeterred, you persisted, unwilling to let him slip away without a fight. "You're my soulmate, Luke."

He shook his head dismissively. "You don't know that."

In response, you scoffed, pointing to the thin line that mirrored the scar he hid beneath his helmet. "I don't?" you countered, your tone laced with incredulity.

Your scar had indeed healed beautifully over the summer, unaffected even by the harsh rays of the sun. It adorned your face like a badge of resilience, a mark of strength that Luke couldn't help but envy. To him, it only served as a reminder of his own perceived flaws - a source of insecurity and self-doubt.

"You can't keep ignoring me," you persisted, taking a step closer to him, your determination unwavering. "At least tell me why. I don't blame you for the pain you've caused, Luke. So, stop looking so guilty when you see me."

Luke remained stubborn, his resolve unyielding. Without warning, he lunged at you, his sword poised to strike.

Startled, you stumbled back, your own sword drawn instinctively in defence. While your prowess with a sword may not have been the greatest, you held your own, maintaining a defensive stance against his relentless onslaught.

"Why are you so against it?" you pressed, your voice tinged with frustration. "Do you not believe in soulmates? What are you so afraid of?"

Luke grunted in response, pulling back when you pushed him away, his expression unreadable as he turned his back to you.

Left standing there, feeling utterly hopeless, you tightened your grip on your sword, its weight heavy in your hand. "Is it me?" you questioned softly, the weight of rejection bearing down on you.

To be rejected by a soulmate was a rare occurrence, one usually shrouded in untold reasons and unspoken pain. Yet, as Luke kicked your sword away and forced you to surrender for the remainder of the game, compelling you to raise a white flag in defeat, you couldn't shake the nagging doubt that perhaps Aphrodite had been mistaken.

Luke had seen it reflected in your eyes – that deep-seated fear of being unwanted. It was a fear he knew all too well, one that had haunted him every time he caught his own reflection in the mirror. However, you never brought yourself to believe in a mistaken fate, clinging to the hope instilled in you by your mother's unwavering faith.

You signed up for counsellor activities you don't usually take on, hoping for a chance to engage with Luke, but time and again, it was Chris who appeared in his place, offering apologetic smiles and half-assed excuses for Luke's disappearances. As a last resort, you left a note attached to the sheath of his sword.

He had found it hours after sword practice, long after the clang of blades had ceased and the eager shouts of campers had faded into the twilight. The training grounds lay deserted, bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun as its golden rays cast long shadows across the empty expanse. He looked for you in his surroundings, but you were nowhere to be found.

In the note, you'd asked him to meet you by the lake the next full moon. You pleaded for an opportunity to talk, no snarky comments, no sarcastic jabs, no running away. You only wanted to understand why he had been avoiding you. You told him you'd wait for him by the dock.

And you did.

The moon cast its light upon the waters, and you waited patiently, the soft ripples of the lake lapping gently at the shore. The night air was cool and crisp, carrying with it a hint of anticipation that mingled with the rustle of leaves in the nearby trees. You hugged yourself tightly, a futile attempt to ward off the chill that crept beneath your skin.

Hours passed in silence, the passage of time marked only by the soft murmur of the water and the distant call of nocturnal creatures. Yet, despite the solitude that enveloped you, you remained steadfast in your guard, your determination (or perhaps stubbornness) unwavering.

Luke stood by the shadows of the treeline, clutching the note you had left tightly between his fingers. From there, he watched you sitting alone by the docks, a lone silhouette against the moonlit expanse of the lake. He felt a pang of guilt tug at his heart as he watched you shiver in the night breeze, the weight of your unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

For a fleeting moment, he contemplated approaching you, the urge to bridge the growing chasm between you almost overwhelming. Yet, as uncertainty clouded his thoughts, he hesitated, paralyzed by his own insecurities and fears.

In the end, Luke made his choice. With a heavy heart, he tossed the note, watching as it fluttered to the ground. With a sigh, he turned and retreated into the darkness, seeking solace in the shelter of Hermes's cabin, leaving you by the water's edge.

He knew then that he'd been right: to have a soulmate is to be cursed, and you eventually were to realize that you cannot love a fractured soul like his own, even if it was what the Fates had in store for you, it only led to despair.

part two // masterlist

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lotus-flowerz · 3 years

Note

hello hello I love your writings so far sobs I couldn't help but do an ask myself aa (it's my first ask ever help hwkajd) could I request perhaps gn reader that flinched away from the boys by reflex? (preferably with Diluc, Kaeya and Kazuha but you can add or remove someone if you want to!) like they were hanging out and reader was lost in thoughts and suddenly when they see in the corner of their eyes how the boys raise their arm for smth reader quickly raises their arms above their own head to protect it- how would they react and how would they comfort the reader? I hope it's not too much or if you're uncomfortable with it you can ignore it if you want to whaaaa

AHHH TY IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY WRITING! i actually do this too, some of my old friends would make fun of me for it, so i hope that my writing here is accurate >.<

i also added beidou in here, hope you don't mind, i just had to since she's my favorite character <3

TW!! FLINCHING, ANXIETY, PAST TRAUMA, MENTION OF DEATH AND INJURIES

SLIGHT INAZUMA ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS

KAEYA BACKSTORY SPOILERS

The cherry blossoms fell silently from the trees under which you and Kazuha were sitting. Those had remained unchanged since you and Kazuha were children. The beauty of the pink blossoms falling towards the green earth without a care.

It had remained the same through the vision hunt decree, through the war, through watching Tomo get killed by the shogun, through both of you getting injured during said fight. Kazuha's hand was burnt from Tomo's vision, and your body had a large scar running from your knee to the side of your neck from a stray bolt of lighting from Tomo's divine punishment. If not for Kazuha's determination to not lose another friend and Beidou and her crew caring for you, you would be dead.

These days, although you and Kazuha both carried the same trauma, he seemed to be doing leaps and bounds better than you were. Your eyes flitted to Kazuha, who was writing poetry. The only sound that could be heard was his pen gliding across the paper, filling it with his eloquent words that always seemed to flow so smoothly.

You were deep in thought, when out of the corner of your eye you spotted something coming towards your face. Instinctively, your hands flew out to shield yourself, leaving a very confused Kazuha, who was only scratching his head, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

"Dove.. did you think I was going to hurt you?"

You slowly lowered your arms, guilt washing over you.

"No! It's just- sometimes, when movements are too sudden.. I.. you know, I try to protect myself because uh.."

His eyes drifted to your scar, then looked up at your face, only to find it tilted to the ground. He put a finger under your chin, bringing your eyes up to meet his, then kissing your forehead.

One hand snaked around your waist while the other traced lightly over your scar, sending shivers down your spine. You wrapped your arms around him as well, putting a little of your weight onto him.

He kissed your lips, squeezing you tight against him.

"I'll never let anyone hurt you again. I promise."

"Kazuha, it's not-"

"I know it's not my fault. And I know I couldn't have prevented it. But I promise you, you're safe now."

He brought his hand up to cradle the back of your head as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"Thank you." you said, squeezing him a little tighter.

"No need to thank me. I love you, Y/n."

"I love you too, Kazuha."

You had been a part of Beidou's crew for just over a year now, after meeting her in the wharf of Liyue harbor after finally finding the courage to leave your abusive and toxic partner. You didn't have a place to stay and you were clearly distraught, so when she asked if you were okay and you immediately began to cry, she offered you to come on her ship. You trusted her, since she was the well-known captain of the Crux. After you had explained your situation, she offered you to join her crew. You agreed, and began dating her about six months after joining the Crux.

Because you had been aboard the Alcor for a year, you knew the crew was loud and prone to get drunk. You had never liked to drink, preferring to quietly sip a small glass of dandelion wine while sitting next to Beidou while she drank a few beers and talked with her crew.

It was now the one year anniversary of when you had left Liyue Harbor, and conveniently, the Alcor was anchored there for a bit for a supplies run, imports drop off, and exports pickup. While out and about with Beidou, you had seen your ex in the wharf. They were about to come and talk to you, when you had pointed them out to Beidou. Beidou had slipped her arm around your waist, glaring at your ex, who glared back and turned heel to walk away.

Now, you sipped your wine beside Beidou, deep in thought. The loud atmosphere wasn't helping your anxieties, and you couldn't get your ex's glare out of your head. You didn't even realize you were completely zoned out until Beidou raised her arm to sling it around your shoulders, after she noticed you were zoned out.

Your arms flew up to shield yourself, and you spilt wine all over the both of you. The cup clattered to the floor, but luckily no one else noticed what just happened.

Beidou's face dropped and she quickly picked up the cup, setting it back down on the table.

"Men!" she called out. "Y/n and I are turning in early tonight! Make sure you scallywags have this cleaned up by the morning!"

The crew cheered their goodnights, raising their beers to their captain and her first mate. Beidou smiled, slipped an arm around your waist, and led you back to your guys' shared quarters.

"Alright doll, what happened just now?"

She closed the door behind her and sat on the bed next to you, looking at you with a certain softness that made you melt.

"I'm.. I'm sorry, I was just thinking of my ex, and how we saw them earlier, and I couldn't get their glare out of my head.. and I left them exactly a year ago.. I don't know why I flinched away from yo-"

Beidou cut you off by taking both of your hands into hers.

"Y/n, don't say sorry! You know, your ex wouldn't stand a chance against even my weakest crew member. They will never hurt you again."

"I don't doubt that for a second," you said, a small smile growing on your face, "Thank you for taking me in, Beidou."

"No, the pleasure is all mine. I couldn't ask for a better first mate. You're safe now, okay?" she smiled, squeezing your hands.

You looked into her eyes for a moment before throwing your arms around her. She squeezed you back, kissing your head.

"C'mon, let's shower and get this wine off of us." she giggled.

You laughed. "Yeah, let's."

Kaeya had told you his backstory, but you never mentioned yours. You just weren't ready to talk about it. Your parents had never been great, you always walked on eggshells around everyone, and everyone was all too rough with you, emotionally and physically.

You had met Kaeya in the tavern one night, while trying to drink away what you were feeling. Kaeya had noticed how obliterated you were and let Diluc know he was taking you to stay at the Knights Headquarters, and would keep an eye on you. The rest was history, and now you and Kaeya had been dating for a little over a year.

Kaeya had told you his backstory on Monday. That same day later on, you had a run in with your parents at Blanche's, where they had yelled at you for deciding to become a Knight, and proceeded to pick you apart from your very core.

In turn, you had been drinking a little more than usual for the entire week. You seemed more withdrawn and just not fully there. And it all came to a head when you were laying in bed next to Kaeya.

He went to put his arm over you, a loving gesture, but your arms came up on instinct to shield yourself. He sighed loudly.

"You're scared of me."

"Oh Archons- I didn't mean to- no, I swear it isn't-"

"You've been acting all angry and cold ever since I told you about my roots. I thought you would be the one who didn't leave me after I told them."

"No, Kaeya- please, just let me explain!"

"I'm listening."

You began to hesitantly tell him about your parents. His face grew angrier and angrier every time you told him another thing your parents had done to you.

"I'll kill them. I had no idea that that happened though. I'm sorry for assuming."

"It's alright, Kaeya. I didn't even consider that you might think I was acting weird because of where your confession."

"I swear they'll never get near you again, alright? You're safe now. It's alright."

He pulled you into him, wrapping you up in his strong arms and putting his legs over yours, making you feel protected and safe.

"No one will hurt you, not on my watch. I love you, Y/n."

"I love you too, Kaeya. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"No need for apologies, you were gonna tell me when you were ready. Now let's get some sleep, that dandelion wine I downed earlier is starting to get to me."

You giggled, burying your head further into his chest.

"Alright. Goodnight, Kaeya."

"Night, prince/ess."

You and Diluc had been dating for a few months now, you had met when he had needed to hire a new bartender, and you volunteered your mixing skills to the Angel's Share. You had caught his eye immediately, and he had asked you out on a date soon after you began your work there.

Your ex wasn't a kind person, to say the least, so you had been hesitant to say yes. You assured Diluc that this was just because your ex was unkind to you, but you had never mentioned physical harm. You hadn't wanted to worry him.

You were sitting on the couch with Diluc, his arm slung over your shoulders while you stared into the crackling flames of the fire burning before you. Diluc wasn't paying attention, as he was reading a book in his free hand.

He raised his arm up, attempting to adjust to a more comfortable position, but you misread this. Your arms were shielding your face in an instant, and Diluc was looking at you with a shocked and concerned face that quickly morphed to anger.

"I'm going to kill him." he growled/

You lowered your arms and looked down, avoiding looking him in the eye.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

"Did he hit you??"

"I, um, didn't want to worry you."

"Barbatos.. and this domestic abuser is just, what, roaming around Mondstat? No punishment for the pain he put you through?"

"I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want him to come and hurt me. I also didn't want to cause any trouble."

Diluc rubbed a hand over his face, before wrapping you in a hug.

"You're safe here, alright? I will never lay a hand on you to hurt you. I won't let anyone else hurt you either, okay?"

"Thank you.." your eyes welled up with tears, "I thought you would be upset that I didn't tell you."

"No, never. It's a hard thing to talk about. If you'd like, I have connections. We can have him arrested."

"I don't want to cause trouble.."

"You won't. He won't be able to hurt anyone else this way. But we can discuss this later. Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"That'd be nice. Thanks, Diluc."

"You're welcome, angel. Tell me if anyone hurts you again, alright? I'll protect you."

"Will do. I love you."

"I love you too."

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conretewings · 2 years

Note

Senario: Vander smacks your ass behind the bar while a guy is hitting on you. In turn, a few days pass and a woman is hitting on Vander..........*warms um palms* Don't hold back lol

Oh friend. You've started something. 😘 You and everyone else please enjoy this little treat:

-It's one of those nights, nights where the bar is especially crowded and the entire place is a raucous din of chatter, drunken laughter, the clattering of mugs on tables, and the occasional dispute, with the old jukebox trying it's best to be heard above the noise.

"Round for the left corner table!" calls Vander as he passes you a tray of drinks. Taking it and flashing him a warm smile, you go to serve them...ignoring the man sitting at the end of the bar who has been pointedly eyeing and grinning like a fool at you for some time now.

Once you come back and pass him again he raises his hand to say, "'Scuse me ma'am, might I have another ale? And...a word if that's alright."

"Sure comin' up," you answer, and grabbing a clean mug pour him the drink and slide it over, then pause in front of him, "Now what's up? Someone bothering you?"

"Nah...but I uh..." he rests his chin in his hand and looks at you with a half lidded, lopsided smirk, "I wish someone was..."

"....Ah. I see." you answer flatly, leaning one elbow on the counter; so he was trying, terribly, to flirt. It seemed that, unlike a lot of the other patrons, this guy didn't realize you were dating the owner.

After a hiccup and clearing his throat, he 'walks' his fingers across the warped wood toward your arm and asks, "So uh...what're you doin' later after leavin' this dump?"

Before you can answer you feel a large hand on your upper back. You know that touch very well, and turn your head to see Vander standing there, giving the man that particular, tight-lipped grin that you recognize as quite the opposite of amused, his eyes narrowed.

"It may be a dump, but it's mine. Now then mate, ya mind tellin' me why you're harassing my staff?" he all but growls.

The man gapes at him stupidly and warily withdraws his own hand, eyes glazed from drink, "Um...I uh..."

"Well," Vander continues, and as he's speaking his hand slides down your back lower and lower until it's settled by your tailbone as you feel goosebumps dance across your skin from his caress, "I think you've had enough, and I'm going to have to cut you off for your own safety..."

And now his hand moves off you for only a split second before you feel the sharp and not unwelcome slap of his broad hand on your ass. The angle at which you two were standing assured no one could see, and you hiss in a quick breath, struggling to remain composed and shoot him an affectionate smirk while mouthing 'you bastard'. He throws you a quick wink and strides off while the man is already on his feet and weaving his way toward the door.

Part 2 under the cut because this is turning out longer than I expected:

Some days had passed since then, when during a slightly more quiet evening, you came back from taking orders to find a quite voluptuous woman who seemed to be quite taken with Vander. He was busy doing some intermittent cleaning behind the bar, and she was perched on a chair, talking to him and leaning forward enough to make quite the display of her ample cleavage. He was paying her no mind beyond asking if she needed another drink, and you bristle; oh. So this was how he had felt when the scenario was reversed.

It wasn't that you two didn't trust each other; mutual respect and trust came in spades for you both, but there was something about seeing another person making a play for your love that set the blood afire and ignited a protective, challenging instinct. Thus, you stuff your notebook in a pocket and go around behind the counter, stepping up to him and tapping his arm.

"Could you help me grab something from the storeroom?" you ask nonchalantly while shooting the woman a cool glance.

"Sure thing." he replies, dropping his cleaning rag and following you into a small side room around the corner, more of a closet than anything.

He doesn't see your smug grin, or you arcing your arm back as he sidles past you and asks, "Alright what did you-"

You swing your hand and crack him smartly right on his ass and he starts while you chuckle triumphantly, "Ha! That's for the other day. You did it while someone was flirting with me, thought I'd return the favor."

There's a momentary pause, then he twists his head just enough to peer at you over his shoulder; uh oh. You see the challenging glint there and before you can make another move he whirls, grasping you by the hips and hoisting you in the air, roughly pinning you to the wall with his body and you both ignore the several cans and other items that fall and clatter on the floor. You throw your arms around his shoulders as your legs encircle his waist and he leans in to growl lowly into your collarbone.

"Now now darlin'...if ya want to start something it'll hafta wait until closing. But until then..."

His hot breath against your skin and the promise of his words have already gotten your blood up, but then he clamps his mouth on your neck, kissing and nipping, making you let out a sharp gasp and moan. You twist your head to meet his lips with your own, pressing hard and running your tongue along his bottom lip. He grunts, fingers digging into your thighs and he deepens the kiss before you both pull back, breath heavy and he carefully lowers you to the floor.

You rest your hands on his chest and look up at him while biting your lip, "Later?"

"Aye definitely..." he replies, planting another kiss on your forehead then taking several deep breaths to calm down, and you both, as casually as possible, head back.

#ask answered #thanks friend!#vander arcane #arcane vander #vander x reader #ask prompt #this was fun to write

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itsapeterthing · 3 years

Text

Lovers’ Quarrel || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x rogers!reader

summary: when you married your brother’s best friend in 1941, the two of you had always promised to stick together and you did just that- even following him to wakanda where you trained alongside the dora milaje. When you find out that bucky’s released zemo from prison behind your back... needless to say you’re pissed.

a/n: okay i absolutely loved this request so much @missroro. reblogs and replies are super appreciated!

word count: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, reader and bucky fighting

masterlist || request || taglist

You were pissed to say the least.

You couldn’t understand why your husband would keep something so big such a secret from you. You had spent seventy years in ice for those you loved. You had become a super soldier for those you loved. You had spent two years off the grid in hiding for those you loved... and your husband couldn’t even tell you the truth? You would have tried to understand- helped him even- but he had chosen instead to keep you in the dark, leaving you to find out about his actions second hand from those who felt just as betrayed as you.

As you stood in the threshold of the room, spotting the five men, you could feel almost nothing but rage coursing through your veins. The tension was so thick in the room, you swore you could cut it with a knife... but you decided that a spear would do.

Throwing your arm back and tossing the spear forward, you watched as it stuck itself into the column between Sam and John Walker- the man posing as your brother.

When the spear collided with the wall, everyone’s eyes immediately snapped onto you and you could of sworn it almost felt good to watch the fear in your husband and Sam’s eyes when they spotted you, knowing just by the look on your face that they had messed up... and you weren’t one to let things like that slide.

“Y/n-” Bucky began.

With a straight face you turned your head to the side, unable to look at him, instead turning your attention to the Dora Milaje as they entered the apartment.

“Even if he is a means to your end... time’s up.” Ayo spoke in Xhosa before switching to English. “Release him to us now.”

You could feel Bucky’s eyes burning into you, but you remained steadfast, watching the scene unfold in front of you.

“Hi. John Walker.” The new Cap attempted to introduce himself. “Captain America.”

Although you were enraged beyond compare upon finding out that the government had chosen a new man to take your brother’s place, you almost wanted to laugh at how poorly he was handling the situation.

When neither of the two women in front of him said anything, he continued.

“Well , uh.” John said. “Let’s put down the pointy sticks and we can talk this through, huh?”

God, he was handling this poorly, wasn’t he? You would find it funny if he wasn’t so incredibly ignorant.

“Hey, John, take it easy.” Sam said looking between you and the two other women in the room. “You might want to fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje.”

“The Dora Milaje don’t have jurisdiction here.” John insisted.

“The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.”

Rather than standing to the side and allowing the group of skilled warriors to take what- or rather who- they wanted and leave, Walker couldn’t help but instigate.

As soon as his hand landed on Ayo’s shoulder, you knew he would regret that decision.

Immediately the two women began fighting- one taking on John Walker and the other Lemar. You had known the women long enough to know that they could handle the situation themselves without breaking a sweat. Still standing in the doorway, you crossed your arms watching as one began choking Lemar with her spear, the other sticking her spear into Steve’s... John’s shield.

Quickly glancing over to the other men, you caught Bucky and Sam staring at you on the sidelines, whispering to one another. As soon as you caught their line of vision you glanced away, focusing once again on the fight taking place in front of you.

Right as Ayo held her spear above John, fear written all over his face, Bucky stepped in, pulling Ayo back. Recalling why you were there in the first place, you immediately uncrossed your arms, striding over to the other side of the room, able to feel the rage flowing through your veins.

Pulling your spear from the wall, you marched up to your husband pulling him away from Ayo.

“Y/n,” He eased. “Let’s talk about this.”

“Oh you want to talk about it?” You asked, shoving him backwards with the spear. “That’s funny, Buck.”

Dodging your blows, not wanting to fight you, Bucky continued backing up and reaching for the spear to keep the metal from meeting his skin.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!” He exclaimed.

Pushing harder with the spear, you grunted, kicking him to subsequently shove him back against the counter.

You asked yourself if he really thought saying ‘sorry’ would work. You knew your husband wasn't dumb enough to believe that there would be no consequences for breaking Helmut Zemo out of prison- a man who not only caused the split of the Avengers, but also killed the king of Wakanda- a place full of people who had shown you and your husband nothing but kindness. They had given Bucky a new chance at life and had given you the opportunity to train among the most expert fighters you had ever met- the Dora Milaje. They had given both of you more than you could have asked for when your life went sideways eighty years ago. So when you had received the call that Bucky had broken Zemo out of prison you could barely believe it.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Buck!” You shouted.

Knocking him back one last time, you recalled what they had taught you back in Wakanda when Bucky had first received his new arm- a trick you had hoped never to have to use, but as you stood there fighting your husband, anger fueling you in a way you had felt only a few times before, you didn’t see another way.

Moving your hand in the exact pattern you had learned years ago along where his shoulder met his chest, you listened as the the metal clicked and watched as his vibranium arm fell to the ground beside him, Bucky looking up at you with his eyes wide.

You had to shove back the part of you that felt your heart break in your chest watching the look of betrayal in his eyes. Recalling why the two of you were in this position in the first place, you stood up straighter, clearing your throat.

“You are sleeping on the couch tonight, Mr. Barnes.”

Holding the spear straight beside you, you turned your attention to Ayo who opened the doors to the bathroom, only to find Zemo missing. Instructing the other warrior to drop Cap’s shield, the two women left, leaving you behind with the four remaining men in the room.

Shoving past your husband, you dropped your spear onto the ground, making your way over to Sam and smacked him across the back of his head.

“Shit!” He exclaimed. “What was that for? Don’t get me involved in your little lovers’ quarrel.”

“Lovers’ quarrel?” You asked him, laughing. “I’ve been Mrs. Barnes for eighty-two years, Sam. I’ve put up with a lot of shit, but don’t act like you two didn’t just break a criminal out of prison. A criminal who- need I remind you- tried to brainwash Bucky and killed King T’Chaka.”

“Don’t look at me.” Sam said, throwing his hands up in the air. “That was all Bucky.”

Immediately your eyes snapped back to your husband who was standing across the room, attaching his vibranium arm to his shoulder once again.

“Thanks, Sam.” Bucky grumbled.

Before any of the rest of you could say anything, the voice from the other side of the room caught your attention. Following the voice you saw John Walker huddled against the table, his friend reaching his hand out to him.

“They weren’t even super soldiers.” He mumbled, staring off into the distance.

Despite the fact that you still didn’t approve of the ‘new’ Captain America, you felt your heart tug in your chest as you watched the man break down over to the side. You felt sorry for him. You knew better than any other living person the weight the shield and legacy carried being both the adopted sister of Steve himself and the wife of his best friend.

Although you were pained watching a new man undermine your brother’s legacy, you couldn’t help but pity him.

Making your way over to John you reached out your hand to him. Looking up you could finally see the recognition in his eyes, realizing who you were. Immediately he took your hand, pulling himself to his feet.

“You’re-” He started.

“Don’t beat yourself up over this, Walker.” You said, before making your way over to the couch. “No one wins a fight against the Dora Milaje. I got my ass handed to me every day that I trained with them.”

Despite the fact that you were telling the truth- you lost to each one every time you fought- you enjoyed every second of it. It was a relief.

After discovering that your husband, Bucky, was still alive after decades apart, you couldn’t stand to let him out of your sight again. When Steve had brought Bucky to Wakanda with the hope of clearing his brain of the programming he had endured under Hydra, you followed him there. Despite the fact that your husband was in your arms once again, you couldn’t help the thoughts that took over your mind every day- everything that you all had lost, the memories of what you had endured and the worry that Bucky would never be the same again.

The pain of being knocked around by a member of the Dora Milaje’s spear was almost therapeutic.

Rather than replying, Lemar pat his friend on the back, nodding to the rest of you within the room before guiding his shaken friend out the door of the apartment.

“You’re being too friendly with him, Y/n.” Bucky said.

Snapping your head to the side you glared at your husband.

“What are you? Jealous?” You asked.

Rather than answer you, Bucky crossed his arms.

“I just think you’re being a little too nice to the guy that’s ruining Steve’s name-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, you pushed yourself off of the couch, striding over to your husband, shoving your finger into his chest.

“Don’t tell me how to feel, James.” You told him seriously. “He was my brother. I wouldn’t have chosen that guy to take on Steve’s name either, but don’t get mad at me. You’re the one who fucked up and lied about going on this mission with Sam. Do you know what it felt like to get a call from Ayo to find out that you not only lied to me, but you betrayed the people who have been nothing but kind to us?”

Staring at you, he could tell how not only angry you were, but also distraught. The both of you had gone through hell and back and Bucky was thankful every day that even after all these years he was able- by some miracle- to still find you eighty years after the two of you had supposedly died. He had suffered through so much and done so many things he could barely look at himself in the mirror for, but at the end of the day you continued to not only be there for him, but to love him anyway.

A part of him felt awful for not telling you- he hated lying to you and you had every right to know- but after your brother had left the two of yours’ lives, he didn’t want to put any further strain on you than you had already endured.

He knew once he freed Zemo that you would find out, but as you stood in front of him he almost wish he hadn’t so you wouldn't be feeling this type of way.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” Bucky said. “I didn't... after everything with Steve I didn’t want to get you involved. You deserved a break, doll.”

Relaxing your shoulders, you sighed, resting your hand on his bicep.

“And what about you, Buck?” You asked. “Don’t you deserve a break?”

“That’s different, Y/n.” He said. “I need this. You know I do.”

You knew he did. You had been there while his guilt kept him up at night, waking him up after only a few hours of what you could barely call rest. You knew that his past had been eating away at him, especially since Steve left, and that doing something wholly good might bring him some semblance of peace.

“I know.” You said, meeting his eyes. “So I’m going to help you. We’re in this together, Buck, okay?”

Despite the fact that he wanted to keep you as far away from danger as he could- something he could never manage considering you had been fighting alongside the Avengers since before he had even gained his memory back- he knew he couldn’t say no to you.

“Alright.” He agreed.

Gently squeezing his arm you gave him a soft smile.

“Glad to see you guys are good.” Sam quipped. “Incase you forgot Zemo’s now on the loose and the back of my head stings like hell.”

Smiling and turning to, Sam, you playfully swat his arm.

“Please.” You laughed. “Big, strong guy like you? You barely felt that.”

“Listen I’m not a super soldier like you two.” He said, pointing between you and Bucky. “Remind me not to mess with your kids some day. Last thing I need is getting knocked out by some kid with two super soldiers for parents.”

“We should go find Zemo.” Bucky said clearing his throat, changing the subject.

“Yeah.” You agreed. “He couldn’t have gotten too far. Let’s go.”

Not one to argue, Sam threw his hands up in the air, leading the way out of the door of Zemo’s apartment. As your foot was about to cross the door, however, you felt Bucky’s hand wrap around your arm, pulling you to the side.

“So do I still have to sleep on the couch tonight?” Bucky asked in a hushed voice.

“Oh honey,” You cooed, patting the side of his cheek before laughing. “You’re not getting out of this one that at easily.”

Watching from his spot on the steps as you picked up the pace to catch up with Sam, he crossed his arms smiling to himself. Steve was right when he said that he was going to be okay... as long as he was with you, how couldn’t he be?

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb

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kiridarling · 3 years

Text

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒.

katsuki bakugou | birthday gone wrong (aha), f!reader, baker!reader, pro hero!katsuki, blizzards, angst and smut, exhibitionism, cockwarming, begging, confessions. minors dni!

— 4.7k words

Wanna blow off some steam?

“Surprise!”

Katsuki jumps ten feet high, and the plastic grocery bags precariously balanced on each finger tear without a second thought. Apples hit the ground with a thud and the egg carton with a depressing slap; one that signifies the crack of at least half a dozen. Katsuki looks at the crowd, red-faced and livid, and Eijirou Kirishima intercepts the awkward silence with:

“Happy Birthday Bakubro! I know y—“

“Said that I didn’t want a fuckin’ party?” Katsuki growls, groceries forgotten on the forgotten. Eijirou looks guilty and chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“W-Well, yeah, but—“

“Everybody out.”

People sigh, and you think you hear Denki whisper told you he’d kick us out. You hate to say that you foresaw a similar outcome. Katsuki’s never been one for people.

Especially you.

“Awe come on, Kacchan,” Izuku says with hands on his hips. “We came all this way! Just let us stay for a little bit.”

“Yeah!” Eijirou seems to cheer up once given a sliver of hope. “Plus, we got cake and stuff. And Just Dance.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes, but you know better—he’s always had a soft spot for the redhead. You all wait with baited breath, wondering if this entire evening was a bust, as Katsuki weighs his options in a pool of fallen groceries.

“One hour.”

Eijirou gasps so hard he chokes, and Katsuki’s generosity earns him applause from the audience. (Plus whoops and hollers from Denki and Mina.)

“And I mean it—y’all have sixty fuckin’ minutes before you’re gone without a goddamn trace. Kapeesh?”

“Kapeesh!”

Katsuki sighs, rubbing at his temples as he steps over the mess at the front door. You assume he’ll make Eijirou clean it up. “Whatever. Where’s the fuckin’ cake?”

Ah.

“In the kitchen, my good sir!” Denki says as he ushers the ash-blond into the said kitchen, the rest of the party hot on their heels. Eijirou grabs the cake from the fridge and you’re tense until the plate hits the marble of their island.

“Flavor?” Katsuki asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, I dunno, [Y/N] made it,” Eijirou throws you under the bus, just like that, and you want to scoff at the way Katsuki freezes—if only for a moment. Eijirou’s oblivious as ever, “[Y/N]?”

“It’s red velvet,” you say, trying not to burn under Katsuki’s carmine eyes. You don’t know why he doesn’t look away.

“Frosting?”

“Buttercream.”

As if you’d give him anything else.

Eijirou tries his best to cram 26 candles into the cake before being forced to opt for 23 lest he ruin your decorations. Denki presses him to make a wish and Katsuki rolls his eyes as he blows out the candles. Eijirou wipes an invisible tear because ‘his boy is getting so old.’ Mina and Jiro cut the cake and people seem to enjoy it, and you think that maybe, reuniting with your high school friends after so long isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.

Even if he said he never wanted to see you again.

“—due to the incoming blizzard, we highly suggest all those who reside in the red and orange zones stay inside until it passes; which should be around ten am tomorrow morning.”

You spoke too soon.

Katsuki turns to the crowd, and you know what he’s going to say before his lip curls.

“Out.”

“Kacchan, don’t be unreasonable!” Izuku says from his comfortable position on the couch. “We’d get caught in the storm if we leave now.”

“Not if you’re fuckin’ fast enough,” Katsuki growls, pulling the greenette’s to his feet by his hair. “Get out, I’m not bunking with you fuckers overnight.”

“Dude,” Denki points to the window, and if you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought the blizzard had already started. “If we leave now, we’ll literally die.”

“Die, then.”

Eijirou sighs, clapping his roommate on the back. “C’mon, man. You know we ca—“

There’s a whirr then a click, and the lights and tv die at once. You can’t see a thing but you definitely hear Katsuki shout:

“Motherfucker!”

Eijirou turns his phone flashlight on first; Katsuki’s busy angrily flicking at the light to no avail. You sigh, turning to the ash-blond (and ignoring those ugly fucking butterflies in your stomach.)

“It’s a blackout Katsuki. The lights aren’t going to work.”

“Don’t you think I fuckin’ know that, dumbass?” And your chest tightens because even though he’s not eighteen anymore, he sounds the same—but you aren’t sure why you expected him to sound so different either.

You lift an eyebrow (not that he can see it), “It doesn’t look like you do.”

Denki snorts at that, hollering about how you just owned the ash-blond as Katsuki yells at him to shut the fuck up. It’s...familiar and comfortable, like you’re all in high school again, before you had to worry about your friends dying in their line of work because you couldn’t be there with them.

Before you got injured.

“Well I mean, we have a few blankets,” Eijirou offers, and as your eyes slowly adjust to the dark, you’re convinced you see his figure cross the living room. “And like, sweatshirts if it gets too cold.”

“It’s already getting too cold,” Mina says, and you can’t help but agree. The quickly cooling room has the goosebumps raising on your shoulders, and you’re starting to regret forgetting your jacket at home.

“Okay! I don’t have that many, but,” Eijirou hollers from somewhere, before returning with a handful of cloth. He drops it onto the coffee table. “Plus Hanta and Denks left their hoodies here last time.”

“Oh shit, we did?” Hanta says, and you assume it’s his figure who starts digging through the clothes. “Totally thought I lost this, lol.”

“Did you just saw lol out loud?”

“I did.”

“Ooh Ei, do you still have that old Red Riot hoodie?” Mina asks, and all of a sudden, she’s all over the pile. She finds it before the redhead can answer and snatches it away with a gasp.

You watch the pile dissolve in the darkness, one by one, and by the time you reach for something, your palm hits the cool wood of the coffee table. Fuck.

“Oh [Y/N]! Do you need some of my blanket?” Mina offers, but the blanket is small, and wrapping it around both of your shoulders just renders it utterly useless. You shake your head after she tries for a while.

“It’s fine Mina, I’m not that cold,” you laugh, but she shakes her head vehemently.

“No! Girl c’mon, you look like you’re freezing!”

And, well. Freezing is a stretch. Sure, you’re a little cold, but you’ll live.

“Do you need my sweatshirt?” Eijirou asks, already pulling at the hem. You roll your eyes.

“I’m serious guys, it’s not that bad,” you say, waving your arms for emphasis. They all grumble but they give up, and you feel like you can finally relax.

Something soft and army green drops into your lap. You pick it up in confusion, before looking up to see who dropped it.

Katsuki looks down at you, face glowing white from the phone flashlights. His eyes pierce your soul nevertheless.

“I don’t ne—“

“Take it.”

Katsuki takes a seat next to you on the couch in his own hoodie. You don’t realize until you put it on that he gave you a sweatshirt themed after his own hero costume.

You can’t sleep.

You can’t sleep, and you’re sure it’s due to the temperature. The wind howls and it sounds like you’re in the eye of a tornado, loose branches knocking against the rattling glass, and upon looking through the window, you see nothing but stark white. You sigh, checking the time on your phone for the fiftieth time this hour. Yep. Still four am.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’, dumbass.”

You all decided to bunk in the living room for warmth. You’re surprised Katsuki stayed, though; you figured he would just head to his room and let you all fend for yourselves while he slept in a comfortable bed. But here he is, sleeping next to you on the cold fucking floor.

“Sorry,” you say, but it’s hard when your shivering and your jaw aches from stunting your chattering teeth. Katsuki and Eijirou only had a limited amount of sleeping bags, meaning you’ve got to share a blanket with the hulking ash-blond.

“You cold?” He grunts. You don’t know why he’s asking.

“No.”

Katsuki sighs, and you hear him adjust, the blanket sliding from your neck to your shoulder. “You’re a shit liar.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows to glare his way, and you look to notice Katsuki’s laying the same way.

“What’s your point?”

Katsuki doesn’t answer for a moment, but it doesn’t seem like he’s looking for an answer, either—his neon red eyes glow through the dark and straight into your soul, and the next time you shiver, it isn’t because of the temperature.

“You’re stubborn.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “Thought you figured that out senior year.”

Katsuki’s face flashes with an emotion you can’t quite pinpoint before it’s gone again. “Yeah. You’d think almost dying would fuckin’ fix that.”

You sigh. Looks like you’re having this conversation now, then.

“I didn’t almost die—“

“Yes, you fuckin’ did,” Katsuki snarls, and Denki almost stirs at his raised tone. “You took that bullet and you didn’t get up for months—“

“And then I woke up and everything was fine! Seriously Katsuki, what’s your problem? I lived.”

“My problem is that you shouldn’t have been there in the goddamn first place!” Katsuki says through grit teeth. You watch his temple roll underneath his hairline. “That was my fuckin’ fight. I don’t need some chick jumping in front of a bullet for me just ‘cause she thinks I can’t take it!”

You scoff, looking around to see if any of your other sleeping friends are listening because get a load of this guy. Naturally, they don’t respond.

“That’s what this is about? Oh, well I’m sorry I bruised your dignity because I didn’t want to see you get fucking shot!”

Katsuki chest inflates with disbelief before it deflates again, and he’s rolling his eyes before he says, “That’s not—you fuckin’ know that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh really?” You laugh, and goddammit Katsuki, you just had to bring it up, didn’t you? “Because waking up after two months to your best friend telling you to give up doesn’t preserve your dignity at all, huh?”

“I didn’t tell you to fu—“

“You said those exact words, Katsuki. You said give up, and you left the hospital.”

The ash-blond has nothing to say to that, because he knows that you know you’re right, and trying to jedi mind trick you into believing he isn’t an asshole won’t work.

“Well you fuckin’ listened,” he grumbles, more to himself than you, but enough emotion flares in your core to make you want to scream.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say, huffing, before turning your back to him, deeming this conversation over. “Good night, Katsuki.”

There’s a lull and it has you convinced you’ve won, finally relaxing (as much as you can) onto the cold floor. At least arguing heated your blood up a bit.

“The fuck do you mean?”

You roll your eyes even though they’re closed before you hop back onto your forearms to give the ash-blond a nasty look. “What?”

“You...said you didn’t have a choice,” Katsuki says, and it’s the first time you think you’ve heard him sound weary. Unsure. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It means I had to give up on being a hero either way.”

Which sucked. Because you had spent the past four years of your life working your ass off to save others, and you wind up out of commission before you even got started. You...suppose you didn’t tell Katsuki the whole story. Well, you hadn’t had a chance to—today’s the first time speaking with him since you woke up in the hospital.

Katsuki eyes you out of his peripheral, but only for a second. “And that means...?”

“It means that if I land on my spine the wrong way, there’s a high chance I’ll be paralyzed from the waist down.” You growl, frustrated that it was easier to coax the truth out of you than you thought.

The bullet buried close to your spinal column. You had to do PT for months, relearning how to walk as you slowly regain your motor functions. That’s when you started to bake.

“Oh.”

The howling of the wind turns from somewhat soothing to aggravating as Katsuki’s unimpressive “oh” hangs heavy in the air, and you find yourself sighing, the puzzle pieces finally clicking in your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Katsuki asks—he’s still not looking at you.

“Blaming yourself,” you gesture to his figure, which is lax with depression, lacking its sturdiness and usual fire. “You didn’t shoot the gun.”

Katsuki snorts at that, running a hand through his hair, “I might as well.”

“Stop.”

“You got shot because of me,” Katsuki says as if it were a fact. “They were trying to kill me. Not you.”

“And they didn’t kill me. I’m here and you’re here. If I hadn’t been there, you’d be six feet under right now,” you reason. Katsuki shrugs because he’s just as stubborn as you are, and you figure he’s been carrying around this baggage for too many years.

“Does your back hurt often?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I mean sure, I get flare-ups sometimes, but it’s not too bad. Doesn’t really get in the way of baking as long as the table is high enough.”

Katsuki thinks for a moment, teeth worrying his bottom lip. “Is the table high enough? At your café.”

You shrug, failing to see where he’s going with this. “I have a platform thingy, so. It’s mostly for decorating cakes and things—“

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“What?”

“I’ll buy you a new table,” Katsuki says, nodding to himself as if he was confirming the idea. “A higher one.”

It takes a second for his offer to process, but once it does, you’re fighting a smile. Still the same kid. “Kats, I don’t nee—“

“An—And if you need a new chair. I’ll pay for that shit too.”

You shake your head—mainly in disbelief, “I don’t need a chair, Katsuki.”

“Then what?” He asks, and it almost sounds desperate with the speed he rushed the sentence, “Y’need a car? That hunk of junk you drive could use some work.”

You ignore the jab, because your car works perfectly fine thank you very much, and snort at the suggestion of such an outrageous purchase.

“What? You tryna be my sugar daddy or something?” You joke. Katsuki gives you a look, and it's dead serious.

“D’ya need one?”

“I—no!” You laugh, and have to remind yourself to reel it in before you actually wake Denki up. “I’m fine financially I just—what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothin’.” Katsuki quickly grumbles, facing forwards again. “I just...”

You raise an eyebrow, “You just..?”

“I dunno. I dunno,” Katsuki shakes his head. You let him gather his thoughts in silence before he tries again. He doesn’t.

“Then fuck me.”

In your defense, your mouth moved before you thought it through.

Katsuki has an unreadable look on his face, but his voice is anything but steady when he says, “What?”

Fuck. Fuck.

“U-Uh, I mean,” you recoil. Stupid big mouth. “I—you—don’t worry about it.”

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” Katsuki deadpans. You choke.

“I—no, that’s not—“

“That’s exactly what you said.”

“No, I meant as in I’m pent up. Obviously,” you defend with a huff, crossing your arms on the pillow as you glare daggers his way. Katsuki matches your stare.

“Not as pent up as a Pro Hero,” he scoffs, lifting an eyebrow. You take it as a challenge.

You click your tongue in faux pity, “Awe, the number two hero Dynamight doesn’t get laid?”

“No fuckin’ time,” he grunts, though you don’t find much remorse in his voice.

“Well, you have time now,” you say, completely unsure of where this confidence is coming from. Either way, you’ll take it and run.

“I do,” Katsuki confirms, leaning in closer. He’s close enough that you can smell what’s leftover of his cologne, and see the hint of a grin that makes his upper cheek shine silver in the moonlight. You find yourself leaning in just as much as he does.

“Wanna blow off some steam?” You dare to question. Katsuki’s grin only grows wider.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Katsuki’s kisses are surprisingly soft, you think, and so are his lips. But you don’t have much time to think about it as he pulls you in by the waist, quietly groaning into your mouth while he lays you down on your back.

“Always thought you were the prettiest fuckin’ thing,” he growls, trailing butterfly kisses down your neck. “‘M gonna make it up to you, yeah? Make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

A hand hikes his sweatshirt above your chest before Katsuki’s latching onto the skin under your collarbone and sucking, teeth digging into your skin hard enough to bruise.

“Y-Yeah, that’s fine,” you whimper, intoxicated by the way Katsuki’s lips flush pink as he pulls away, eyes locked on the fresh hickey on your chest. They flicker up to you; he grins.

“Good?”

“Mhm.”

Katsuki hums at that, licking his lips before diving back in. You hiss when he bites too hard, prompting him to bite harder, but he always soothes it over with his tongue, topping each bruise with a kiss. You flinch when his lips wrap around your nipple and he chuckles at your meek whimper; a hand removes its grip on the sweatshirt in favor of sliding it up your thigh.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Katsuki says once he pulls away, enjoying the sight of you writhing in anticipation. “And it’s all for me, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, ‘m all yours just—“ you kick a leg in frustration at the thumb playing with the hem of your panties, “—do something already.”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, “Do what?”

You frown, huffing, “You know what.”

Katsuki shrugs, adjusting so he’s caging you to the floor. Ghosting a thumb over your panties, he says, “‘Course I do. You gotta ask nicely first.”

You tighten your hands into fists. He would.

“I’m no—“

“Beg, Princess,” Katsuki growls, his stare unwavering. He presses an inquisitive finger to your clit through your panties either as a promise or a threat—which, you’re not quite sure.

You crumble.

“I—fine, just—finger me.”

Katsuki doesn’t move. Asshole.

“Please.”

The ash-blond grins, finally pushing your panties to the side.

“Good girl.”

When Katsuki slides his first finger in, it’s much too easy, and you blame it on the foreplay. You shudder, hands moving to brace themselves on his big shoulders, and the ash-blond muffles a moan as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Another,” you moan, bucking your hips into his palm. Katsuki’s heated gaze flickers from your body to your face.

“Already?” He chuckles, the rasp in his throat giving his arousal away. You nod—he clicks his tongue.

“Fuckin’ dirty.”

Two fingers feel like so much more than just one, and they have your eyebrows folding in a poor attempt to muffle a whimper. Katsuki’s fingers still move tentatively but they’re getting comfortable, curling and searching for that place that’ll make you tremble. And then he finds it.

“F-Fuck,” your body jolts, and Katsuki’s shushing you against the pillows.

“Keep your mouth shut, Princess,” he purrs, head dipping down to nip at your neck. It adjusts the angle ever so slightly, but enough to make you hiss, and he chuckles. “Unless you wanna get caught.”

“Oh yeah, because that sounds fun right now,” you snort towards the ceiling. Katsuki pulls away with an unimpressed look as his thumb comes down over your clit.

“Can’t wait to fuck the brat outta ya. Maybe then you’ll actually shut up for once, huh?” Katsuki inserts a third finger without you asking him to, and you gasp, clawing at his back.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he laughs against your mouth lowly, as if the light kisses will do anything but make more noise, “Good God sweetheart, you’re really pent up, aren’t ya?”

“Shit—I doubt you’re much better,” you try, scoffing at what you can see of his painfully hard cock in his sweatpants. Katsuki looks down before sending a huff your way, with a cute little blush dusted on his cheeks.

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunts, pulling out his fingers. You whine at the loss. “How d’ya want me to fuck you?”

You need to take a step back from how crude the question is. Right, sex.

“Right um,” you look around, trying to find the least obvious position—and one that doesn’t make a shit ton of noise. Laying on your side, you tuck an arm under the pillow, before turning around to Katsuki to suggest, “Cuddle-fucking?”

“Cuddle-fucking.”

“Yep,” you say with finality, popping the p. Making big grabby hands his way, you say, “C’mere, big guy.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes but moves behind you anyways, warm arms easily finding themselves around your waist under the blanket. After a few adjustments and ensuring you're both fully covered, Katsuki’s hard cock presses against your entrance as he hooks his head over your chin with a huff.

“This is so not on fuckin’ brand.”

“I don’t think fucking in a living room with sleeping friends is on-brand for a pro hero or a baker,” you say casually. Katsuki breaks out into a snort, pressing his face deeper into your neck.

“God, I fuckin’ missed you, ya know that?” He chortles. Your chest blooms with something it hasn’t in years, and for the first time, you find that you don’t mind.

“Don’t be such a dick and maybe I’ll stick around this time,” you quip with a smile he can’t see. Though you feel his against the base of your neck.

“Noted.”

Katsuki’s last words hang in the air, unusually heavy, and your eyes catch the snow beating against the window with a less than angry howl. Katsuki’s chest shudders against your back but he doesn’t move, hands frozen at your waist.

“Hey, I thought you were gon—“

“I’m getting to it,” Katsuki snaps, and you gasp as he starts to push inside. “So fuckin’ impatient, goddamn.”

He pulls you down until he fills you completely, and you suppress the urge to shout at the speed he did it with. Katsuki moves a hand to slap over your mouth.

“Shut the fuck up.”

You reach around to pinch him in the side with a huff, he calls you a bitch. It’s a little hard to hear you behind his hand as you say, “Then don’t catch me off guard like that, asshole.”

Katsuki snaps his hips and does exactly what you tell him not to do—prompting another surprised whine out of you and a dark chuckle from the ash-blond. His cheek presses into your jaw as he finds leverage in hiking your lower half up until your puffy cunt is level with his cock, and fucking you until you drool all over the pillow.

“What a pretty fuckin’ thing,” Katsuki grunts, and you can tell he struggles to keep quiet in the way his chest sporadically shudders. You have to grip the pillow for some semblance of purchase and Katsuki chuckles at watching you struggle, before he’s hiking your leg up to fuck you that much deeper.

“I always—always knew you’d sound so good,” he pants, the grip around your mouth bordering on clammy. You want to tell him that if he keeps making so much noise he’ll wake up everyone in this fucking room, but there isn’t much time between moans to get more than a word in. “Fuck baby, keep tightening around me like that, and I might fuckin’ cum.”

You find it amusing how close he is so quickly, until two fingers land on your clit and start rubbing in slow, small circles. Your walls flutter around him and Katsuki digs his teeth into your neck with a curse, his grip around your raised thigh contracting as he tries to hold on for as long as he can.

And that’s when Denki starts to move.

First, he rolls to the left. Which would’ve been fine, seeing as it’s in the opposite direction until he bops Eijirou straight on the nose and promptly rouses the redhead from his slumber. Katsuki’s hips still.

“O-Ow, dick,” Eijirou curses under his breath, quickly scrambling to his forearms. It’s hard to tell through the darkness, mostly because you’re squinting your eyes to feign sleep, but it seems like Eijirou rubs under his nose, only to blink back at a bloody hand.

“...Shit.”

Katsuki’s hips shift, ever so slightly, but enough to nestle his cock deeper and force you to bite back a whine. And another. And then another.

You try your hardest to be discreet when you reach to pinch Katsuki in the side, and he breathes a laugh down your neck.

“What?” He whispers, though it's more than a rasp than anything else. Good to know you’re not the only one struggling to not cum, here.

“You know 'what,'” you quickly hiss. But Katsuki’s hips don’t stop as Eijirou weighs his options to cure his bloody nose in the dark. The fingers on your clit return their usual pressure and you inhale sharply, nails digging into Katsuki’s forearm as your orgasm begins creeping up on you.

Eijirou sniffles and gets up, stumbling through the darkness to turn down the hall that leads to the bedrooms. Katsuki sees that as fucking freedom and his hips really start to pick up so much speed that you struggle to breathe through it all.

“‘M gonna cum,” Katsuki whimpers into your neck, burying his face deeper in a poor attempt to stunt any sound. “Fuck, fuck ‘m gonna cum, you close baby?”

“Y-Yeah jus’ a little more,” you whimper, eyes rolling as Katsuki finds some inhumane energy in him to fuck faster. He nods at that and bites into your shoulder with a growl, “C’mon, fuckin’ cream all over my cock—atta girl, fuck, fuck—“

Katsuki fills you up the moment you clench around his cock with a sigh, the weight of your orgasm knocking you forehead-first into your pillow as you bite the urge to squeal. Katsuki doesn't growl as much as you expect, moans breathy and light as his hips finally stutter to a stop—but you suppose some things have to change over the years.

Katsuki collapses next to you in pure exhaustion and you’re sure that’s his cum leaking down your thigh, but for some reason, you don’t really mind.

“Hey you,” he speaks first, eyes blazing red in the darkness. You snort.

“Hey, you.”

Katsuki chuckles with a stupidly giddy smile on his face, "Y'know, you still fuck really well."

You drop your head on his chest to snort, and his hands find their rightful place around your waist.

"Better than high school?"

"Yeah..." Katsuki grumbles, before his eyes narrow. "Wait—hey, yo—"

"I haven't fucked anyone since," you snuff the fire before it even starts, and Katsuki relaxes, though his eyes stay slim. He pulls you closer and you sigh—it's comfortable.

"Good," he grunts. And then after a pregnant silence: "I haven't either."

That's...strangely reassuring.

Your arms wriggle until they fold over his shoulders to play with the small hairs on the back of his neck, and he hums, eyes fluttering shut with a final peck on the lips. As Katsuki's breathing evens and the white of the snow dyes the highest points of his face white, you smile. He looks older.

You think he's asleep until he nudges your waist.

"Be my girlfriend."

You don't even hesitate.

"Okay."

By the time Eijirou comes stumbling down the hall, both you and Katsuki are passed out—with his body encompassing yours in the most intimate way, face tucked into your hickey-ridden neck as your arms and legs lock around his being. The redhead gives you both a soft smile as he passes, snorting to himself.

“Took them long enough.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY THOTSUKI

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #bnha smut #bakugou smut #mha smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Do Us Part

Warnings: nonconsent and rape; oral, fingering, marital discord, cheating, spousal arguments and mental/emotional abuse, age gap (Peter is 24/25 and reader is 35/36)

This is dark!Peter Parker x 30s/’older’ reader and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find it hard to accept that not all good things last as you face the changes in your marriage, yourself, and your marriage.

Note: I wanted to write Peter again but also I’ve seen this nonsense about how 30+ writers are too old for fanfic which is dumb af. And I wanted to turn the age gap trope a little so that it wasn’t the reader being the younger one in the relationship. I label it older reader but I don’t think being in your 30s is old tbh (my bf is 36 so pfft). It was all just a conglomeration of circumstances that inspired a deceivingly sweet dark Peter and I hope you like it. Also it’s 7.4k so a bit of a longer read.

Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You walked slowly along the transparent shelves set into the pristine white walls of the cosmetics section. The department store was a haze of distant voices and the chirp of scanners as customers milled the aisles and waited their turn to check out. You whiled away your time looking at things you’d never buy as you waited for your husband to return from the men’s department.

You thought of the sparse make-up bag under your sink and the liners and shades you hadn’t used in years. They were likely expired and better tossed in the bin. You hovered along the crystal bottle of designer scents and stopped to test a particular blush-tinted fragrance.

You set the bottle back and peered over at the dark cubbies that housed the men’s scent. Even from there, you could catch a whiff of the heady scents as a younger man with reddish brown hair examined an angular vial of Dior Men. You suddenly felt out of place; a mid-thirties woman in her out-of-season clothes fantasizing about overpriced perfume.

Your husband's voice further cemented your reality as you fingered the golden cap of the Coach eau du parfum. Wesley rolled his eyes and flipped up the little plastic panel that hid the bold prices and huffed.

“I hope you don’t think I’m gonna pay for that shit,” he sneered, “what have you been doing? I was waiting for you.”

He waved a plastic bag as his lip curled and you pressed your mouth shut tightly and swallowed. The day began with another argument as he discovered the seared hole in his shirt and instead of blaming the crappy old dryer, he blamed you. Most of your clothes had been chewed up by the thing but you never complained.

“No, I was just… looking,” you teetered in your flats and glanced around. The young man at the corner display quickly turned to hide his nosy observation, “did you find some new shirts?”

“No thanks to you,” he sniffed.

“Oh,” you played with the hem of your tee and tucked your hands into your pockets nervously. You’d left him to look alone as you only seemed to irritate him and rarely took your advice on matters of clothing, “well, I thought I’d give you some space--”

“Stop acting so pathetic. Start taking responsibility for yourself. For god’s sake, you're almost thirty-six and you don’t know how to hang a shirt to dry?” He spun on his heel and snapped over his shoulder, “let’s go.”

You flinched but followed behind him as he strode away and you stumbled out behind him through the automatic doors. He tossed the bag into the back seat and slammed the door before flopping angrily into the driver’s side. You mirrored him daintily and squeezed your legs together as you tried to make yourself as small as you could.

“I told you about the dryer,” you said.

“And?” he started the engine and slapped his hand around the wheel, “call a fucking electrician or some shit.”

“Alright,” you shrugged as he stopped at the exit of the parking lot and checked his phone quickly.

“Benny wants to do a round of golf,” he peeled out and you grasped the door as your heart raced. You hated how reckless he was when he was angry. You hated how easily he got angry these days.

“Okay,” you picked at the fraying stitching of your purse.

“Don’t start moping,” he sneered, “I fucking work all week and I can’t go out and have a few rounds?”

“I never-- I didn’t say anything,” you murmured.

“You don’t need to,” he turned the wheel sharply as he cut off another car, “you sit at home all day and do what?”

“I work too,” you said.

“Uh huh, sure, if that’s what you call it.”

You ran your fingertip over the bleach stain on the knee of your jeans and said nothing. When he was in a mood, he would latch on anything until he outright exploded. You tried to think of when he changed, when he had stopped being the chill guy you met back in college. It felt like a slow trickle, small things you ignored until it was a mountain you could not see past.

You felt like crying but you’d stopped that a while ago. You existed in a purgatory of acceptance and helplessness. You wanted him to love you again, wanted to believe you could fix things. So you would keep trying. You would do better.

💍

You picked out a large flank of steak and winced at the price. You had a special dinner in mind. It was Friday and the work week was done. You wanted a weekend without a fight and Wesley was always one for a nice big cut of beef. You hadn’t made him one in a while, your dinners were the usual repetitive drumsticks and rice or your homemade mac and cheese.

You continued onto the fish section and grabbed some salmon for yourself. You’d gained some weight and decided to cut out dairy and red meat if you could help it. The pile of produce in your cart reminded you of the extra jiggle around your stomach and thighs. You also grabbed one of those women’s magazines that advertised a regimen to help slim your figure. You only hoped you could stick to it this time.

With your weekly haul in tow, you wheeled up to the check-out and waited behind a young man who looked oddly familiar to you. Maybe that was the passing years. You always felt a vague glimmer of deja vu, more often a sense of forlorn nostalgia of what you would never have again.

As you stared thoughtlessly, he looked over and smiled. He bent in front of your cart and picked up a thin packet of seasoning.

“You dropped this,” he said as he held it out and you thanked him before quickly snatching it and looking away.

He paid for his large bags of chips and over salted pre-packaged meals and packed up at the end as you loaded up your own goods, the cashier sending them down the parallel belt. You swiped your card and tried to calculate the chunk of money from your last check. You thanked the clerk and sidled past the young man as he finished up.

You rounded the counter as he lifted his three bags. You looked up without thinking, the sleeve of his shirt tight around his bicep. You caught yourself staring and looked back down as you packed in the cans.

It reminded you of Wesley; he’d also started being more mindful, he hit the gym after work and you noticed the little pudge that started just after he turned thirty was slimming out. It was that exact reason that made you notice the extra pounds on your own frame, not that you didn’t realise before.

The man left and you unfolded the little buggy you slid under the cart. You loaded your bags into it and dragged the cart behind you as you made an awkward exit with both wheeled trolleys. The compact fabric buggy was easy enough to fit on the bus if you stood.

You pushed the cart into the row of empty ones and continued across the parking lot. You rolled up to the bus shelter and checked the bus times on your phone. You dug out your strip of tickets and ripped one away. You leaned on the thin handle of your trolley and looked over your shoulder as you heard someone approach.

The man who checked out ahead of you put his bags on the metal bench inside the shelter as he sipped on a bright drink from the place just beside the grocery shop. He sent you a smile over his straw and you spun back to crane your head and search for the bus.

When the metal beast barreled up and cranked to a stop at the curb, the man waited behind you and as your wheels caught on the edge of the ramp, he reached around you and helped push it over the lip. You thanked him shyly and continued up. Usually you tried to keep the shop light on weekdays but you hadn’t really been paying attention.

You pushed your cart against the small barrier just behind the accessible seating and stood beside it, conscious not to take up too much space. The man stood just behind you two bags on one shoulder and the other dangling from the opposite elbow as he sucked on his straw. You grabbed the upright bar as the bus took off and watched the electronic banner for your stop.

A sharp stop had you veering back and you were caught by the young man as he chucked, “oop, you okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” you muttered and gave a sheepish smile over your shoulder.

“There’s a seat,” he gestured just behind you, “I’ll watch your stuff.”

“Um, no it’s… fine,” you gripped the bar tighter as the bus shuttled forward, “my stop is soon.”

You looked ahead of you and three stops passed before yours. You exited through the front with your buggy and headed down the sidewalk as the bus pulled away. You were exhausted just from your little sojourn and it wasn’t even two o’clock. God, you felt old.

💍

You had a salad chopped and tossed and the steak and fish laid out and seasoned. As you listened to your old Spotify list, the music dipped and the notification blipped over the screen. You washed your hands and grabbed the phone. You frowned as you read the lone message from Wesley, the only one you got from him all day.

‘Just finished at the gym, getting drinks with Andrew,’ you read and re-read the message as your heart fell.

You typed out a whole angry response and backspaced it all. You replaced it with ‘ok, have fun’ and blacked the screen. You shoved the meat back in the fridge and stretched saran wrap over the bowl of salad. You placed it on a lower shelf and closed the door, quickly swiping a can of the craft beer Wesley kept around.

You shut the light off in the kitchen and ignored the pang in your stomach as you cracked the can. You climbed the stairs as you sipped the hoppy foam. You put it on the night table and changed into the old butterfly pajamas you wore most nights and turned on the tv mounted against the wall.

You turned on Netflix but hardly paid attention to the carelessly chosen movie. You sat against the headboard and down the bitter beer until the can was hollow and your eyelids were heavy. You slumped down so that your shoulders were at your ears and dozed off in the stiff position as the room moved with the colours of the television.

The anger and alcohol shaded your shallow sleep and you hardly heard Wesley when he came in, only waking when your bladder was ready to burst and his snores rumbled in your head. You went to the bathroom and returned, wide awake, and stared at the shape of him in the dark.

You remembered when he used to kiss you when he came home, even when you were asleep, he’d wake you with the little pecks. You remembered when he was happy to come home. You remembered when you were happy.

You swallowed the acrid aftertaste of beer and left him to snore. You went downstairs and curled up on the couch but didn’t sleep. You just stared at the shadows of the furniture until the sun rose.

💍

The next day, Wesley didn’t wake until after noon and when he did, he didn’t say a word to you. He took his coffee and sat at the patio table in the back as you stewed and cleaned the kitchen. You had nothing to say to him even if you felt stupid for being mad.

“Gotta head down to the dealership,” he said as he interrupted your scouring of the stove.

“The dealership?” you said after a moment, deciding whether or not to break your vow of silence.

“I told you on Wednesday, I’m picking up the car--”

“We talked about this. We should wait a little longer--”

“It’s my money and I got a great price,” he sighed, “just because you have to pinch your pennies--”

“We’re married,” you squeezed the foam sponge, “it’s our money. Don’t act like I don’t pay for anything around here.”

“Oh thanks, honey, so wonderful you paid for a five dollar steak,” he scoffed, “I’ll be impressed when you can make a mortgage payment on your own.”

“How dare you!” you turned your back to him and kept scrubbing, “fine, but not a penny of my money is going to that thing.”

“That’s fine, I’m selling the old one, that should cover most of it--”

“What?” you slammed your hand between the burner, “you said we would hold onto it so I had something to--”

“Then you can buy it from me,” he said venomously.

“I’m your wife,” you spun to scowl at him again, “I-- what is wrong with you?”

He tilted his head and squinted as he poked his tongue out along his lip. “Nothing wrong with me,” he shrugged, “what’s wrong with you?”

“Don’t--” you warned as you pointed a finger at him through the bright yellow gloves, “don’t do that… I’ve been trying and you just keep pushing me away.”

“Me pushing you away?” he rolled his eyes, “you were passed out last night when I got home. Maybe if you didn’t fall asleep before nine I could actually fuck you… or at least get it up if you worked on losing some of that cellulite on your ass.”

Your lip quivered and you sucked in a breath. You shook your head and turned around again. You ignored him as your hand shook and you continued your work, scratching at the dried-on food around the burner. His empty mug clinked onto the counter and you listened to his exit.

Fuck him and his new car. You were done trying with him.

💍

Wesley’s new car was shrouded in the shade of the garage as the old black Hyundai sat out on the driveway with a red and white “For Sale” sign on the windshield. Right after he got back from his extravagant purchase, he made the listing online and several perusers stopped by Saturday night but Sunday morning saw the car still there.

You sat by the border of stones around the garden as he drank beer in the garage and approached any interested buyers who appeared; although so far he’d only had two before noon.

You tucked your clippers into your apron pocket and dusted off your gloves as you stood. You were a little dizzy from sitting out in the sun and a glass of water was the perfect excuse to drown out the annoying sound of your husband’s voice.

You ignored Wesley as you trod through the garage and kicked your sneakers off on the mat right before the three steps up to the house. You went to the kitchen and put your gloves on the counter as you filled a glass from the dispenser on the front of the fridge. You’d given up everything but water and the slices of lemon were the only flavour you had.

You took the glass and your gloves and headed back. Wesley waited just at the bottom of the stairs as he glared up at you with arms crossed. You sighed and descended but he didn’t let you pass.

“What is your problem?”

“Are you really asking me that?” you hissed.

“You giving me the silent treatment isn’t gonna fix this,” he snarled.

“You know what you said so… I shouldn’t have to tell you to apologize,” you retorted and he stayed put.

“Is this about the car?”

“The car is just another thing,” you cross an arm around your stomach, “you think I couldn’t use it to get around, to get the groceries maybe? Or, I don’t know, maybe since you have such a problem with my home office, I could go out and get a ‘big girl’ job as you put it so many times--”

“Your mother has a car she never drives. You can just take her with you, two birds, one stone. I need to sell this to pay for the new one--”

“The one I begged you not to buy,” you huffed, “you could’ve waited a few more years until we were a little more comfortable--”

“Oh, wait? Until we have a kid and all my money goes to it,” he snapped, “yeah, I’m sure we’d have the money then--”

“You’d have to fuck to do that,” you stepped down the last step and pushed past him.

As you came into the sunlight and shielded your eyes, a figure stood by the garden, knelt just by your tulips as he felt the soft petals. You narrowed your eyes. You recognized him for sure. It was the stranger from the bus.

“Um, hi?” you croaked as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Hey, it’s… you again,” he chuckled softly as he stood, “I saw an ad for a car and… well, I’m getting tired of the bus.”

“Oh, uh, my husband,” you pointed over your shoulder, “you’ll have to talk to him.”

“Okay,” he smiled, “Peter,” he held out his hand and you stared at it. You introduced yourself and shook his firm grip.

“Like I said, it’s my husband selling the car,” you brushed by him and got to your knees by the flowerbed. “Unless you’re looking to buy some wilting pansies.”

“Hmm, I like the tulips better,” he said as he slowly inched away, “thanks.”

You sat back on your heels and he strode over to the open garage. You heard Wesley greet him and didn’t bother paying attention to the same pitch you’d heard all morning. You pulled on your gloves and wiggled your nose as it tingled. You really just wanted to keel over and bawl.

“Sold,” Wesley announced and you heard a clap, “all yours!”

“I’ll just transfer the deposit,” Peter said and a minute passed before he emerged again, the keys hanging from his finger, “Thanks, Wes.”

You hid your distaste. It used to be that Wesley hated being called ‘Wes’ but lately, he introduced himself to everyone as just ‘Wes’. He really had changed. You must have too.

“Hey,” you looked up and blinked as the sun made your eyes water as it shone around Peter.

“You bought it?” you asked as you yanked free a weed.

“Yep, but uh,” he glanced over his shoulder as the old car stereo Wesley used blared out a classic rock tune, “I… wasn’t eavesdropping but I heard some of it and… if you ever need a ride to the grocery store, I usually try for Wednesdays,” he tucked his hand in his pocket, “I don’t live too far and since we go to the same one--”

“No, no, you don’t have to do that,” you looked back to the soil, embarrassed.

“Well, if you change your mind,” he kept the keys dangling from one finger and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and slid out a card with some effort, “I’m supposed to have these handy but I never really use them.”

He offered the business card and you read his name above the title, ‘senior photographer’. You gave a half-hearted smile and put it in your apron pocket.

“Thanks,” you said, “I can manage.”

“You don’t have to though,” he said kindly, “but I’ll, uh, leave you to your gardening. Sorry if I bugged you.”

“You didn’t,” you assured without looking up, flattered that anyone cared enough to even offer help.

“Hey, Pete,” Wesley stopped Peter as he neared the car, “you can have one before you go.”

“Oh, no, I’m gonna be driving,” Peter argued.

“Pfft, it’s a celebration and one won’t put you over the limit,” Wesley insisted and handed him a dark bottle of craft brew, “come on.”

“I really should go--”

“It’s a Sunday, where do you need to be?” Wesley patted his shoulder and looked over at you, “hey, honey, you wanna see if we have any snacks for our guest?”

“I’m not hungry,” Peter said curtly, “really. Just the beer is fine.”

They disappeared back into the garage and you cringed. You hated that. Wesley only every acted like a husband when others were around.

💍

You waited a whole week before returning to the grocery store. You were short on everything and it was a reason to get out of the house. Your husband had made both your home and your workplace hostile.

It irked you that Wesley resented you working from home when a couple years ago he was so happy about it. Then, he’d been so enthusiastic about starting a family but when it didn’t happen right away, he grew disillusioned and bitter. Now, he seemed to have no interest in being a husband let alone a father.

As you packed up your spinach and bottles of Perrier, your cart rolled just a little as someone nudged it from the other end. You raised your head and hid your surprise and discomfort as Peter smiled back at you.

“I thought you said Wednesdays,” you murmured as you dropped a bag in your cart.

“I forgot eggs,” he held up the carton, “I guess I have good timing.”

“You do?” you asked as you pulled your cart forward and maneuvered around to push it out of the way of fellow shoppers. You bent to grab your trolley from beneath and he caught it as you unfolded it.

“I’ll drive you,” he said.

“I told you--”

“I’m here so why not? Save the ticket for next time,” he urged.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why does it matter? Why do I matter to you?” you asked.

“I don’t know, I… like helping people,” he shrugged, “what if I told you you were helping me? I have this horrible need to be the hero.”

“That will go away,” you muttered under your breath and he lifted a brow, “sorry, I… thank you.”

“Alright, let’s go then,” he collapsed the trolley and carried it easily under his arm as he cradled his eggs in the other, “I got the A/C fixed on the car too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed and walked with him out of the store.

You crossed the parking lot and helped you load up the bags in the trunk. That car should have been yours; you’d made enough payments on it yourself but Wesley was such a stubborn ass.

You sat in the front seat as he slid into the other and started the car. He drove cautiously through the lot and you read the store signs as he came to the exit.

“How long have you and… the old man been together?”

“Um,” you glanced over at him and chewed your lip, “since college so… almost fifteen years now.”

“Fifteen?” he turned out onto the street, “really? I thought he was older than you.”

“Christ,” you scoffed, “don’t flatter me.”

“Really, I woulda said twenty-eight at most,” he said coolly, “wow, I feel so young now.”

“And I feel so old,” you grumbled as you crossed your legs, hoping he didn’t notice the wrinkle in the pink capris.

“Whatever, you’re not even forty,” he said, “and time has treated you well so I can only think in a few years… oh jeez, sorry, that came off weirder than I intended. Not that I meant for it to be weird at all--”

You giggled at his rambling as he rolled to a stop at the sign and peeked over at you in the rearview. You caught his eye and quickly looked away, “what?”

“Just… you have a nice smile,” he said as he turned down a side street, “and a nice laugh.”

“Thank you,” your voice was brittle at the genuine compliment, “you’re funny.”

“Am I? I wasn’t trying to be,” he took the same short cut you took when you walked home from the convenience store which was closer than the plaza.

“And nice,” you said as he came onto your street, “you really didn’t have to drive me. You could’ve dropped me at the corner--”

“No way, I was raised better than that, and if you think I’m letting you carry that all in by yourself--”

“Raised to help little old ladies?” you mused.

“Raised to treat ladies properly,” he corrected, “especially pretty ones.”

“I’m married,” your heart pattered as you dared to flirt back, almost in disbelief that he was humouring you, “and your lies don’t work on me, young man.”

“Not that young,” he insisted as he pulled into the driveway.

You got out and went around to the trunk. He handed you the bag with the bread and other light products, and loaded up with the other bags.

“You get the doors, let me do the heavy work,” he said and nodded you towards the house.

You went ahead of him and unlocked the door. You let him inside and pointed him into the kitchen. He placed the bags on the counter and stretched his arms and hands as you set yours on the other side. The muscles of his arms moved under his skin and you could trace the lines of his torso through his grey tee.

“So,” he took out the bottle of Perrier, “this going in the fridge?”

“What-- you’ve done enough.”

“Fridge?” he ignored you and pulled out the other.

You gave a long blink and threw up your hands in surrender, “yes, please,” you came around and reached in to grab the whole grain buns, “bottom shelf.”

You finished unpacking your groceries and took the empty bags from Peter and shoved them under the counter. You stood and looked at him nervously as he watched you, his fingers tapping on the granite.

“Do you want a snack? Something to drink? Water?”

“I’ll have a water,” he said and moved to leaned his elbow on the countertop, his side snug to the edge.

“Sparkling or--”

“Regular’s fine,” he answered

“Ice? Lemon?” you pulled out a tall glass.

“Just ice is fine… then I’ll be out of your hair,” he said.

Ice clinked into the glass and you covered it with the distilled water from the fridge. You slid it onto the counter and stepped back.

“Oh, I… actually, it’s a good thing I ran into you,” he said and took a sip, “my aunt, she likes to garden too but she got some bulbs she’s not gonna use, I thought maybe… maybe you would like some to fill in the holes?”

“What kind?” you asked.

“Some daffodils and some crocuses, I think,” he said, “I could bring them over next week after work?”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” you scrunched your lips, “you could probably just give them to a neighbour.”

“It’s not out of the way,” he said, “you want them?”

You stared at him and thought. He was nice. Too nice.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing, I… I’m sure you have a girlfriend you could be spending time with--”

“I don’t. Not anymore,” he interrupted.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, “I didn’t--”

“Like I said, I always wanna be the good guy,” he finished his water and the last of the cubes settled at the bottom, “thanks.”

“No, thank you,” you said as he set his glass in the sink and backed away, “really, you made my day so much easier.”

“I hope your weekend is better,” he said, “but…”

He didn’t finished and you folded your hands together as he hesitated by the hallway.

“But what?” you prodded.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, “nothing. I should go.”

“Okay,” you rubbed the back of your neck, “see ya.”

“Monday,” he confirmed as he turned to the doorframe, “I’ll bring the bulbs. Just after seven.”

“Right,” you slanted your lips and watched him go.

The door marked his departure and you turned to exhale and lean against the counter. You could still smell his rich cologne. Then you felt guilty. It was stupid to think he was doing anything more than being nice, that the flirting was anything but a joke, but still, you missed feeling that way and it should’ve been Wesley making you feel that.

💍

You squeezed the phone as you clenched your jaw so tight it hurt. Your eyes were wet and finally the tears were ready to start falling. The smell of steak filled the kitchen, another meal you wouldn’t eat. At the last minute, Wesley texted to tell you he was hitting the gym. Again. He was already late after a long meeting but promised he’d be home to eat.

So you waited for him to answer your furious phone call but got his voicemail instead. Your eyes narrowed at the bottle of wine and your chest knotted as the tone sounded.

“Wesley, this is it. I can’t do this anymore! I’m your wife. Do you even want to be with me? I can’t go on like this and now you won’t even answer my calls,” you snarled. You knew he had his phone on him as he no doubt had his Spotify work-out list on shuffle, “when you come home, you can sleep on the couch.”

You hung up and grabbed a stemmed glass from the cupboard. You filled it to the brim with Pinot Grigio but before you could taste it, the doorbell made you jump. You set down the glass and walked up the hallway. Just on the other side of the frosted glass was a silhouette. You opened the door and touched your forehead as you faced Peter.

“I totally forgot you were coming,” you breathed, “I’m so sorry. But thank you, you really didn’t have to--”

“Are you okay?” he asked as the paper bag in his hand crinkled.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I… thank you for the flowers,” you looked at the brown paper bag and he handed it over, another bag on his wrist; white with ribbon handles, “what’s that? You headed out for a date?”

“Um, no,” he said, “actually, I was just…” he pushed his fingers through his hairs, the reddish brown locks slightly curled with sweat, “I wanted to talk to you.” He looked past you and his warm eyes returned to yours, “Wesley isn’t home yet?”

“No, he won’t be for a while,” you backed up, “so you might as well come in. I have a steak no one’s gonna eat.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t be,” Peter said glumly, “and steak sounds good.”

He closed the door behind him and followed you into the kitchen. You put the bulbs at the back of the counter and grabbed the bottle, “wine?”

“No thank you,” he said.

You plunked down the bottle and took a gulp of your wine before you turned to plate the steak and your chicken breast alongside the fried asparagus and roasted potatoes. You set the filet before him as he sat on the stool and climbed up across from him at the long island.

“Thank you,” he watched you slide a steak knife and fork towards him and his gaze lingered on your lips as you took another thirsty mouthful, “this is for you, actually.”

He pushed the white bag over to you and you smelled the subtle floral scent rising from it. You put your glass down and pushed open the top of the bag and peeked inside. You shook your head and rescinded your hand as if you were slapped. It was the same perfume from that day weeks ago.

“You… how?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked.

You thought back on the day you wanted to forget. He was the other shopper in the perfume section, the one who sent you that sympathetic look as Wesley reproached you. You winced and grabbed your utensils. You cut into the chicken and shoved it in your mouth. You swallowed loudly.

“Take it back,” you sniffed, “I don’t want it. I don’t deserve it.”

“You do. He doesn’t deserve you,” he carefully sliced into the medium rare steak.

“Is that what this is? Some perverted joke? A challenge?” you dropped your fork and knife, “you think you can seduce the sad housewife and then laugh at it? Sow your wild oats?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” he calmly put down the silverware, “I… what I didn’t say when I showed up is I just came from the gym.”

You frowned in confusion and wrinkled your nose. You took another drink of wine as you tried to understand.

“I saw Wesley,” he said as he leaned on his elbow and pulled out his phone with his other hand, “I didn’t wanna say anything but… you’re here beating yourself up over him and-- just look.”

He slid his phone across the counter and you looked at the screen. Your entire body felt heavy and your veins filled with ice. You dropped your head into your hands as you tried to wipe the sight from your eyes; the image of your husband groping a woman in yoga pants, an act she wasn’t deterring.

“I knew it,” you sobbed as the tears burst forth and leaked down your palms, “I knew it. And why wouldn’t he? I’m old, ugly--” you sniffed and pulled your hands away to wipe them on your pants. Peter held out a paper towel and you took it as you avoided his eyes, “thank you but I think you should go. I’m humiliated enough.”

“You shouldn’t be alone,” he said as he climbed down from the stool and rounded the island, “he’s an asshole. He’s blind.”

“Please, Peter, just leave me alone,” you slid off the stool and he caught your shoulders. You looked up at him as you dabbed away the streaks of sadness with the paper towel, “Peter--”

“I’m not leaving,” he said firmly, “he’s out there having his fun, so why don’t you have some of your own?”

“Peter, that’s-- that’s wrong. I’m too old for you. And… I’m fat and--”

“You’re perfect,” he reached up to frame your chin with his hand, “you’re gorgeous,” his other hand trailed down your arm and to your hip, “that’s the first thing I noticed about you…” he pulled you closer and tapped your ass lightly.

“No, I can’t-- I just want to be alone,” you pushed on his arms and felt the thick biceps as he flexed and kept you close.

“Well, baby, what I want,” he turned you so that you were pinned between him and the island, “is for you to put on that perfume… I want you wearing nothing but that.”

“Peter,” you pushed on his chest that time and the hard muscle wall didn’t budge, “Peter, go--”

“Baby,” he bent and scooped you up suddenly.

His hands spread over your ass as he lifted you and crushed his lips against yours. You murmured in surprise and he placed you on the granite countertop. He parted from your lips as you sat up and he shoved your legs apart, inserting himself between your knees. He played with the bottom of the dress you’d worn in hopes of rekindling your dying marriage.

“We can go slow,” he tickled along your thighs and pulled back suddenly, “just a little at a time.”

He leaned in as he reached around you and grabbed the small white bag. He pulled out the perfume and snaked his hand around your neck. He pulled you to bend over him and he kissed your neck just before he sprayed a puff of perfume across your throat. He stood back and took a deep breath. He put the bottle on the counter and his hands went back to your skirt.

“Peter,” you caught his hands as they crept under the fabric, “please.”

You tried to slide forward and he stopped you as he grasped your hips and held you in place. He bit his lip as his eyes glimmered up at you. He drew a hand away and took the glass of wine and held it before your mouth.

“Drink, relax,” he cooed, “forget about him.”

You stared at him and he brought your hand up with his and wrapped it around the full body of the glass. He nudged it to your lips and watched you until you drank from the crystal rim. He smirked and lifted your skirt as he bent to bury his head beneath the folds.

You gulped and choked on the wine as your skirt fluttered down over his shoulders. You felt his finger on the lace trim of your panties and winced. He squeezed your thighs with his other hand and nuzzled the crotch of your underwear. You tried to close your legs but he kept them apart easily.

He curled his fingers under the elastic of your panties and tugged. He pulled until you lifted your ass just enough for him to get them free and he guided them down your legs before quickly parting them again.

You set down the glass and almost overturned it, the last mouthful splashing up the side. You pressed your hands to the granite and peered down at the shape of his head beneath your skirt. You gasped as his cool tongue grazed your warm folds and delved deeper.

“Peter…” you wisped and closed your eyes as you tried to hide from your own shame.

He purred as his tongue flicked over your clit and you twitched. He caressed the crease of your thigh with his fingers as he lapped at your, his other hand pressed against your stomach until you fell back across the counter. You arched your back instinctively and his hand cupped your tit through your dress.

He blindly pulled until your chest slipped out and pushed the cup of your bra as he teased your clit with his tongue. He felt along your cunt with his fingers and shoved his index inside of you. You moaned as he pushed another inside and curled them as he suckled on your bud.

Your core burned to life. Your entire being was set alight after months without affection. You quivered in delight and fear. Your nerves stormed both out of guilt and hunger. It felt so good but you knew it was wrong. The scent of the perfume filled your nose as your skin grew hot.

He moved his hand in time with his mouth as he doted on you. His touch intensified as your legs bent around the side of the island and your fingernails dragged along the granite, your voice rising without thought. He pinched your nipple and you cried out as you came in a wave of sheer pleasure and grabbed his wrist as you tried to steady yourself.

He eased off slowly as you trembled in the afterglow, his lingering touch tickled along your legs as he pushed your dress up. He pulled you to sit up and lifted the fabric over your head and ripped your sleeves free from your arms. He tossed as side the garment and swiftly covered your mouth with his so you tasted your own arousal on his tongue.

He unhooked your bra blindly and slid it off your arms. You were intensely aware of your nakedness and as you brought your arms up to cover yourself, he forced them down and ran his hands over your bare torso.

“Beautiful,” he said as he laid a trail of gentle pecks along your throat and chest, pausing to take a nipple in his mouth as he rolled the other between his fingers and sent a shiver through you.

He kneaded your sides and hips, his fingers danced along your thighs and he followed the path with his mouth, kissing and nipping your flesh. He lifted his head again as he took your hands and twined his fingers through yours. He tugged you gently until you slid off the counter and landed on your feet shakily.

“Baby, you’re so amazing,” he placed your hands on his chest and pushed them down his muscled torso and brought them back up beneath his tee shirt, “go on.”

He let you go and you continued to roll up his tee. He dipped his head and raised his arms to help you and you clung to the tee as it fell limp in your grasp. Dazed, he snatched the shirt from your hands and flung it. He once more pressed your hands to his chest and guided you in feeling the lines of his toned flesh.

He pushed your hands against the top of his jeans and leaned into you. He kissed your temple and whispered along your hairline, “turn around, baby.” He squeezed your ass and purred, “mmmm, please, I wanna see that ass.”

You blinked, dazed, and spun slowly. You caught yourself on the edge of the counter as your legs trembled and you heard the subtle zip. He kicked his foot between yours and pushed your legs apart as he led you back so that you were slightly bent against the island. He ran his nails down your back and gripped your hip with one hand as his other drew away from your skin.

You flinched as you felt his smooth tip against your ass and he rubbed it between your cheeks. You inhaled and held in your breath as his hold on your tightened and he angled his dick under your ass and grazed your cunt. He poked your entrance and pressed his chest to your back as his hand covered yours on the granite.

He slid into you and your voice fizzled in the air as he forced the air from your lungs. You pushed your head back and it met his shoulder as his other hand crawled down your front. He spread your folds with his fingers and swirled another around your clit as he tilted his hips and thrust into you slowly.

“Ah, Peter,” you slapped the counter and he shushed you as his hand left yours cold and his fingers stretched over your throat.

His motion picked up as the noise of him crashing into you echoed around the kitchen. Your eyes rolled back as he rammed into you even harder. You were on tiptoes as he was driven by the weak moans that leaked from your lips and your wet pleasure squelched around him. He pressed two fingers to your bud and rubbed until you squeaked and your thighs quaked around him.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, “I bet you never cum like that for him.”

You whined and he sped up again. He pinned you against the counter so that the lip pressed into your stomach. He took his hand from your cunt and pushed your head down as he kept his other hand around your neck. He didn’t waver once as he fucked you.

“Touch yourself, baby,” he commanded, “I want you to cum again for me. I know you want to too.”

His thick breath warmed the air and grazed your back as he held you down and his hold on your neck tightened until silver stars rose in your vision. Your feet dangled against the tile and you reached down to play with your clit as it buzzed. It was only seconds before you were murmuring in ecstasy once more.

“Fuck, baby, can you feel that? The way your clinging to me,” he puffed as he slammed into you over and over, “he can hardly fill you, can he? Hmmm? Little man.”

You wheezed as he choked you and his other hand kept your head pinned. You heard a distant creak but could barely do more than keep your fingers moving as your heartbeat deafened you. You came again and croaked as your cunt squeezed him hungrily.

“What the fuck?” the voice broke your lusty trance and suddenly you were pulled away from the counter.

Your head lulled as Peter held it up and turned you around, his pelvis slapping against your ass as you faced your husband. Your mouth hung open as your blurred vision barely registered the scene and the deep grunts only got louder behind you.

“Look who’s here,” Peter rasped as he snaked his arm around you.

“The fuck are you doing?” Wesley sneered as your eyes closed and your ass rang with each thrust.

“What you can’t,” Peter snickered, “doesn’t she look so happy?” He grasped your chin and pushed his fingers into your mouth as he held your head up, “well, you into watching or you gonna let us finish, old man?”

#peter parker #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #fic #peter parker x reader #dark fic #one shot #dark!fic #do us part #marvel #mcu #spider-man #avengers

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ask-storyteller-mimosa · 2 years

Text

The boyo is now 22

And he...

Decided to write a letter to people really important for him

Tw: death and war mention! Stay safe!

I'mma tag a couple of people

Mimosa is a dark cream shipchild inspired by @zu-is-here 's dark cream comic

Cross belongs to @jakei95

Shattered Dream belongs to @shattereddreamsau

Shine and Malignance belong to @creative-firebug

The rest of the characters (Lint, Mynn, "the messenger" aka Jasy ) in are mine, @bluepalleteuniverse

I used this website to turn the text into some sort of letter (I wanted to use Mimosa's font, "happy monkey", but was feeling too lazy to spent time searching how to do that)

Under the cut the same text but typed

Hello dads,

I'm finally writing to you like I wanted to for a long while. But it was hard to find the words, you know? Each time, I ended up crying and messing with the ink after the two first sentences. But I guess I'm more ready now. Am I really? Well, I'm as ready as I can. And it only took me what? 14 years! It has been a long while, uh. I'm no longer the child you knew.I'm 21 now. No, actually I'm 22, it's my birthday today. I lived longer without you two than with you now...

I have to warn you, Daddy, Dada, this letter will be long and probably messy. A lot of things happened in 14 years and I want to lie down on the paper many thoughts I had during those. So hum, story time ?

I don't think I'd muster the courage to make this letter without a recent someone's visit. You must have seen them before, they were carrying a message from you after all. And what a message it was. I'll write it down here. I know you surely remember it still but I'm gonna keep this letter anyway and I never want to forget it. I'll put it at the end of the paper so you can easily ignore it and I can easily find it to read later.

I never want to forget something that important ever again. Like I did with Mu when I was young. Yes, I remember Mu. I remember my dear little sister. And you were right, she was alive. I found her randomly when Lint dragged me- Lint is a friend who is also a half-sister? Like one of her parents is you, Daddy, but less dark ? Ok so, I found her during a play trip. She was in a house in an empty town nearby. Near where you died. Oh, I thought my hand would shake harder than that writing that! I guess time really heals anything...

Well almost. You're still pretty much dead. So I found her so no need to worry anymore! She's doing extra well! She decided to go to school in a deltarune au. You must know this kind of universe, well Fancy told me you knew and since he has your memories I think I can believe that information. Fancy is one of the persons who took care of Mu by the way. He's a nice guy. You would have found him a bit weird? Especially with the whole "I-was-born-from-a-war" thing. I should ask him what you'd think about him later...

Speaking about the war stuff...

Yes, I know why you left. However I'll do as if I didn't hear your message yet or learnt what I know for a second. I'm gonna be honest, a lot of things went through my mind that day and none of them including the fact you left without warning to fight in a war you'd die in. Once I learned the truth. I was relieved about one thing. You didn't leave because of me. I thought for long it had been my fault. That I had been a bad child that you ended up being fed up about. It's probably why I tried so hard to please anyone I'd reluctantly accept to get close enough to call them family. At least, that way of thinking did give me a new family. Plenty of siblings and friends spread across universes and multiverses. I never was truly alone since you left but for long I felt like I was alone even with others. I couldn't get the right words on it when I was young but I guess I really missed you. Yes, even you, Daddy, I don't blame you for shouting at me when Mu disappeared. Not that I think it was right of you to do that obviously. But I forgave you long ago. So don't you dare guiltrip yourself with that!

When I'm still not ready to forgive is the fact you didn't tell me you were leaving the house... Hey but I'll write you another letter when I'm ready. So don't you worry about that! And give me a bit of time. I promise I'll make an effort about that! :D

Also you know how you were worried about the fact I couldn't use magic ? Well except for vital stuff like seeing or eating. I can use magic! I still can't do stuff like throwing bones, summoning constructs, heal easily or just move my tentacles (I'm a bit salty I never manage to move these but life is life) but!

I can do portals !

Really inconvenient portals but still!

I use them to visit various universes and gather stories! Oh yes I forgot to tell you. I'm a sort of storyteller now? I move around, listen and tell stories to who's ready to listen. It's not a well-paid job or something very important but I like it. I know you'd prefer if I had been some kind of warrior however I stay pretty bad in a fight. I had plenty of people who tried to teach me some moves and it never stuck. Even if I did know how to fight, even then I'm not sure I would nonetheless. But I know how to dodge and I'm fast so I usually don't even have to think about fighting ! I wonder if you'd like my friends? Lint is a bit chaotic but always somewhat nice to others, Mynn is responsible but stubborn. Would you have liked my adoptive siblings, Shine and Malignance, as well ? They saved me. And continued to save me again and again since then. Without asking questions. I never felt alone with them. Well, I felt alone but I never truly was? I don't know if I'm making sense but I can't explain it any better.

What could I tell you other than that? Oh yes! I know what's up with my magic. A monster named "Sci" or was it a nickname ? He examined my soul. I know you told me to never show it to a stranger but it was a health matter. My family. Uh my new family I mean. They wanted to be sure I was ok. Because as you know, my healing is far worse than most. I didn't understand everything. But it's a matter of corruption, he told me. My soul and my magic doesn't like the corruption I was born with so they fight. They use all their strength to avoid that the corruption touch my soul and that's why I can't move my tentacles! They're just not connected to my soul ! Which sadly means I'll never be able to move them but at least I know why... I just hid them in my backpack these days, it's easier than dragging them around. I was told to avoid being low in magic and big stress? I'm not entirely sure why but I swear I'm being careful ! So don't you two worry about that. I'm making friends from everywhere and life is great. I still miss you sometimes. Often.

...

Do you know sewing with a knife isn't that hard? As long as the knife isn't too sharp and the string too thin it's pretty easy. I practiced for a while and now nobody would be able to guess I'm making my stitches with anything other than these horrendous things called "sewing needles". Let's not talk about those...

I'm running out of things to say, am I not? I need to say goodbye soon. But I don't want to. Not yet.

I waited so long, wishing to be able to say a proper goodbye. However, now that I have reached that moment... I don't want to anymore. I feel as if you two (or more so my memories of you two) will fade away the instant I write these final words?

Allow me to be selfish for a little longer, will you?

I need to end the letter soon, I'm starting to shake again.

But I just wanted you to know I survived alright. I couldn't follow all your advice as I got your message a bit late. And I would have loved to find the knives you were talking about but Fancy told me the house was destroyed... I don't need them anymore however.

I'm building my life.

I don't know where I am going exactly. But I am.

I am going.

Thanks for taking care of me for 8 years.

Your message or what I remember of it (and I asked the messenger to tell it again and again so I think I remember everything right):

"Mimosa my baby, we're sorry. So so sorry but you're gonna... You're gonna have to continue alone. We- We made a mistake and I can't imagine how you must be feeling right now. We shouldn't have left you alone like that. I guess we thought it would be quick. *Ugly chuckles* But now... We can't even come back and you're alone in this big house. And we were living such a hidden life that I know we were all you had. You never complained about that but I- no We were wrong and I can see that now. You don't even have any friends because of that. But after Mu... It was your lil' sister but you forgot about her. She disappeared when you were 4 and after that... We were afraid to loose you as well if we left you out too much... Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. We left the messenger a bunch of names and places you could ask for help. But I have no idea how many are still... there...

"Stop avoiding the words. They're dead. Probably all of them. We're dead, Mimi. We won't come back. You have to be strong and survive. You are strong and fast, not powerful, but you can do it. Flee when you can't win, be smart. If you see us again, you're allowed to punch as hard as you can then run. Run for your life. Steal, hurt, swear. I want you to do anything you have to do to live. Maybe you'll end up finding your little sister on the way."

"Dream…"

'No, I'm sure she's alive somewhere. If you find her, protect her. You're the big brother after all. Orange eyes. Mute girl. A tentacle around the neck. You can't miss her.

Take the knives I'm hiding under my pillow as well. And take care of yourself or else-

...

I love you you lil' crybaby"

"I love you too"

"Goodbye."

See you Daddy,

See you Dada,

your son,

Mimosa.

#long post #it long #messy writing #it's been quite a time since last time I posted here uh ;)#I should redrew the ref or stuff #I hope you enjoy reading that as much as I enjoyed writing that #it's so long and yet... not everything was said

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emeren · 3 years

Text

speed racer- eren jaeger

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader

word count: 6k

content warnings: nsfw, smut, 18+, smoking, degradation, overstimulation, breeding (w/o baby talk)

notes: 100% inspired by the official art, like mmm yes please. also i know absolutely nothing about how car racing works, but that’s not important. this is unedited because my brain turned to mush writing it. enjoy!! <3

SUMMARY: eren’s a semi-professional car racer, who has a tumultuous friendship with the reader. after losing a race, eren sets out to win something else in his life, much to the reader’s surprise.

“took you long enough!” sasha called out, holding her hand above her eyes in an attempt to block out the bright sun. you dished her a smile, weaving your way through the throngs of people in the stands, attempting not to step on anyone. your eyes briefly flitted to the track, the assistants distantly getting their cars ready. they were hardly visible from here; merely faceless figures idling around. you heaved out a sigh as you reached sasha, the brunette gingerly patting the spot next to her.

“you couldn’t have gotten better seats, sash?” you asked as you sat down, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head. sasha waved her large bag of popcorn in front of your face, an exasperated expression on her features.

“the line was long, and what’s a race without popcorn?” she grinned, offering you the bag. you rolled your eyes but took a fistful of the bright yellow snack nonetheless. “plus, if you really wanted that good of seats, you would’ve come early yourself.”

“i did come here early,” you retorted, your voice muffled by the popcorn. sasha raised a questioning brow, her elbow nudging you in the side.

“getting here early just so you can poke around the racer’s quarters is not the same thing,” she singsonged, a girlish smirk on her face. you scoffed, turning away from her as you felt heat race to your cheeks. “c’mon, everyone knows you and eren are totally into each other. i don’t understand why you guys don’t just go for it.”

“i wasn’t poking around, and i am not into eren,” you said, shifting uncomfortably as the words left your mouth. it was true, to some degree. the two of you had been friends in high school, back when eren was just some skinny kid with anger issues. now he was a semi-professional racer, and the rivalry between the two of you was palpable, to say the least.

you’d been in the same friend group and for some reason eren just loved to pick on you whenever he got the chance. you suspected it had something to do with his repressed daddy issues or whatever, and he’d known mikasa and armin far too long to be so catty with them. initially they were just playful taunts, but as you got older, they started to become more personal. with age came your own unchecked need to banter and argue with him.

somewhere along the way the arguments turned to sexual tension. a sexual tension that for the most part, the two of you were happy to ignore. it allowed room for a more sassy friendship, at least.

“uh huh, suuure,” sasha responded, seemingly unconvinced. she must’ve sensed your discomfort, deciding to change the topic. “who’s who?”

your eyes traced the track, analyzing each vehicle. “armin’s in yellow, mikasa’s in red, eren’s in white, and i believe levi is in green.”

“levi’s racing? isn’t he getting a little old for that?” sasha laughed, squinting. you chuckled.

“it’s just a small fundraiser race, plus he’s a crowd favorite over here,” you explained. sasha nodded as she processed the information. the sun was hot, beating down on your back. “i’m honestly surprised this many people came out.”

sasha tossed more popcorn in her mouth, halfway done with the bag despite the race still not having started. she offered it to you again. “mhm, this is the same type of crowd that we’d see in the underground.”

you thought back to your days of attending the illegal races, late at night and under the cover of darkness. though you were just a junior in college, it felt like those nights freshman year had been decades ago. that was before eren showed real promise in the professional circuit. it was also where levi scouted him out to be his successor.

as if on cue, you could see the figures of the racers emerging from the port, each headed for their respective cars. you couldn’t help the way your gaze immediately followed the tall, brown haired racer adorned in his white racing jacket, checkers on the side. the crowd erupted into cheers at the sight of the all the racers, one from each color of the rainbow. eren walked with a certain confidence, his adamant determination being one of the only things that followed him from high school.

though you couldn’t clearly see his face from where you sat, you knew he was smiling. eren had always loved the adrenaline rush before a race.

“alright ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to the annual shiganshina fundraiser race!” the reporter boomed over the intercom. sasha squealed in her seat, excitedly gripping your arm and pointing towards your friends. you felt a mix of excited nervousness waft over you, giggling along with her. “today we’ve got racers from all over the circuit, and each one has volunteered their precious time for the cause. can we get a round of applause?”

the crowd erupted in yet another ear deafening round of applause as the announcer read off the names of each of the racers. you and sasha made sure to scream your loudest when armin, mikasa, and eren’s names were read off.

you hoped they knew it was you, your throat scratchy as you sat back down. there was no need to be loud for levi; the entire crowd went absolutely feral at the mention of his name.

the announcer read off the conditions of the race, as well as the reasoning for the fundraiser itself. you and sasha chatted quietly about the after party while the racers put their helmets on and got in their cars. before too long, the announcer was gearing up for the start.

“alright everyone, we’re about to start. get yourselves ready.”

you and sasha stood, hollering and cheering for your friends as the cars all lined up. you knew you’d be happy if any of them crossed the finish line first, but it was undeniable that it would be eren. it wasn’t armin or mikasa’s passion like it was eren’s; they viewed it more as as fun hobby. nevertheless, you dreaded how smug eren would be once he added another win to his already growing list. he really was a bastard sometimes.

“racers ready your cars. 3... 2... 1... go!”

they were off, levi’s green car easily settling into first place, cruising past the other cars as he whipped around the first curve. you held your breath, eyes scanning the other cars placements. eren was in fourth, armin in fifth, and mikasa in second. sasha yelled sporadically, reaching out and squeezing your wrist tightly.

as they rounded the circuit for the second time, eren passed the third place racer, coming up behind mikasa’s red car. you held your breath. “c’mon eren...”

“shit! he passed her!” sasha screeched, jumping up and down. you smiled as he whipped the corner, nearly cutting the edge of the median.

“levi is still so far ahead,” you commented, trying to pry sasha’s death grip from your wrist. your eyes glanced to the clock, realizing that the race was near its finish. levi was cutting the third corner and eren was quickly gaining on him.

“looks like it’s gonna be clo-” sasha’s voice was cut off as a large man tripped over the bleacher behind you, effectively shoving you into her side. “shit, the popcorn!”

you regained your balance, giving the man behind you a dirty glare as you turned to sasha. she frowned at the popcorn that’d been spilled all over the ground. “what a waste!”

looking back up at the track, the crowd broke into screams of excitement. you expected to see eren’s face on the big screen to the side as confetti streamed through the air, but were surprised to see levi’s unimpressed stare.

eren lost?

“you’ve gotta be shitting me,” sasha gaped, her face slack in shock. you shrugged, shaking the feeling of disappointment from your shoulders. serves him right.

people started to vacate the stands, shoving their way past you as you turned to sasha. “let’s go find connie and jean, sash.”

she nodded, still frowning. the two of you climbed down the steps, going against the flow of the crowd as you weaseled your way down onto the spectators path. you could see all of the racers shaking hands, congratulating each other. your mind briefly considered whether or not eren was going to be upset, but you decided not to dwell on it.

you watched as the racers disappeared into the tunnel, eren’s tall figure no longer in view. just then, connie and jean came walking out from the service booth, both wearing their maintenance coveralls.

sasha wildly waved her arm, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the remaining stragglers towards your friends.

“hey guys!” she smiled, the boys jogging to meet you halfway.

“why were you guys in such shit seats?” connie asked, skipping over a greeting. you let out a small laugh at sasha’s expense. she merely shrugged, turning to jean.

“we going to your place?” you questioned before she had the chance. jean nodded, adjusting the backwards baseball cap on his head.

“yeah, just gotta wrap some things up, then we can head out,” he replied. you grew happy at the thought of kicking back with your friends, enjoying a nice night of fun. parties at jean and connie’s place were always the best.

***************

“some race that was,” connie groaned, leaning back and bringing the beer bottle to his lips. so far it was just you, sasha, connie, jean, and a bunch of random drunk people who’d come from the track. sasha scoffed from her spot on the worn, brown couch.

“you could say that again,” she grumbled. “we didn’t even get to see levi cross the finish line ‘cause some guy rammed into us.”

jean looked at you from where he leaned against the wall, a bottle in his hand and his eyebrows raised. “wait, for real?”

“yeah,” you sighed, drinking whatever bitter liquid sasha had poured into your red solo cup. “didn’t even say sorry.”

“how many times do i have to tell you guys, just come work maintenance with jean-boy and i,” connie suggested, wrapping his arm around sasha’s shoulder and giving a squeeze. she rolled her eyes and shoved him off. “you guys would get to watch the race from the track itself.”

“i don’t know the first thing about cars,” sasha laughed, you nodding along with her.

“and you think we do? i just said that so we could get the best seats in the house,” connie snorted, taking another swig of his drink. you chuckled at his idiocy, unfazed by yet another one of their stupid stunts. “where’re the big racers anyway?”

“they should be here soon,” you responded, glancing out the window. jean was unironically blasting the fast and the furious soundtrack, something he’d done after every race for as long as you’d known him. by now the songs were ingrained in your brain.

“who wants to bet jaeger is in a pissy mood?” jean snorted as he moved to sit down on the arm of the chair you were planted in.

“when isn’t he?” you sneered. connie and sasha hummed in agreement. both you and jean loved nothing more than to push eren’s buttons. you knew jean’s motives stemmed from some boyish fun, whereas yours felt a little more personal.

the sound of clapping began to compete with the music, your neck craning to look past jean into the hallway. eren, armin, and mikasa came into view, people cheering them on and patting them on the back. they each wore their racing jackets over their street clothes.

you felt a familiar sensation burn in your stomach at the sight of eren. his dark hair was pulled back per usual, wispies framing his tan face. The white jacket stood out against his black t-shirt and black jeans; key necklace he always wore glinting against his chest. as your gaze travelled up from his body, you were startled to make contact with his teal eyes. you quickly glanced away in embarrassment.

“well, well, well,” jean cheered, raising his bottle to the trio. “how’d it feel to lose to a short, old man, eh jaeger?”

eren scowled, obviously peeved. “if i had to lose to anyone, i’m glad it was levi.”

connie snorted at that. “man, professional circuit has you soft.”

“whatever you say, baldie,” eren smirked mischievously as he came to sit down on the couch. connie defensively rubbed his head. “at least i’m making money in prof.”

“i still can’t believe you have people that actually want to sponsor you,” you snipped, a playful expression on your face. eren lazily looked towards you, the familiar irritation laced in his eyes.

“i’m sorry, what was that? i wasn’t listening to you,” eren retorted, looking as unbothered as ever. you glared at his words, but caught armin’s disapproving eye and decided to stay quiet.

as the night carried on, you watched your friends relax and reminisce about previous races and the days spent in the illegal ring. it seemed crazy that your life was so centered around car races, when you weren’t even a racer yourself. but you supposed you were just happy to be supporting your friends.

at some point you got up out of your chair to refill your cup. the large hoards of people had started to dance; the house feeling hot and humid as you shoved your way to the kitchen. luckily the room was empty, save for armin who was drinking water out of the kitchen tap.

“thirsty?” you asked, amused. his head snapped up, surprised by your voice. it took one look to tell he was absolutely trashed, face red and eyes half lidded. he smiled goofily and nodded his head before stumbling back out into the crowd of people.

you quickly filled your cup, following the direction armin had gone. as you stepped out of the kitchen, a body came out of nowhere and smacked into you.

eren jumped back, trying to avoid the liquid that sloshed out of your cup. “hey, watch it!” he hissed.

“you watch it, casanova,” you snapped, irritated by the sticky alcohol that dripped down your hand. eren’s eyes narrowed at the nickname, his arms defensively crossing his chest.

“i told you not to call me that,” he bit back, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. you rolled your eyes, instinctively bringing your hand to your mouth in an attempt to lick the drink off. eren watched you, his gaze clouded with an indiscernible emotion. you knew what you were doing.

“hm. too bad,” you quipped, dragging your tongue down the side of your hand, popping your pointer finger in your mouth. eren glowered at you as you let out a giggle. “see ya, loser.”

“whatever, brat,” he huffed, shaking the tension from his pants as you sauntered off into the crowd. he hated the effect you had on him.

you’d already decided not to get shit faced. while the rest of your friends had chosen otherwise, you danced alongside them, your resolve wearing thin much faster than theirs. jean and sasha bounced happily up and down, screaming the lyrics to whatever song it was blasting from the speakers. connie and mikasa were playing beer pong, and you had no clue where armin and eren had gone.

you heaved in a breath as a sharp pain shot through your side, signaling the end of your dancing career for the night. your two dance partners were too far gone to notice, waving goodbye to you as you stepped out of the sweaty crowd.

slipping your phone out of your pocket, your eyes nearly popped from your head at the time. two thirty?!

only slightly tipsy, you decided to find jean’s room and call it a night. he’d just have to sleep on the couch. with one hand dragging on the wall, you made your way through the house, past armin who was doing body shots with a couple of strangers, up the stairs and down the dark hall. it was quieter up here, but you could still hear the music and knew it’d be awhile till sleep visited you.

shoving jean’s door open, you were surprised to see none other than eren laid back on the bed, puffs of smoke coming from his mouth. the strong scent of weed hit your nostrils, nose scrunching up in reflex. he propped himself up on one arm upon your entrance, eyeing you.

“oh, sorry i’ll just- wait a minute,” you paused, narrowing your eyes at him. “you aren’t supposed to be smoking on your sponsorship.”

eren let out a loud laugh at that, more smoke spilling from his lungs. “thanks, mom. i know.”

you stood in the doorway, not really sure what to do. “jean’s gonna be mad if his room smells like weed tomorrow.”

“yeah, why do you think i chose to do it in here?” he leered, bringing the blunt to his lips and deeply inhaling, sharp cheekbones protruding with the action. you sucked in a breath, not wanting to acknowledge just how gorgeous he was. his jacket was off, black shirt tightly gripping his muscular yet slender arms as he propped himself up. he blew the smoke from his nostrils this time, making your face heat. “wanna hit?”

you sighed, weighing the options. jean’s bed was a lot more comfortable than connie’s. you could just wait till eren was done, and then pass out. “no, but i’ll wait with you till you’re done.”

“suit yourself, brat,” eren hummed, flopping back down on the bed as you shut the door behind yourself. you came to sit by him, looking down as he heaved in a sober breath. he really is beautiful, you thought.

your eyes scanned his face. “you really shouldn’t be smoking, you know. you could lose the sponsorship.”

eren rolled his teal eyes, giving you a side glance. “i’m aware. i’m also aware that you aren’t going to rat on me.”

“and what makes you so sure?” you asked playfully, your voice low. eren’s gaze shifted to you, placing the blunt between his lips as he sat up, face inches from yours.

“because. you can act like you hate me all you want,” smoke blew from his lips as he spoke, slowly inching his face closer to yours. you swallowed, eyes struggling to maintain contact with his dark stare. “but i know how badly you want me.”

you blinked, heart rate accelerating as he glanced at your lips. “speaking from experience?”

eren’s mouth quirked up in a smirk at your words. “something like that.”

you watched with desire as he brought the bud of the blunt up to his lips, deeply inhaling the toxic smoke. he lifted his free hand, pointer finger gently tracing your jaw as his thumb came up to caress your chin. he tapped softly against your face, as if asking you to open your mouth.

you weren’t sure what part of you was wanting to submit to his every move. maybe it was the alcohol. or maybe it was the accumulation of sexual tension. something told you it was a deeper itch that needed to be scratched. an itch only eren could reach.

you parted your lips, eyes fluttering as eren leaned forward and carefully brushed his own against yours, dumping his lungful of smoke into your mouth. you breathed it in, fighting the urge to cough and whine as he pulled away.

“good girl,” he breathed, leaning away to snuff the bud out on jean’s bedside table. you heaved out as much as you could, shocked by your own willingness. you were mainly surprised by how much you enjoyed whatever that was.

you stared at him expectantly as he turned back to you, a serious expression on his face. “eren.”

“yes?” he asked, leaning heavily on his arm, eyes unashamedly focused on your lips. his other hand came up again, lightly ghosting your jawline. you could feel yourself growing wet between your legs; the way eren was fucking you with his eyes sending an unwelcomed throb to your clit.

acting on impulse, you lurched forward, latching your lips onto eren’s slightly chapped ones. he wasted no time in kissing you back; hungrily pressing himself closer to your body. his lips were warm and tasted like weed and coca cola, his tongue wiggling its way into your mouth where you happily welcomed it.

you brought your hand up, wanting to run your fingers through his hair, but were stopped when they got caught in the bun. eren grunted, kissing you harder and bringing his own hand up to yank the tie from his locks, letting his soft hair fall to his shoulders.

your fingers were quick to glide through the brown strands, scratching his scalp in the process. some throaty sound emitted from his chest, the noise making your cunt ache in need. how is he so hot?

eren’s hands came to your waist, roughly shoving you down onto the bed, so that he hovered above you. your lips continued to meld together, saliva coated mouths wetly intertwined. you removed your hand from his hair, bringing both hands to run down the expanse of his arms that were on either side of your head. you squeezed his biceps, surprised when he suddenly pulled away.

“is this okay?” he panted, breaths labored. his pupils were dilated, all seriousness behind his gaze. you nodded your head without hesitation, practically begging him to continue. “words.”

“yes, yes. i want this just as much as you do,” you responded. eren smirked from above you, his dark hair swirling around his face as his key dangled in front of your chin.

“good, because,” he leaned down to your ear, lightly nibbling the lobe as the cold key rested against your throat. “i’m going to punish you for all these years of torture.”

your eyes widened, the words sending a desirable chill down your spine. “torture?”

eren’s hot mouth travelled slowly from your ear down the side of your neck, lightly peppering the skin with lustful kisses. his tongue came out as he reached your collarbone, dragging the wet muscle up the front of your throat, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake. a small whimper involuntarily left your mouth as he pulled back, grabbing your chin in his large hand.

“all of the nicknames,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “the quips,” and another, your chest tightening. “the stunt you pulled earlier with your hand. oh god. it’s like you were practically begging me to bend you over and teach you a lesson.”

he pulled back, dark eyes boring into yours. the desire was palpable, your breathing shallow as he stared at you. it was like he was waiting for some silent agreement.

you held eye contact, tilting your chin back ever so slightly in his grip. “good thing i learn fast.”

your words flew straight to his cock, throbbing uncomfortably behind his jeans. eren let go of your chin, his lips hungrily reconnecting with yours as his hands pinned your wrists to either side of your head. his tongue was quick to invite itself into your mouth, warm and erotic.

you wanted to tug on his hair again; wanted to hear his primal groans and feel him vibrate against your mouth, but you were pinned to the bed. desperate to hear eren moan, your teeth grazed his bottom lip, the action making him yank his head back.

“tsk tsk, none of that,” he growled, wet lips glinting in the low light of the room. “this is your punishment. guess we’re going to have to do something else.”

you frowned as he let go of your wrists, lifting himself from the bed and standing. you propped yourself up on your elbows, eyes laced with desire as eren swiftly pulled the black shirt over his head, key pendant resting on his newly exposed chest. he was dangerously attractive like this; dark hair disheveled on his shoulders, only adding to the feral stare he was giving you.

he leaned forward, grabbing your thighs and yanking you to the end of the bed, legs dangling from the side. you watched in awe as he dropped to his knees, fingers coming up to toy with the button of your jean shorts.

“these little shorts make your ass look so good,” he grumbled, tapping the button. “be good and take them off for me.”

you wasted no time in lifting your ass off the bed, struggling to yank the denim down your legs without hitting eren in the face. he watched your every movement, licking his lips as you wiggled them off.

without thinking, your hands gripped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal a black bra. eren’s pupils dilated further at the unexpected sight of your breasts.

he helped pull the shorts from your ankles, tossing them aside as you sat back down, just in your panties and bra. you paused for a moment, unsure of what he was planning to do.

“watch me,” he demanded, staring at you through his brows. you nodded your head, breath hitching as he placed an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, tongue swiping against the smooth skin.

his eyelashes fluttered as he licked up your leg; just the way he looked at you being enough to have you creaming in your lace panties. your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, the burning in your face mirroring the way your clit throbbed along with your heart beat.

eren’s tongue trailed until he reached the edge of your underwear, eyes never failing to stay connected with yours. you swallowed as he lifted his head, placing his tongue flatly against your clothed clit.

it was a warm, muted feeling, your body all too aware of the beautiful man between your legs. eren brought his fingers up, hooking under the fabric and pushing it to the side.

“so wet for me already,” he hummed, a smile on his face. you blushed in embarrassment, the feeling of his breath on your glistening pool of moisture making you shiver. “’m gonna eat you so good, little bitch.”

you gasped as eren rapidly brought his face down, burying his head between your legs. the sensation was like no other; a swirling feeling in your stomach as his tongue hungrily swiped against your clit. your hands flew down to his hair, tugging as his lips wrapped around the bud, suckling softly.

a moan escaped your lips, the sound causing eren to groan out in reply. the vibration of his vocal cords against your center amplifying the pleasure.

a distinct feeling began to burn in your chest, the sloppiness of eren’s tongue licking up your slick causing your legs to squirm, tightening around his head. “fuck.”

eren pulled back at the pressure against his skull, a smack sounding through the air as he released his suction on your wet cunt.

“i told you to be good,” he hissed, lips coated in your sheen. you knew the image of eren’s face between your legs, hair disheveled and mouth swollen, eyes dark and lustrous, would be burned into the back of your brain.

flustered, you nodded your head, spreading your legs so they weren’t pressing against his face. he nodded in content, arms coming up to wrap around your thighs to keep you steady.

and he was back; eating your pussy like he hadn’t been fed in years, a primal desperation. he pressed his tongue down harder, the cry ripping from your throat at the sensation only egging him on. you struggled against his grip as he abused your clit with his mouth, sucking and tracing his teeth over it so good.

his tongue slid down to your entrance, shoving itself in without invitation. the fullness wasn’t like having sex; it was a heated, swirling feeling. the wet muscle circled around your spongey walls, your face beginning to burn and hands growing clammy in eren’s hair.

you threw your head back as his ministrations sped up, your hips attempting to grind into his face. the warmth in the pit of your stomach building like a loaded gun, ready to release itself.

all it took was the added pressure of his hand wrapping around your thigh so that his thumb could press against your clit, feverishly rubbing. you came crashing down, your eyes screwing shut as the wave of dopamine stretched to every part of your body, legs jerking against his hold.

eren pulled his head back again, a smile on his wet face as he licked your release from his lips. “tasted so good, so good for me.”

you breathed out in reply as he came back up above you, gently taking your chin and bringing his mouth down to yours.

the kiss was small and simple, your eye lids growing heavy. you could taste your bitter release on him, the unfamiliar flavor not completely unpleasant.

“sleepy?” eren mumbled against your lips, coming back to look at you. you nodded your head, eyes catching on the key that dangled from his neck. “too bad. we aren’t done with your punishment yet.”

you frowned, your body suddenly more awake than it was before. “huh?” you asked, sitting up as eren shifted to pull his jeans off.

you weren’t sure what you expected when he yanked both his jeans and boxers down; you guessed you’d always thought his anger issues were compensation for something. the realization dawned on you that eren had nothing to compensate for as his cock sprung from his pants, the sheer size making your mouth water.

a smirk crossed his face as he stepped from his jeans. “enjoying the view?”

“what? no,” you scoffed, averting your gaze. eren crawled back over you, his bare length pressing into your stomach as his hands came up to unclasp your bra.

“don’t be shy, this is your punishment after all,” he whispered, pulling the cups from your chest. his eyes unashamedly scanned your breasts, a smile tugging his lips as he gave them a generous squeeze.

you tried to ignore the imprint of him on your stomach; but it was nearly impossible. you could feel the spot between your legs grow wet again, arousal already weaseling its way back into your system.

eren brought his lips to yours once again, the kisses much sloppier and desperate than before. he grunted as you shifted to lay back down, his exposed dick rubbing against your stomach. “can’t wait to be inside of you,” he mumbled against your lips.

you whimpered at his words, his lips melding with your own while he simultaneously tugged your panties down your legs. he propped himself up with one arm, the other positioning the tip of his cock at the entrance of your already throbbing cunt.

you took a deep breath as he slowly eased himself into you; the sheer stretch making your eyes lull back in your head. eren moved his hips slowly at first, loosening you up. he was watching your expressions; his eyelids heavy and mouth slightly agape.

“shit, you’re so tight,” he groaned, hips starting to move faster as he gazed down at you. you swallowed, closing your eyes as he sent one particularly hard thrust, cock nearly ramming your cervix. “you good?”

“mhm,” you responded, bringing your hands up to grab his hair. “just so big.”

eren let out a breathy chuckle at that, eyes traveling down to your pelvis where his dick was visibly creating a bump with every thrust. he placed his hand on your stomach, pressing down as he bucked his hips violently forwards. he was so deep.

you cried out at the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your cunt, your walls clenching around him as your hands clawed at his muscular back.

he was filling you up so good, a moan leaving his lips as your enhanced arousal unexpectedly brought your second orgasm down, tears pricking your eyes. eren kept abusing your pussy, his thrusts growing senseless before he buried himself deep within you, releasing his load inside of your exhausted center.

both of your breathing was labored, eren looking up at the ceiling. his face was flushed as he recovered, you laying limply beneath him trying to regain your composure yourself.

“that felt so good,” you admitted, bringing your hand up from his back to caress his angular face. eren frowned at your words, large hand grabbing your wrist and removing it from his jawline.

“m’not tired yet,” he said seriously, your eyes widening as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. your fucked out face beneath him had his dick already hardening again. “m’not gonna be tired till i win.”

he suddenly pulled up, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing your legs up by your head. the action strained your muscles, the feeling of eren’s cum dripping down your ass filling your head as he readied himself to fuck you senseless.

he stared at your cunt; at the way his cum was oozing out of it, the abused pussy ready to take him in again. he used his fingers to catch the drip, forcing it back inside of you. the thought of filling you up all nice and pretty sent him over the edge, his hand shamelessly guiding his cock back inside of you.

eren was meaner this time; each thrust was deep and deliberate, hitting your cervix and making you cry out in pleasure. the burning sensation in your clit was overwhelming, your mouth hanging open as eren slowly fucked you stupid.

“good, pretty girl” eren breathed out, ramming his hips into yours. “took her punishment like such a good girl.”

you tried to nod your head, but you couldn’t move. the feeling of hot, sticky tears rolled down your face, eren’s cock deep within you almost too much to bear. he grabbed your chin, tongue swiping up your cheek as he savored the salty flavor on his tastebuds. this man and his licking.

“tell me, did you learn your lesson?” eren grunted in your ear, hand still gripping your chin. you tried to form a sentence, fucked beyond words. “hm, use your words and i’ll let you cum.”

one more deep thrust and his dick stopped its strokes, pausing within you. “yes... yes.”

“yes what?”

your tongue was heavy in your mouth, pussy all too aware of eren’s length within it. “i learned my lesson, you won.”

he smirked, aggressively bucking his hips into your weak cunt, the action making you cry out as he rammed your cervix. the tears continued to roll down your cheeks as eren’s dick twitched, spurting the his seed into you. your third release followed his, your clit spasming from the overstimulation.

eren heaved himself out of you, collapsing deftly onto the bed. the two of you sat in a heated silence, your face sticky from the tears. eren glanced to you, eyes trailing down your body.

“i’ll get a rag,” he mumbled, shoving off the bed and walking into jean’s bathroom. you were beyond exhausted and knew that you’d be sore tomorrow. eren reemerged, quickly cleaning you up and handing you your shirt.

your eyes lazily watched him as he walked over and locked the door; brain too tired to form a sentence.

he must’ve noticed your concern. “we can sleep in here tonight; i don’t think you’re in any shape to move.”

you carefully crawled into the sheets, not even bothering to put your shirt back on. eren followed suit, climbing in behind you.

“night,” he whispered as he shut the bedside light off. your lids were growing heavy, a smile on your lips as you began to fall asleep.

“night, casanova.”

<3 <3 <3

#eren jaeger #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren #eren x reader #eren smut #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren jäger #this is so bad im sorry

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sirenascales · 3 years

Text

-> double black [part one] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPov!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

A night out drinking leads to a small misunderstanding with a handsome, yet dangerous man. [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader]

3,894 words

note: edited this so it could still be read as a reader fic! it's actually a lot of fun writing in first person! hope those who read this enjoy my first bsd fic!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist

I've experienced a lot of amazing things since I've moved to Japan. A new job in a different country, new co-workers and friends, work parties, themed bars, cafes, and hookups with pretty strangers. There was a long list of great things I've had going on, and a long list of things I've never expected... and being fired from the job I had for a year was not one of them.

"A year of hard work... for nothing," I mumbled bitterly as I sat at the bar with my close friend, and now ex-coworker, Keiko. She was beautiful, with long black hair and brown eyes. She frowned, a sympathetic look on her pretty face as she sighed.

"I'm so sorry," she said softly, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "I'm sure you'll find something else soon! You have an awesome resume, and you're an amazing worker who can speak English, Japanese AND Spanish... there is totally a place for you out there!"

Keiko has always been supportive and enthusiastic, a really bright and friendly girl who made it her mission to befriend me as soon as I started working with her. She was relentless, and soon enough, I found myself spending many hours with the woman.

"Yeah..." I just mumbled again and she laughed softly.

"It's okay to mope... that's why I brought you here!"

"Yeah, about that," I started, sending Keiko a look as I swiveled the stool so my body faced her. "Why did you bring me here?" As soon as the work day was done, Keiko immediately dragged me to what was clearly a mafia bar. That didn't surprise me, since she was actually dating a mafioso.

A mafioso, who was part of the Port Mafia. It wasn't long after I moved to Yokohama that I started to hear stories about the organization, and was also warned not to cross them. Of course, with my luck, I became best friends with someone who dated someone who was in the Port Mafia. How a sweet girl like Keiko ended up with a man like him, I'll never know.

What I do know is that Taichi adored Keiko, gave her everything she could possibly want and need with the money he makes, and that was just being a normal grunt! Even so, it was dangerous, but Keiko didn't seem to mind.

"I come here with Taichi all the time," Keiko answered, sipping her drink. I turned to sip on my own. "You can't tell me it isn't luxurious." It was. My jaw had dropped to the floor when we first stepped into the very luxurious bar. "Don't worry about it, okay? Drink your sadness away! You're safe here. Since I am Taichi's woman, and you're with me, nothing will happen, okay?"

"Where is Taichi anyway?" I asked, glancing over her shoulder when I spotted a group of men walking in through the entrance. I missed the way the light left Keiko's eyes, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously. My eyes were on the men, which in the middle was a man with orange hair, a black hat adorning his head. I felt my breath hitch in my throat, my eyes looking at the very handsome man up and down. I swallowed thickly.

"He had a job tonight and couldn't make it. He'll be home to- hey, what are you looking at?" Annoyed at me ignoring her, she turned in her seat, a shocked look on her face before she smiled tightly.

"Taichi! I thought you had an assignment!"

"Hey, babe! We finished early, which was quite surprising, honestly."

The couple embraced and I barely registered the mushy love between the two as I watched the ginger man lead the rest of the group further into the bar. He walked by me, and before I knew it, dark blue eyes were staring right at me, eyebrows furrowed.

"The hell are you looking at?" he sneered and my face turned red, heart dropping in my chest.

"No one! I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, quickly turning back around and facing the bar.

"Tch. Whatever," the man only responded before walking off.

"You look like a cherry," Taichi said, clearly amused. I sent him a half-hearted glare, Keiko slapping his chest lightly.

"Be nice to her. She got fired today."

"Ohh, that sucks. If you need help-"

"She won't take it," Keiko said with a huff. "Stubborn ass."

I rolled my eyes at her, biting my lip nervously as I fiddled with my glass. "So uh... who was that guy? With the hat?"

Taichi blinked. "Oh, that's Chuuya Nakahara."

"Is he part of the Port Mafia?"

Taichi barked out a laugh, Keiko giggling softly behind her hand.

"Baby... he's an executive. Chuuya works closely with the leader of the Port Mafia."

"And I work under Chuuya," Taichi finished, amused at how wide my eyes have gotten at the answer.

"You mean to tell me... I pissed off... an executive member..." I was dismayed, heart pounding in my chest.

"Hmm, probably. Don't go home alone tonight," Taichi grinned as I balked, clearly having fun torturing me.

"Taichi! Babe, don't listen to him."

I gulped nervously, downing the rest of my drink before signaling to the bartender to get me another one.. "R-right..." Despite my better judgment, I turned my head, looking towards the obvious VIP section of the bar. Chuuya sat with some other grunts, a glass of what seemed to be red wine in his hand. Of course, his eyes found mines yet again and I whipped my head back around. Fuck, I did it again! I quickly downed the newly made drink, unaware of Chuuya's eyes narrowing as he watched me.

"Nooo, do you have to go?" a drunk Keiko whined as she latched onto my arm, a forever amused Taichi watching on. "Don't leave me with hiiiiiiim."

"I want to go home, dammit," I huffed, successfully peeling her off of me and handing her to her boyfriend. "I have to start job hunting tomorrow. Thank you for bringing me here, I do feel better and I love you but... I'm tired."

"Ugh, you are such an old lady!" Keiko whined again and I couldn't help but laugh, turning to start walking towards the exit.

"Goodnight, you too. Please get her home safe, Taichi."

"I wouldn't count on it~"

I rolled my eyes at his teasing, leaving the two behind as I left the bar. I stepped out into the cool night air, shivering a bit as I closed my cardigan tightly around me. I wore a simple but cute outfit; a black dress with burgundy tights underneath, black flats on my feet and my favorite tan cardigan over the entire outfit. It helped me fight off a bit of the cold, but as I started to walk down the block, I grabbed my phone to start searching through my usual rideshare app.

I didn't get far. My phone cluttered to the ground as it fell out my hands, a gasp leaving my mouth as I was slammed against the nearby brickwall of a narrow, dark alleyway.

"Who the fuck are you?" a familiar voice hissed and I'm shocked to find Chuuya Nakahara glaring daggers at me, his strong hands pinning my arms against the wall. He growled when I didn't answer. "Answer me! Who sent you here?!"

"N-No one!" I cried out, shaking like a leaf. Of course, of course I would be confronted by a fucking high level member of one of the most dangerous organizations in Japan. "I swear, I just came here with my friend."

Chuuya growled again and he flipped me around, pressing my front against the wall. "Stay still," he grunted, and my face started to heat up as I felt his gloved hands quickly feel along my body. He was frisking me, and I gulped when he shoved his hand under my dress, producing the knife I had strapped to my thigh.

"I carry that to protect myself," I immediately explained, Chuuya turning me around again to face him. His eyes were still narrowed, staring me down as if trying to figure out what the hell I was up to.

"And the bouncer didn't pat you down?" he questioned and I shook my head quickly.

"No, he didn't pat me or Keiko down."

"Tch, that's Taichi's woman," he said, though he still looked at me with narrow eyes, hesitating a bit before he turned my knife in his hand, handing it back to me hilt first. "You sure know how to make yourself look suspicious."

I cringed a bit as I strapped my knife to my thigh strap again. I missed how Chuuya's eyes lingered, him licking his lips. "That's my fault I... I know I was staring..." I could feel my face heat up again and I couldn't even look Chuuya in his face. "S-sorry if I creeped you out. I don't mean any harm. Keiko brought me here 'cause I got fired and she wanted to help me feel better..."

"Hm," was his only reply, crossing his arms over his chest. "What you do to fuck up?"

My mouth fell and I sputtered as I tried to come up with the words. "What do you mean?! I didn't fuck up!" I protested. "It literally came out of nowhere! I worked my ass off all year, only to get fired 'cause I wasn't what they needed anymore. Fucking bullshit."

Chuuya was amused by my little vent, snickering a bit as he gave me a quick look up and down. "I'm sure it wasn't your winning personality."

I scoffed. "Says the one that shoved a random woman against a wall?! That hurt, you bastard!"

Chuuya raised his eyebrows at me, and I immediately slapped my hands over my mouth.

Oh no. Fuck, I forgot who I was talking to.

Chuuya snickered again, his eyes flashing in amusement. He stepped closer to me, making me press back against the wall again. Chuuya leaned his face close to mine, a smug smirk on his face as he spoke.

"Be careful who you talk to like that," he hummed, and I shivered despite feeling some of his body heat. "Someone might just cut out your tongue for talking back like that. Me? Well, it'd be a waste, especially when I think of all the things I could make you do with it."

I squeaked, the heat never leaving my face as I stared at Chuuya with a puzzled expression on my face. The sudden switch up was giving me whiplash... and lowkey turning me on. "I..." I stuttered, looking away and finally noticing my phone still on the ground. "Crap, I hope it's not broken."

I rushed over to pick my phone up, ignoring Chuuya's hard stare on me. I looked over my phone, sighing in relief when I saw that it had sustained no damages.

Chuuya then stepped up to me, jerking his head back towards the bar before walking off. "Let me take you home. Take that as an apology for being so rough on you."

I blinked. "Um..."

"Hurry up!"

"Okay!" I squeaked and followed after the man quickly, chewing on my lip as I asked myself... what the fuck was I doing? Am I really about to get inside this man's car? He was a stranger! Who frisked me! Let alone, he is clearly a dangerous man.

I must be insane.

"Tell me," Chuuya started and I was dumbfounded as he approached a rather cool looking motorcycle. No way. "What the hell were you being so creepy for?" He turned to me and asked, an all-knowing smirk on his face. I blushed deeply. Of course, he already was able to figure it out once he realized that I wasn't a threat.

"No reason," I huffed out, earning a low laugh as Chuuya grabbed the only helmet I could see. I looked at him confused, gasping when he unceremoniously placed the helmet over my head. "What about you?"

"I don't need it," Chuuya simply answered before he finally mounted his bike. "Come on, you little liar. Hop on."

I couldn't help but stare, my mouth going dry as I took in the image of this handsome bastard with his bike. The engine roared as he turned it on, revving it a bit and making me make a mess in my panties.

"Hey, ya done eyefucking me, dollface?"

I sputtered. "I was NOT eyefucking you!" I stormed over to the bike, glaring at the grinning bastard as I climbed onto the bike behind him.

Chuuya snorted. "Yeah, like you weren't eyefucking me earlier in the bar," he retorted, easily reaching behind him to grab my wrists, pulling me against his back as he wrapped my arms around him. I was stunned silent, from his words, and his actions and the fact that his back felt so solid.... and he smelled so good...

"I was not..." I mumbled, pressing my cheek against his back. "Shut the fuck up."

He laughed darkly, and that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Where do you live?" Chuuya asked and I hesitantly told him my address. "I know where that is. Hold on."

"You do? It's on the other side of the city," I said and Chuuya just chuckled softly, looking over his shoulder and smirking at me.

"And who exactly runs this city?"

I clamped my mouth shut, his eyes staring into mine. I blushed and looked away from him. He turned his head back around with an amused laugh, the engine revving as he took off on his bike.

"Hold tight, dollface!"

He didn't have to tell me twice, my arms tightening around his torso as he sped down the street, weaving in and out of traffic. It was scary, but also so fucking exhilarating. My heart was thudding in my chest, my eyes watering because of the wind. Still, I kept them open, wanting to watch the world blur by us. Chuuya made a sharp, right turn, making me scream while he laughed loudly.

"Man up!" he yelled at me.

"Stop driving like a crazy person!" I yelled back.

I didn't see the large, almost evil smirk that grew on Chuuya's face. Didn't see him licking his lips excitedly as he eyed a rather tall building coming up ahead.

"Tell me, dollface," he hollered back at me, revving the engine and I gulped as I held him tighter, his bike going faster. A bad feeling started to settle in my stomach, balking when he asked his next question. "Do you want to defy gravity?"

I didn't have time to answer, not when I finally realized that we were heading right towards the side of the building. I couldn't even scream, fear striking me as I suddenly started to see red, body jostling as Chuuya maneuvered the bike to jump in the air.... before landing perfectly on the side of the building and continuing vertically up towards the sky.

"Don't let go!" Chuuya sneered. Like that was ever going to happen.

I didn't dare turn my head to look down, my wide eyes staring up into the night sky as we made it closer to the top of the building. I couldn't even think straight, my body just running on nothing but adrenaline and fear.

"Ch-Chuuya!" I gasped out sharply, the bike finally making it to the roof of the building. Chuuya didn't slow down though, only barreling towards the edge and I started to panic. "Chuuya! What are you doing?!"

Chuuya only snickered, revving the engine once more before sending the bike flying off the edge of the building. I squeak and screw my eyes shut, pressing my face against the middle of his back. I didn't want to watch us plummet to our doom.

"Hey, idiot, open your eyes."

I whimpered and shook my head. "N-No..."

Chuuya sucked his teeth. "Just open your eyes! You'll regret it if you don't."

Biting my lip, I wanted a moment before I lifted my head up and opened my eyes, a small gasp leaving my mouth as I looked around me.

We were still floating in the air, biking moving through the sky. The City of Yokohama was lit up beautifully underneath us. I looked over, seeing the ocean at a distance, the ferris wheel lit up and spinning slowly. My mouth had fallen open, eyes wide in wonder. Chuuya was looking back at me, a triumphant grin on his face.

We made it to my apartment and Chuuya stood over me, an amused smile on his face as he watched me melt on the ground after I got off his bike.

"That was intense..." I mumbled, still feeling the effects of flying through the fucking sky. "I shouldn't even be surprised that you're gifted, with the power that you have already in the Port Mafia."

"Yeah, it was pretty great, huh," Chuuya said smugly, gloved hands stuffed in his coat pockets. I laughed softly, slowly standing up with my shaky legs. He took one look at my frazzled state and he grew even more smug. "That's a cute look on you, though if I really had my way with you, you wouldn't even be able to stand."

My face turned hot, sputtering as I tried to respond, but I had nothing to even say. Because the thought of actually inviting Chuuya inside and--

"Fuck..." I breathed out softly, looking at the man standing before me. His eyes didn't leave mine, the heat in them making a shiver go down my spine. "Do you... want to come inside?"

Chuuya fixed his hat on top of his head. "Lead the way, dollface."

"So... your ability lets you control gravity?" I asked once we made it inside the elevator of my apartment building. We were going fifteen stories up, after Chuuya parked his bike safely, of course.

"To put it simply, yes," Chuuya answered, stepping closer to me. I gasped softly when he grabbed my chin, the leather of his glove pressing against my skin. "But we're not here to talk about that." He pressed himself against me fully, leaning his face in until his lips hovered just above mine. I shivered, looking at him with hooded eyes. "This will be a one time thing, dollface."

I nodded, appreciating his honesty. "Of course," I replied just as the elevator stopped on my floor, doors sliding open. I grinned at him. "So let's make it count."

He liked the sound of that, grabbing my wrist and leading me out the elevator. I rushed to my apartment, grabbing my keys and hurriedly unlocking the door before opening it.

The door slammed shut as Chuuya immediately pressed me against it, his lips on mine in a fervorous kiss. I knocked his hat off his head as I ran my fingers through Chuuya's hair, moaning when his hands started to roam all over my body.

"Fuck..." I moaned softly when Chuuya started to kiss down my neck, squealing when he squeezed on my ass.

"Damn... you won't be able to fucking sit right, either," he growled against my neck as he massaged my ass and thighs. "Let's go."

Groaning when he moved himself away from me, I rushed to lead Chuuya to my bedroom, our clothes coming off in the process and making a trail on the floor.

It didn't take us too long to start really going at it, our lust fueling us to incredible heights. Chuuya held my hips tightly with his leather clad hands, thrusting his hard cock in and out of my soaking pussy.

He was fucking me hard, my body just sprawled on the bed as I moaned and grunted from the pleasure this man was giving me. "Fuck, fuck, Chuuya!" I whined, making the man grin widely as he kept his pace. Sweat covered both of our bodies, moans and deep growls mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

"That's right, dollface, ride me," Chuuya smirked up at me, now on his back as I bounced up and down on his cock. His hands were right on my hips, his eyes going back and forth between watching my bouncing breasts and watching his cock disappear inside my heat. "Fuck, you're so fucking sexy," he growled, thrusting up particularly hard and making me toss my head back, screaming when I finally fucking cum.

"Oh my God!" I gasped sharply, still squeezing around him as I began to slow down. "Oh fuck... it's so good," I moaned, reaching out and hooking my finger into Chuuya's black choker. I pulled and he pushed himself up, lips meeting mine in a messy kiss.

I moaned against his mouth, still slowly riding him as his hands ran up and down my sides, the leather cool against my skin. Then, Chuuya placed his hands on my hips, and with a mischievous little smirk, he licked his lips. Immediately, my body started to feel a little bit lighter, and Chuuya started to effortlessly bounce me up and down on his cock, 100% controlling my body with his ability.

"Chuuya..." I moaned his name, head lolling back. He continued to maneuver my body, little grunts and moans leaving his own mouth as he worked to reach his own pleasure, and mine.

I came again, tears falling down my face from the intense pleasure, and that was enough for Chuuya to pull me off of him completely, putting me on my knees before him on the bed. His hand grabbed the back of my neck and he pushed my head down, stuffing his cock in my mouth.

"Take it," he growled, his hands in my hair and using it to push my head up and down as he fucked my mouth. I moaned around him, a new wave of pleasure washing over me as I let the mafioso use me as he wanted. Soon enough, he exploded into my mouth, and I made sure I swallowed all of him.

"Fuck, that's hot..." Chuuya breathed out when I opened my mouth to show him that I did so. "You're such a good girl, dollface."

That made me flustered and I looked away shyly, earning a chuckle from him. I looked over when I felt him get up from the bed, thinking that he would leave. Instead, he just gave me a look. "Where is your shower?"

We showered together, which took longer than needed because Chuuya couldn't keep his hands to himself. I was surprised when he climbed into bed with me afterwards, allowing me to cuddle against him as we slowly fell asleep.

I wasn't surprised though, when I woke up the next morning, sore and alone. I didn't get too upset about it, though. Chuuya laid it out clear and I accepted it and moved on.

I sat on my dining room table, looking through the newspaper as I sipped on my morning coffee. I was looking for a new job and figured looking at the local ads wouldn't hurt.

"Hm... let's see..." I whispered, reaching over and grabbing my knife. I ran the tip of it down the paper, stopping when one particular ad stuck out. "Hm... the Armed Detective Agency, huh? Interesting..." I set my knife down, staring at the ad as I took another careful sip of coffee.

-End

#bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya smut #bsd smut #dazai x reader #dazai smut #yeah lmao #I got a charlie horse trying to post this but I survive!!#im going to bed after posting this cause im scared please dont yell at me #I tried my best

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stellocchia · 3 years

Text

Since I really enjoyed yesterday's stream I decided to do one of my overly long analysis on it

So, here's my analysis of (DSMP LORE) Healthy Competition

Dialogues will be color-coded as usual, so here's what I used: Phil, Wilbur, Ranboo

As always I am incapable of brevity, so everything's under the cut

The stream starts with a conversation between Phil and Wilbur in which Wilbur admits that he hasn't been to visit Phil in a while, which makes Phil's later threat about throwing him out feel that much more ridiculous since Wilbur clearly doesn't really live with him either way...

"Alright, it's got one for Phil, one for Ranboo, and one for Techno. Is that all that live here? Just you three?" "Yep, just us three, just chilling"

The only reason why I'm singling this out is that it was right after the mention of Techno's birthday and Wilbur was pointing at the seats occupied by the 4 members of the Syndicate so it feels slightly weird that Niki wasn't mentioned at all. But also it's technically not a lie, she doesn't live there and she only comes around for the Syndicate meetings.

Another thing to add is that Wilbur did notice the chest Ranboo left for him and consciously decided to ignore it.

"I must admit I've come to you with a bit of a- a bit of a proposition. You're into propositions Phil? Are you a bit of a 'propositions' kinda guy?" "Oh, depends, depends. You- you've had some pretty... let- let's just say, uh- not- not a great track record on propositions that you've had in the past" "Alright... I mean, I'm trying to move past that"

I wonder what exactly Phil is referring to here. Because, like, Wilbur did bad things, don't get me wrong, but what's his track record with "propositions" in particular? Because he isn't talking about "Tommy, let's be the bad guys" here since he doesn't know about that. Is he talking about Wilbur founding L'Manburg? But then again, I don't think Wilbur interpreted it that way. I think that, from Wilbur's reaction, he clearly interpreted it as a jab at him exploding L'Manburg (which is the one thing he's trying to move past) which would be extremely hypocritical from Phil since he did the exact same thing but worse.

Also, I really do think that Wilbur is trying to move forward. He's lonely and he has the lowest possible opinion of himself so it doesn't feel weird that he'd want to move on. He isn't putting the work in it right now and he hasn't really changed, but he does seem to want to (though I think he may not know how).

"He [Quackity] didn't seem afraid of me, which is cool. Not many people- I mean you don't seem afraid of me. You aren't afraid of me, are you Phil?" (little look into Wilbur's mind and his fear of isolation once again. And this is fear of isolation, he's worried that other people are afraid of him and therefore are only waiting for him to step out of line so that all their fears would be confirmed)

"'Cause I'm not afraid of you [Phil]" (bold words for someone who spent who knows how long lying to his dad because of a crippling fear of disappointment...)

"Technoblade spent his entire time taking down the establishments, what he left is, as predicted, a power vacuum for a new establishment to come in" (in case it wasn't obvious, Wilbur is not the biggest fan of anarchy. And he actually got this one criticism spot on, indeed all taking down L'Manburg did was getting 4 new governmental-like structures to sprout in its place)

"Phil, I want to make a burger van" *Phil sighs and walks away* (I'm more sure now that Phil really meant "creating L'Manburg" as Wilbur's bad track record with propositions)

Wilbur repeating 4 times that he has no ulterior motive with the burger van managed to make me think the exact opposite. That said that ulterior motive may just be to create a safe little home for himself and Tommy for all we know honestly. Also, the whole thing with Phil trying to convince his grown-ass kid to go play with the neighbor kid and Wilbur throwing a tantrum in response was hilarious...

"If he's [Ranboo] shit you gotta come help me okay? If he's shit you've gotta come be burger boy with me, okay?" (he still is mistrustful to an extreme and pretty childish admittedly)

"Why is he [Phil] treating me like a kid?! Why is he treating me like a little baby?" (remembering how Wilbur treated Fundy I think it may be a family problem)

Another interesting thing to point out is that Wilbur was openly scared of the spider attacking him here, and fights it off, but he doesn't move away from the explosion later on and he didn't move away from the exploding creepers last stream. Other people already made this connection, but I do think it may be a sort of way to punish himself. Specifically, it's brought up later on that he thinks he got off easy for what he did, so he's using what he hurt others with (explosions) to hurt himself now as a sort of punishment for that. Which is another indication of just how much his stay in Limbo didn't help with his mental health.

"Am I being- is this [Ranboo having both cows and wheat] a setup?" (the paranoia never left)

"Ranboo I'm gonna go out on a limb here: do- do you wanna be friends?" "Su-sure yeah, I don't see why not" (I think that at this point it was still just Wilbur following along with what his dad told him to do and trying to find out more about Ranboo. That does seem to change later down the line)

"And then we decided that it [the 'cookie' outpost] was too much trouble so we kinda just left it" (So we have confirmation that the cookie outpost was abandoned)

"We're not gonna annoy Quackity" "That's good" "We can't annoy- we can't annoy him because we're simply put- we're simply put gonna be making...- I got the real estate! He's giving me the area and we're gonna be making a competing business"

Wilbur says this as if he wasn't perfectly aware that this would annoy the sh*t out of Quackity. As if the point of it wasn't exactly to annoy Quackity. Or well, annoying him isn't the end goal, it's just the means to an end. We don't know the actual end goal (though I think Wilbur still wants to either be let into Las Nevadas or actually instate a rivalry between them as he said, one of the two).

"We [he and Quackity] were a part of the same cabinet during New L'Manburg or whatever" "Cabinet?" "Yeah a cabinet is like-" "Was this- was this with Tubbo?" "Yeah yeah" (...) "So you were part of the old L'Manburg? I didn't know that actually, I thought you were a bit of an independent"

Once again: Wilbur is missing A LOT of knowledge. He wasn't aware that New L'Manburg had a cabinet and he wasn't aware that Ranboo was ever part of the country either. He has a lot of misconceptions about what happened during the time he was dead so it really shouldn't be a surprise to anyone that his views on a lot of things are as warped as they are. Wilbur is getting to his conclusions with an incomplete and sometimes wrong set of data.

"Do you dislike anyone Ranboo?" "Not too much I don't think. I mean there are other people I don't, like, agree with what they've done of course, but I think that everyone is just a product of what they've gone through and everything so if you understand that then you understand the person!"

There is nothing inherently wrong with Ranboo's reasoning here. It's true that most people are a result of their environment and, once you understand what they've been through you can understand them better as a person. It's also fine that he personally doesn't want to hold grudges. But that way of thinking isn't applicable to those who have been hurt by others, sure they can reach an understanding, but an understanding of a person doesn't justify shit and doesn't change shit unless that person works towards repairing old broken relationships. It just all sounds like a nice way of thinking about things in theory, but in practice, it just takes away responsibility from those who have wronged others to fix things and moves it to those who have been wronged. (Ranboo isn't advocating for everyone to think that way though, but I know the fandom will).

Either way, they arrive in Las Nevadas and Wilbur talks about how their place doesn't benefit the consumer and puts down 3 signs.

"I've been trying to think of a name for it [his and Tommy's area], I'm thinking about 'Paradise'"

There are two possible reasons for the name that I can think of:

1) It's in reference to Las Nevadas itself and how Las Nevadas is based on Las Vegas, the famous city of sin

2) It could be a reference to Tommy insistently calling Las Nevadas Paradise in the last stream and Wilbur trying to convince him that their place is the true Paradise

Wilbur does decide to make the Burger Van right at the border which really feels like a very obvious provocation. The other thing is that he makes it clear that he wants the van to be red and white which could be a random choice, but really feels like a reference to Tommy (since they are famously his colors) or an imitation of their opposition. Or both considering how much Tommy liked the restaurant of the opposition and the fact that Wilbur is still trying to convince him to stay.

"I'm not very fond of blue" (at this point it's obvious that Wilbur has quite a bit of pent-up animosity against Ghostbur. I wonder if it is because it still feels like people liked the ghost more than him...)

"Like, the Cookie Shop, I don't even know if it was a cookie shop, to begin with, because it was a little... fortified if I'm entirely honest, I realize that now" "Really?" "Yeah did you not see- oh wait- that giant stone structure?" (Ranboo really did fail to realize that the cookie shop was actually a military outpost, huh?)

"See, I like Tubbo. He's strong-headed, he doesn't let people push him around, you know?" (this is both an interesting change in what he thinks of Tubbo if he actually thinks that and further confirmation that Wilbur isn't a fan of people he considers to be 'followers')

"Why do you claim that you're so 'peaceful' and 'neutral' and yet somehow appear in almost every conflict this server's had since I died?" (since I saw people claiming this is manipulation already, just know that it isn't. He's just confused because, admittedly, Ranboo is a confusing guy and Wilbur doesn't really know him at all)

"Ranboo, why did you come to help me?" (...) "And then also I just think, you know... you can, you know- I think- I think you're an alright person, you know? So I wanna- I did kinda wanna get off on a better foot with you then what happened-" "Why?" "Just because I don't really like having the thought that people don't really like me" "Nonononono not the bit about the right foot, the 'why don't you think I'm a bad person'" "Well I mean, I think that you did bad things, but like, I think that you also went through things that made you that way and then I also think that you've changed now (...) but I think that now you've- apparently you've been away long enough that I think that if anyone goes away for that long eventually they'll have a thought about their morality and everything and maybe become a better person because of it"

I know this quote was absurdly long, but it is one of the most interesting conversations of the whole stream and it is really important and it tells us quite a bit as well. For one thing Wilbur was left quite emotional from someone simply admitting that he's an "alright person" and that they think he's capable of changing and this does bring him to open up to Ranboo right after. What Ranboo says to be exact is that anyone would have changed after going through what Wilbur went through and that change could be positive and while I completely disagree with it, it's clearly something that Wilbur needed to hear.

Now as to why I disagree with the notion that 13 years of semi-complete isolation could change anyone for the better should be rather obvious. But if it isn't, well, that's torture to put it simply. Psychological torture. Just like abuse it's one of those things that only cause trauma and a worsening mental health state and we see this with Wilbur because he didn't change, he only became more self-deprecating. Hurting someone doesn't make them become a better person all of a sudden, that's really not how it works. Hurting someone makes them become more traumatized.

"I think I scare people" ( as I said, immediately opening up about his insecurities)

"I think that a lot of people share your idea, but they share your idea in trying to- trying to keep me from hurting them" (for a bit here Wilbur talks about how he feels like everyone else is just waiting for him to step a foot out of line, which does really show that he's still interpreting all his interactions with people through the lens of his paranoia and self-deprecation, because no one is really interacting with him with that objective in mind)

"Dream's had his comeuppance and I've not" (this seems to be the crux of Wilbur's insecurity. This idea that he got off scot-free for his crimes, the idea that the only difference between him and Dream is the punishment that's been bestowed upon them which, of course, is wrong, but he doesn't know this, because he doesn't actually know why Dream's in prison)

"I've been investing into the wrong areas Ranboo, I've been investing into the wrong people" (This is either a reference to Tommy, to Phil, to Quackity, or to all of them)

"We're kindred man, we get each other" (the reason why he thinks that is because he seems to think that Ranboo has a similar type of paranoia to what Wilbur experience himself and he's not entirely wrong. Ranboo is deathly afraid of conflict and of being disliked so much so that he never stands up for anything in fear of angering others)

Little definition of "neuroticism" for you all since Wilbur kept mentioning it: neuroticism, one of the Big 5 personality traits, is typically defined as a tendency toward anxiety, depression, self-doubt, and other negative feelings.

I'd say it's quite fitting for both characters...

"I feel like life dealt us the same cards and the difference is that you built your trust by showing people your cards whilst I- I keep them close to my chest and I feel like that may be the big difference" (I felt like this was interesting. Especially knowing how much Ranboo actually doesn't share and how much he actually also keeps close to his chest)

They talk about tubbo in general for a bit and about what's been going on the server in general. Ranboo also that he's part of both Snowchester and the arctic commune (mostly the latter though).

"This has been chill, this has been good, I'm excited to show Tommy. What's your opinion on Tommy?" "Oh, he's- he's great. Tommy's awesome" "I agree I agree" "Definitely gone through a lot but I think that it's made him a good person" "Well you seem to think that everyone going through something at least gives them some merit you said" "I mean, yeah. I mean if- if no one- the only really bad people are the ones who are just evil because- just because and they don't have any reason why"

Included the whole thing here because if I stopped at Ranboo saying that Tommy going through trauma is what made him a good person it would have sounded really bad. As things are I think that that was just poor wording on his part and that this mostly goes back to the mentality he expressed before about how people sometimes do bad things because of the environment they're in pushing them and this idea he seems to have that actual hardships (like 13 years in Limbo or whatever he knows about what Tommy has been through) can encourage people to be better which is... sort of naive honestly. Again, trauma isn't a catalyst for the betterment of a person, and any improvement Tommy has made came from his self-reflection, not what he's been through.

After they're done with the van Wilbur brings Ranboo to their competing establishment and asks him to smash the windows, which Ranboo does with no hesitation whatsoever. After that Wilbur proceeds to place down one single block of TNT in a corner and Ranboo starts being a little more hesitant.

"You trust me right?" (I feel like that was a trick question considering how their common paranoia is the thing that Wilbur praised in Ranboo before)

Wilbur hands Ranboo the flint and steel to detonate the piece of TNT which Ranboo does, albeit with some hesitation.

"You passed the test, good job man, you go back to the van (...) Ranboo- Ranboo... I'm proud of you man. You've taken a side, you've proven that you can choose a side"

Quite a few people have already pointed out how similar this scene was to the time Wilbur tested Tommy in season 1 to decide if he was fit to be his right-hand man. In both situations, Wilbur gave someone a chance to cause some destruction against someone on the opposite side. Tommy passed the test by refusing to do so and showing that he was willing to uphold his morals and what he believed in. Ranboo passed the test by doing the exact opposite, by showing that, as much as he talks about how he chooses people and not sides, he's not willing to prove that even when all he would need to do to do so is doing nothing.

And it's an interesting scene to analyze as a parallel to that, but it's also interesting to note that Wilbur knows about Ranboo and Tommy griefing George together. He knows that Tommy was the only one to face any consequences for it (not that exile was actually the consequence for the griefing, but this is from Wilbur's point of view). Now putting this in the context of Wilbur seeing himself in Ranboo and thinking that he himself got off scot-free explains this next part perfectly in my opinion.

It explains why he made sure to leave this sign:

To me at least. This is only a theory honestly, we don't have an actual full explanation. But I do think that Wilbur may feel like the both of them never got the comeuppance they deserved, which is why he did something that's sure to get a reaction from one of the most powerful people on the server. Though considering that he also left 2 diamonds as retribution + a chest with all the materials he picked up it could have also been Wilbur's idea of a bonding moment and he could actually really be proud of Ranboo.

#long post #dream smp #wilbur soot #philza #ranboo #c!wilbur #c!ranboo #dream smp analysis #character analysis #stream analysis #tw self-harm #tw self-deprecation #tw torture mention #tw abuse mention #I'm sure there are plenty of things I missed #but this was all for now

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