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love-of-fandoms · 2 days ago

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Little Bird (Rob Lucci x Reader)

Inspired by @sunandflame , Queen you are keeping the Lucci tag alive and I thank you mightily for your service.

A/N: I've had this idea forever about a character in One Piece with big wings who fell from Skypeia as a child and because One Piece with training and discipline were able to get to the point where they could actually use their wings. Anyway this is that OC basically inserted as a reader so I can write some Lucci fanfic. He has me by the horns and I did in fact speedwrite this in two hours.

Pairing: Rob Lucci x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Wordcount: 6253 words

Warnings: AFAB reader, they/them pronouns, Rob Lucci is his own warning, smut, oral, reader has long hair, can be read as any race, humiliation, some predator/prey

You could tell the new Galley-La foreman didn’t trust anybody as far as his pigeon could throw them(he’d trust people a lot more if it was as far as he could throw them, you knew because you’d seen him toss an unruly pirate out to see all the way from Dock One). Beautiful, but painfully stoic, he kept to himself, speaking through his pigeon and not seeming to give anyone the time of day besides Paulie and Kaku, the other new addition.

His pigeon was a riot though. Whenever he would say something “through Hattori”, the bird would immediately follow up with some snarky commentary:

“Paulie, you shouldn’t tarnish Icebarg’s name with your foolish gambling~coo coo!” He’d say in that silly high pitched voice he used for Hattori.

“Yeah, cuz you sure care about Icebarg’s name, you psychopath,”

Or:

“Get home safely, Tilestone! You had a bit much to drink!”

“Please let him fall in the canal, he’s so annoying,”

Your Talk-Talk fruit, which you had consumed shortly after falling from your homeland of Skypeia as a child, allowed you to speak to anything with a soul. It came in very handy as a shipwright at Galley-La, allowing you to ask ships what they needed instead of doing a full inspection. It also allowed you to hear every confusing thing Hattori said to complement Lucci’s speech.

You had commented on Hattori’s speech one day at the bar with the other foreman, much to Lucci’s surprise.

“You know, Lucci, your bird is always calling you a psychopath,” you failed to notice the way Lucci’s first clenched around his glass of brandy, causing small cracks in it. “But to me it seems like he’s the real psychopath. I think he might kill Tilestone someday soon,” Lucci narrowed his eyes slightly, but you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He seemed to be searching for something in your eyes, but you had no idea what. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“I didn’t realize your devil fruit allowed you to talk to animals as well as ships~coo coo!” He said after a moment. You thought him breaking the silence would dissipate the tense feeling you had in your shoulders and wings, as if you should flee, but instead you felt a crushing dread in the pit of your stomach. Lucci was never unserious, but the severity of his gaze left you incredibly nervous.

“Um… yeah, the Talk-Talk fruit lets me talk to anything with a soul,” you nodded, taking a sip of the cheap ale Paulie got you to try and shake the nervous feeling you had. “Which is why it’s so hard to talk to you sometimes, eh?” you tried cracking a joke to clear the mood, but when did Lucci ever have a sense of humor?

“HAHAHAHA! DON’T TAKE THAT TO HEART, LUCCI! THEY’VE USED THAT LINE ON ALL OF US!” Tilestone was there to-well breaking the tension wouldn’t exactly be the word, would it? The sheer volume of his voice left both you and Lucci puffed up like cats. You pouted.

“You know, you’re not supposed to just immediately ruin my delivery like that, it’s not very sporting of you,” you muttered, grabbing another sip of your ale.

“Please Lucci for the love of god, if you kill any of them let it be this one,” Hattori piped up, to which you let out a very loud guffaw.

“Hattori, you’re such a fucked up little bird,” you chided, standing from your chair and giving the bird a little two finger salute. “Have a good night, gentlemen, I’m off for a midnight flight,” The guys wished you goodnight with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Lucci nodded his head, eyes still very intently studying you, making you all the more eager to get the hell out of dodge.

You exited Blueno’s with your wings still twitching, unable to shake the feeling Lucci’s intense stare had given you. You felt the need to run-the need to fly far far away into the sky where he couldn’t reach you. You felt the need to check every dark crevice and cranny in the night to make sure no predator was stalking somewhere it shouldn’t.

Rob Lucci made you feel like prey sometimes, and it never made a lick of sense.

You shot up into the sky, still intent on taking your nightly flight. Since you had fallen as a child, you hadn’t stopped trying to return to your homeland in the clouds. You would flap and flap your wings, and by the time you wound up on Water 7 what previously had been ornamental wings the size of your forearms on your back were huge, powerful wings that could carry you through the air. Not 10,000 meters into the air, but high enough. You made it a point to train every night, hoping one day to return. You remembered a family, vaguely, an annoying, hotheaded twin brother you went through hell for, a statue of a proud warrior in the middle of your town, the feeling of clouds beneath your feet as opposed to solid ground.

You propelled yourself through the clouds above Water 7, diving and looping, surveying the island below. You were at this for about a half hour when something caught your eye: a silhouette seemingly running through the air. Was it Kaku? You knew that he had that odd skill. You dove down, wanting to say hello if it was, and check it out if it wasn’t. You held a palm out, waving and preparing to shout a ‘hello’ down to the figure when-

“Shave!” your momentum was very suddenly disturbed by a body tackling yours, sending you veering to the left. A strong(too strong) hand around your forearm stopped you from falling completely out of the sky, and suddenly you were face to face with-rather, you were dangling below-the one and only Rob Lucci.

You were struck-momentarily-by how devastatingly beautiful he was. Maybe it was because there was rarely any emotion on his face, but there was something intoxicating about bearing witness to the snarl that took his lip, the slightly askew tophat from tackling you. His grey eyes glinted with something you still couldn’t figure out, and damn if it wasn’t breathtaking.

But now was not the time to ogle! Your arm was sore and only hurting more every passing second his grip remained around it.

“What the hell, Lucci?!” you demanded, trying to yank your forearm free, but it felt like it was stuck in an iron clamp. “I thought you were Kaku! I’m sorry for startling you-fuck!” you cursed in pain at his grip, and he finally relented, letting your arm go and dropping to the roof of a nearby building, indicating for you to join him.

“Apologies for hurting you~coo coo! I was startled to see someone else in the sky!” He said. You scowled at him, the fear from earlier replaced with rage from being ragdolled midflight.

“I’m the one with wings, I think that should be my line!” you retorted, rubbing at the spot where he grabbed you. “Didn’t know you could run on air, too,” Lucci shrugged, Hattori mimicking the motion.

“We grew up on the same island, so we learned how to do it together~coo coo!” he said in explanation.

“Is that the story? Does Kaku know this?” sometimes the things Hattori said were downright bizarre. It made you wonder about Lucci-what was he hiding that had his bird calling him out in ways you couldn’t comprehend all the time? You must have made a face, because suddenly Lucci was closer. You didn’t see him take a step, but he was nose to nose with you in an instant.

“What did he say?” a deep voice demanded, and you felt his breath puff against your lips as he spoke. Your eyes widened, both at hearing his real voice for the first time, and at the coldness of the tone. He sounded like he’d kill you if he didn’t like the answer, and all of a sudden that feeling was back.

Why do I feel like this? There’s no reason for me not to trust Lucci-besides the weird shit his bird says, but really-he’s done nothing but help us at Galley-La. He’s helped me save Paulie’s dumbass a few times now, and besides being crazy strong he’s just a normal shipwright, not some psycho murderer. Calm down!

“Um… he asked if Kaku knows about that?” you winced. “I’m sorry, what he says doesn’t always make sense,” Lucci huffed, leaning back slightly to give you an inch-and just an inch-of space.

“Damn bird, doesn’t know the trouble he stirs,” he muttered, fists clenching and unclenching as he continued to stare at you intently, something going on behind his eyes that you were not privy to: a decision, perhaps?

“He’s definitely an odd one,” you chimed in, giggling a bit. “A lot of murderous intent in such a little body. I mean it, he really hates Tilestone,” Lucci seemed to stand down at this, whatever calculation that was going on in his brain decided. The corner of his lip quirked up in what couldn’t scientifically be considered a smile.

“I believe you shoved him into the canal just the other week for being too loud,” he said, keeping his voice muted, as if speaking any louder would break the spell and he’d have to return to his pigeon voice. Why he wasn’t using it right now, you couldn’t fathom.

“Well, yeah, but he got out just fine,” you muttered, scratching behind your ear and averting your gaze. Okay, maybe you and Hattori did agree about how annoying Tilestone was. Lucci just scoffed.

“That just means you didn’t do a good enough job,” your eyes shot back up to his, trying to gauge his expression. Did Rob Lucci just make a joke? To you?

Joke or not, the laughter bubbled up out of your throat. “You should talk more Lucci, I think you might be just as murderous and amusing as your pigeon,” He seemed taken aback by that, eyes wide as he watched you laugh.

“You have no idea,” was all Hattori had to contribute.

After that, you went out of your way to bother Rob Lucci-or Hattori-at work. Sometimes, the man wouldn’t give you the time of day, but that was fine, because as previously stated: his pigeon was a riot.

“Did you notice how the last pirate that came through here had a talking parrot?” Hattori asked as his owner pounded away with his hammer. You were weaving the rope for the ladders along the masts, so you sat beside Lucci as he worked and chatted with Hattori. Getting to admire Lucci’s biceps as he swung away was a small bonus that you really didn’t think about at all when deciding where to set up with your work-okay you were really there to admire Lucci, but Hattori was great company as well!

“Oh yeah, it was some big macaw, right?” Lucci’s eyes darted to you, as they often did when you spoke to his pigeon. It was a look you knew well with your devil fruit: the look of someone who would give anything to hear both sides of the conversation.

“Well I fucking killed it!” the bird crowed, puffing his chest out in pride. You paused in your work with the rope, placing it down for a moment to give Hattori a horrified look.

“Are you serious?” you demanded, and Lucci’s eyes bore into you with a newfound intensity. You turned to him for a moment with the look of a disappointed parent. “He’s saying he killed that last pirate’s parrot,” you told him, and Lucci’s face twisted in a brief grimace of acknowledgement. “You knew?!” he nodded. “Maybe you guys are psychopaths,” you muttered, getting back to your rope work.

The winged Galley-La foreman was either dumb as rocks, or a little bit of a sociopath themselves at this point. When Lucci first realized that not only did their devil fruit allow them to understand Hattori, but his pigeon had been saying psychotic, unhinged shit, the entire time.

Luckily, whether it was the slight crush on him (that of course he picked up on), or they just genuinely didn’t care to connect the dots, or on the very unlikely end were too dumb to connect them, they seemed not to be able to put together the painfully obvious hints that Hattori was dropping that Lucci was not who he said he was. In fact, they seemed to spend more time with him because of his sadistic bird.

Usually, Lucci would be upset about someone attaching themselves to him while undercover, but he found he didn’t mind their presence. They could be a little silly, but they seemed to understand the value of silence, a virtue he valued greatly. There was also that delicious look they would get sometimes: the fear of being in the presence of a stronger, faster, predator mixed with the confusion of not being able to recognize that the predator was right in front of them. The way their wings would twitch sometimes as if they wanted to fly away from him, but simultaneously their eyes would bore into him greedily as if he were some tragic artist’s most beautiful piece.

It made him… feel things. Not something so quaint as affection, but an attraction. A need to take. A need to show them they were right to be afraid, that he was fearsome, but that he could be fearsome for them, that they need not fear the beast but let it consume them.

It was a dangerous line of thought, one he often nipped in the bud if he found his mind straying down that path, and Rob Lucci was nothing if not an efficient, emotionless killing machine.

But he still found himself allowing them to impose on him. To work near him during their days at Dock One. To take the seat next to him at Blueno’s bar(when did they start regularly tagging along with him and Paulie?). To ask for his company on a flight after Paulie ditched them one drink in one fateful Friday night.

“Well I’m glad he struck out,” you sighed, standing from your chair with a stretch as the two of you watched Paulie practically strut out of the bar with a pretty brunette tourist. You and Lucci approached the bar to pay your respective tabs, which each of you thought would be quite a bit higher that night. You bit your lip, wondering if you should even try to ask Lucci what you wanted. If a prudish idiot like Paulie could get lucky tonight, maybe you could get lucky asking for a bit more of your too-handsome coworker’s time?

“You’re thinking really hard about something, there~coo coo!” Lucci piped up, startling you out of your reverie. You blushed, shifting from foot to foot nervously as you decided to just bite the bullet.

“Uh… I was just wondering, no worries if not, but I was going for a flight after this, and I thought it might be fun, maybe, if we went… together?” you stumbled your way through the invitation, gaze planted firmly on the floor and not seeing the way one half of Lucci’s mouth curled up in a smirk. “That sounds silly, I’m sorry, we don’t have to,” you started to speak again, barely even giving him time to answer and waving your hands in dismissal, but a large calloused hand gripped your wrist, prompting you to look at the man it was attached to.

“Could be fun~coo coo!” he responded, and you definitely weren’t hallucinating the slight upturn you saw to his lips! You grinned at him, strolling out of the bar with him eagerly, wings already twitching and ready to unfurl.

“Really? That’s great!” you gushed, much more excited than you should be for something that was essentially an overly complicated run together.

Once you were outside, you unfurled your wings and immediately took to the sky, laughing gleefully when Lucci shot himself up to be right next to you, careful not to get in the way of your downstrokes but still close enough to communicate with. Hattori fluttered off, seemingly not as interested in your midnight flight.

“How high have you gone?” you asked, and Lucci shot you a look as if you were the strangest creature he’d ever laid eyes upon.

“Never kept track, you?” you were surprised to hear his real voice again, after so many weeks since that first time you caught him in the sky. Your wings faltered for a moment, and you felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment at the brief blunder.

“Uh… 6,200 meters is my record!” his eyes widened, and you felt a rush of pride at his expression. “I have an altitude measure, if you want to find out how far you can go,” you offered. Gods, what a weird date. You thought to yourself, but quickly rid yourself of the thought. Not a date, just hanging out with a coworker. Lucci grinned at you.

“Is that a challenge?” he asked, and you shrugged.

“I mean, I was born 10,000 meters in the sky, so my lungs can breath the air up there better, but I have no idea how a normal human would handle going that far-” you would have continued, but Lucci was already climbing, and climbing fast. It took all you had to keep up with him. “You could’ve let me finish, jerk!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, all I heard was a challenge,” he quipped, still climbing steadily, and you huffed, pulling out your altitude reader and following him as he climbed, occasionally calling out to him how high you had gone.

At about 5,000 meters, he started to slow, and you piped up. “Make sure you have the energy for the descent! Free falling is fun, but you need to be able to catch yourself if that’s the plan!” you saw the beads of sweat, had heard his heavy breathing for a minute, and were honestly getting a little worried about having to catch him on the way down. He shook his head, determined. “Alright, don’t make me have to save you!” But he continued to climb, until eventually.

“Oh my god, 6,400! I haven’t even made it this far!” you were panting heavily and your wings were sore as hell, but part of you was elated to be pushed this far. Lucci was also looking winded, but the out of control grin on his face when you told him he beat your previous record took what was left of your breath away. His elated gaze met yours, and for a moment you swore you saw a fang in his grin, before he was beginning his descent. You followed after him, over the moon at having beat your record and seen Rob Lucci’s smile.

“Hey Lucci!” you called to him as you descended. “How do you feel about one more challenge?” you asked, and he got that beautiful glint in his eyes again, the one that made you feel simultaneously like you were in danger and that you were the most special person in Water 7.

“What do you have in mind?” he asked, and you grinned at him.

“Race you to Dock One!” you called, and before he could really have time to process it, you tucked your wings close to your body and dove. You heard the echoes of a deep laughter get lost in the wind, and while part of you lamented not getting to hear his laugh, another part of you delighted at the way the evening was going. Tonight you had unlocked a-dare you say it-playful side of Rob Lucci. It felt like nothing was impossible.

You suddenly felt a presence right next to you, and a voice sounded from directly above you.

“Are you sure you want to play a game of chase with me, little bird?” His deep voice sent shivers down your spine, and you squealed gleefully, giving your wings a pump to change your direction before settling them even closer to your body, willing yourself to gain even more speed. This time you heard his laughter, because it was right behind you.

The ground was fast approaching, so you unfurled your wings, and started to weave through the buildings atop Water 7, making your way to Dock One. You were blindsided when you felt a hand grab and yank your foot slightly, veering you off course and slowing you down. Lucci’s laughter followed tauntingly, and you felt a gust of wind as he zipped by you. You groaned, pumping your wings with renewed vigor to try and catch up, but the Dock was already in sight and you knew it was already lost.

You landed in front of the huge Dock One doors, deserted because of the time of night. Lucci was already leaning against them, arms crossed with a smirk on his face.

“So what do I win?” he asked, pushing off the door to invade your space, standing nose to nose with you in a scene that gave you deja-vu. Your eyes widened as he took another step, pressing his chest to yours, and there was that feeling again, the feeling that you really were just a little bird and that this big bad predator was going to snatch you up if you didn’t do something.

But what a beautiful predator to be caught by, you decided, refusing to step back and meeting his gaze with whatever bravery you could muster. He seemed pleased with that, smirk widening into an almost-smile.

“Do I get to choose?” he pressed, voice almost a whisper, and you nodded, voice completely lost to you.

And then he was kissing you. His large hands framed your face completely as he all but yanked you into him, forcing you onto your tiptoes just to meet his lips. If you had been foolish enough to expect gentleness in Rob Lucci’s touch, you found there was none, his hands demanding, his grip almost too tight when one hand wound its way into your hair and the other to the small of your back. You were crushed to Rob Lucci, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your arms went around his back, and you found yourself consumed by him. He took complete control of the kiss, using his grip on your hair to angle your face how he wanted it, nipping at your lips and sliding his tongue out to taste your mouth.

His hand in your hair yanked your head back, his lips trailing down your chin and along the side of your neck, biting down hard-almost too hard-when they met the junction of your neck and shoulder. Everything was almost too much with him, the strength of his grip, his kisses, the way he crushed your body to his so completely you barely had room to breathe.

“One more flight?” he asked, pulling away from you ever so slightly, just enough to allow you to answer. You panted, breathless for a moment.

“Yours or mine?” you breathed out, and he smirked a bit.

“We can do without scandalizing Kaku, don’t you think?” he prompted, and you nodded, shakily spreading your wings to get ready for the flight home. Lucci huffed, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him before you could take off. “Just one kiss and you’re already this dazed?” he teased, and you would have argued, said something clever in response, if his next movement hadn’t been to sweep out your legs and start carrying you through the sky to your apartment.

“Lucci!” you shrieked in surprise, and you were blessed with his deep laughter once again.

“I thought you were supposed to woo someone by sweeping them off their feet?” he prodded, and your cheeks burned with heat.

“Careful Lucci, I’ll accuse you of romance next!” you teased back, and his eyes flashed down to you with a light smirk.

“Well we can’t have that,” he muttered before dropping you on your feet in front of your apartment. Before you could even turn and start to unlock the door he had yanked you into another filthy kiss, a hand sneaking down to firmly grab your ass as he did so. You moaned softly into the kiss, digging around in your pockets for your keys as he seemed to suck the very breath out of you. The sensations were too overwhelming: his hair brushing against your cheeks softly as his mouth devoured you anything but softly. His hand not occupied with your butt had found its way back into your hair and was yanking with abandon.

Finally your hand grasped your keys, and you were able to pull them out of your pocket and shove Lucci away long enough to get them in the lock and get you both through the door. Then he was back in control, slamming you against the door with strength you couldn’t forget he had even if you tried and shoving a leg between your thighs to press against your crotch. You were lifted up onto your tiptoes by the motion and he bent down to leave more demanding kisses and bites at your neck, delighting in your shivers and moans as he did.

“I hope you’re not expecting romance,” he murmured darkly against your collarbone, flinging his tophat off and beginning to work on the buttons of your shirt. “I will not be gentle, or loving, or even kind,” he warned as his hands brushed your breasts on the way down, and you clenched your thighs around his in anticipation.

“Good things I’m not looking for any of that,” you responded, voice breathy and a bit higher than you remember it. Lucci smirked at you, looping his hands around your thighs and lifting you from against the door, beginning to carry you further into your apartment. You directed him between kisses and moans, squealing when he flung you onto your bed, quickly following you and pinning you to the mattress with a hand on your neck. His other hand trailed down your chest, ghosting over your breasts and stomach before coming to rest in the waistband of your pants, fingers teasing into your slit to gather the barest trace of your juices before withdrawing. He held the same fingers up to your lips, the command not even having to be spoken for you lips to open lewdly, tongue lolling out to accept his fingers.

He smirked, and you felt like you could kill someone to earn that approving glint in his eyes as he gazed at you. No praise came, but the hand on your neck drifted down to fondle and tweak your breasts, giving you jolts of pleasure as you sucked on two of his fingers.

Unceremoniously he yanked his fingers out of your mouth, wiping the wet of your saliva on your breasts in a way that should have felt humiliating-but instead sent fire through your veins.

“You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” he said it like a statement though it should have been a question, and you found yourself nodding desperately as he went to pull his pants off, revealing a hard cock that was very much proportionate to his seven foot height. He sat on the edge of the bed and raised an eyebrow at you.

“On your knees,” he demanded, and you rushed to comply, sliding off the bed and to your knees in front of him, eager to get his dick in your mouth. Long fingers twined themselves into your hair, getting it out of your way as you leaned into lick at his dick, one hand grabbing the base to keep it steady. You started with long licks along the bottom and sides, ecstatic when Lucci let out a brief moan at the first feeling of your tongue on his length. “There we go, little bird,” never did you think being called that would do it for you, but something about the ever composed, ever stoic Rob Lucci calling you a pet name in such a breathy tone was so insanely hot that you didn’t even question it.

You mouthed around his tip, teasing putting it in your mouth without actually wrapping your lips wholly around it, and were almost startled when an actual growl came out of Lucci’s mouth. His grip in your hair tightened to almost painful, keeping your head still.

“It’s cute, thinking you can get away with teasing me like that,” he muttered, staring down at you with a contemplative look that almost had you worried before his hand in your hair was pushing on the back of your head, forcing you to take him in your mouth. He sighed blissfully once your lips enveloped his tip, pushing further, and you hummed, admiring his profile as his head tipped back the slightest bit in pleasure from your mouth. You breathed deeply through your nose, allowing him to keep pushing you down his length until-

You sputtered lightly, his dick tapping the back of your throat, and Lucci only paused briefly to allow you to collect yourself before he was forcing your head all the way down, your nose meeting his pelvis as you sputtered again. He groaned deeply, the loudest noise you had heard from his all night.

“That’s it, little bird, take it like that,” he groaned, hand keeping you there for a moment before he completely released you, allowing you to yank your head back and take in a few deep breaths. He laughed meanly as you collected yourself, and you should have been humiliated, but the slight flush on his cheeks was addictive, and you were determined to see more. After a few deep breaths, you took his length back into your mouth, sinking quickly down almost to his base on your own. He let out a choked groan of surprise, probably not expecting you to be so eager to please, and you started to work a slow rhythm up and down his dick. “So good,” he groaned, and you hummed at the praise.

He let you suck his cock for a few minutes, hand occasionally yanking at your hair and controlling the pace, all the while letting out occasional groans to let you know you were doing a good job. His tank top came off at some point during it, and you were frothing at the mouth to be face-to-face with his delicious torso, abs sculpted to perfection and hip bones you wanted to feel as you rode him-but you were getting ahead of yourself.

He yanked you off of him and had you get back up on the bed, helping you strip as he got you where he wanted you, your wings spread out behind you on the bed as you laid back amongst the pillows. He shoved your thighs up as high as they could go roughly, barking at you to hold them for him before sliding down your body until his face was right in front of your heat.

He let you squirm for an uncomfortable moment as he just laid and stared at your cunt, seemingly mesmerized, before he was diving in tongue first. It speared into you, his nose crashing into your clit as you let out a surprised moan. Rob Lucci was controlled, precise, and methodical in everything he did, but the man ate pussy like it was a meal that might be taken away from him at any second. He facial hair burned in the most delicious way against you as he relentlessly flicked his tongue into your hole, not even seeming to care about your pleasure from the experience and instead just wanting to taste you. He groaned in pleasure and you could feel your juices starting to pool under you from his relentless treatment.

“Please,” you muttered as the sensation got to be too much. “Please Lucci, please wanna cum, wanna cum so bad,” you whined, and he seemed to redouble his efforts, a hand coming up to shove two fingers into you as his mouth raised to suck on your clit. You let out a little shriek as the penetration finally shoved you over the edge, and Lucci lapped up your release greedily.

“Mine,” he muttered. “All mine, little bird,” you nodded, delirious with pleasure.

“All yours, all yours,” he was already making his way up your body, leaving wet kisses up your sternum and along your breasts until you were face to face. You admired the way your juices clung to his facial hair, the crazed look in his eyes that seemed that of an obsessed madman, the way his long hair framed his face in a way that made the oh-so put together Rob Lucci look disheveled and-dare you say it-absolutely debauched.

“Let me fuck you, little bird, let me ruin you,” he demanded, because Rob Lucci doesn’t beg, and you nodded desperately, feeling his tip knocking into your entrance.

“Yes please, please Lucci fuck me please,” you begged, and he pushed in, both of you gasping as he finally did.

“All that,” he grunted, bullying his dick a little further into you as you let out a high pitched moan. “And you’re still so tight!” one hand went to your clit while the other went to your neck, and you grinned around a moan.

“S cuz you’re so big,” you whined, shifting your hips a bit to get a better angle, squealing as it made him slide further in. He was grinning at you as he continued to bully his way into your pussy in short thrusts, fingers on your clit circling around and around.

“You’re so good for me, little bird,” he groaned, feeling his cock getting closer and closer to being all the way in with every thrust.

You let out a long, loud moan as his hips finally connected with yours, feeling his tip hit somewhere delicious inside you. Lucci seemed to be holding himself back, muscles tensing, and you whined at the lack of movement, legs wrapping around his hips firmly.

“Lucci, fuck me, please!” you whined, and this seemed to snap him out of whatever hesitance he had, because his hips started to snap back and forth, hammering into you with a force that would definitely leave your hips bruised tomorrow.

“Fuck! So perfect, little bird!” he grit out, hands flying to rest under your thighs, pushing your legs up for a better angle. You screamed as he did, his dick going deeper-almost too deep, tip brushing against your cervix with every thrust in a way that made you want to keep him in you forever. He leaned in, mouth coming to lick and bite at your chest, and your eyes rolled back at the force with which he would latch on, as if he was little more than a beast trying not to tear the very skin from your bones.

His dick was still hitting that perfect spot inside you, and you could feel your crest coming, fast and uncontrollable.

“Lucci, I-I’m,” you started to stutter out, but he didn’t let you finish, capturing your mouth in a kiss and bringing one hand back to your throat.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me?” he asked, eyes flashing as he grinned down at you, and you nodded whimpering as he made sure to keep the pace, bullying into that spot that was making you see stars. “Go on little bird, cum on my cock, cum for me,” he urged, and the dam released. Warmth flowed through your body as you peak crashed over you, and you felt Lucci’s hips stutter as you squeezed him.

“Oh fuck you feel so good-” he choked out, pounding away at you even harder and faster than before, making you scream. “So close my little bird, just wanna feel it one more time,” he demanded, snaking the hand on your neck down to roughly squeeze at your breasts, meanly pinching a nipple. You squealed, the sudden intensity bringing another orgasm on so quickly you didn’t know what was happening until you were in it, and you were screaming and writhing on Lucci’s cock as he laughed meanly above you, almost in awe of how well you were taking his dick. As your pussy squeezed in the aftermath of back to back orgasms, he shoved his dick as deep as he could, filling you with his seed and dipping his head down to bite into your flesh once more. You shivered in delight as you felt him fill you.

“Thank you, Lucci,” you moaned, eyes already drooping after the exertion of the night. He chuckled, placing a small peck to your forehead before pulling out, prompting a groan from both of you. You dozed as he shuffled about, retrieving a washcloth and finding your bathroom to wet it with warm water, cleaning you gently(so gentle, more gentle than both of you thought he was capable of), and discarding it before returning to slide under the covers with you. You happily snuggled into his chest as he wrapped an arm around you.

He could afford some pleasure while he was undercover here, he decided. He deserved something nice, if he couldn’t kill whoever he wanted while he was here, after all.

#One Piece #One piece x reader #rob lucci x reader #Rob Lucci #Rob Lucci Smut #One Piece Smut #One Shot

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littlemonstrosityy · 2 days ago

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𝑨𝒍𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕, 𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 ~ Chapter Four (Casey Novak x Reader)

casey novak x female reader

slow burn, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, eventual smut word count: 2k

After a night Casey can't forget, she pulls away, hoping that distance will dull the ache. But space only sharpens it, and when an old ritual brings them back into each other's orbit, the tension becomes impossible to ignore. Read on AO3 This one will hurt, but I promise I'll make it up to you very soon!

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒐𝒖𝒓 - 𝑨𝒍𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝑵𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒍

Casey barely slept. She managed a few hours somewhere between three and five, tossing and turning between the sheets, too aware of the lingering ache between her legs and the fact that your voice was still echoing in her mind.

She told herself it would fade, that she could compartmentalise. She’s good at that, good at letting work distract her like it always did.

But the second she stepped into the office, coffee in hand, she felt her stomach lurch. The sight of you leaning against your desk like you owned the place, easy smile, sleeves rolled up, already laughing with someone across the room. It was already overwhelming to her vulnerable state.

She looked away, almost hiding before you noticed her, but to her luck, you spotted her immediately.

“Morning, Novak”, you called out, voice warm, loving and familiar, that tone you always used when you were trying to get a rise out of her.

Casey gave a half-nod as she passed, barely slowing down or even turning her head.

“Morning.”

That was it. No smirk. No dry comeback. No “don’t start with me”.

You blinked in a bit of stunned silence for once. It took a few moments to register what had just happened before you pushed off the desk and followed. “What, no witty comeback today?” you said, trailing behind her, voice teasing with a playful mock offence. “Did I do something? You finally get sick of me?”

She paused at her office door, hand on the handle, as she turned to you with a slight discomfort in her face. You were close. Too close. She could smell your perfume, the dizzyingly mysterious, fruity scent that she had memorised for months.

Casey forced a breath. “I’ve got a lot to do,” she said in a dismissive tone. “Trial prep.”

You tilt your head, smiling softly with a gentle furrow in your brow. “You always have trial prep.”

She didn’t respond. Just opened the door and stepped inside.

You sigh. Before she closes it, you add, quieter this time, “God, you’re acting like you’ve seen me naked or something.”

Her hand faltered on the door. Just for a second. Then it closed with a quiet, final click.

The silence didn’t explode. It just settled in. Heavy. Lingering.

You tried not to read into it. Maybe she was just having an off day. Maybe you’d get a dry comeback tomorrow morning and things would slip back into place, easy and familiar.

But the next day, she didn’t stop by your desk.

No joke, no smirk. Just a tight smile and a nod as she passed, her heels clicking down the hallway with finality. The pit in your stomach only got worse when lunch rolled around, and she didn’t swing by to drag you into her office like usual.

You didn’t think much of it the first time. Casey can be moody and overworked; it happens. But then it was two days in a row. Then three. She didn’t knock on your office door to drag you into hers with some sarcastic commentary about opposing counsel. She didn’t show up at your desk with two coffees and some story about the barista mixing up the order.

No texts. No voice notes. Not even the silent, sideways glances during meetings that used to feel like a private conversation by itself.

So you sat with Amanda from intake instead. She caught you on the way to the kitchen, nudging your elbow with a crooked smile and a takeout container in her hand. “Hey, partnerless lunch today too?” she asked. “Wanna split fries and talk about everything wrong with the public defender’s office?”

You smiled before you could think of a reason to say no.

Ten minutes later, you were tucked into the corner booth of the break room, laughing at a story about Amanda’s last arraignment, where a defendant tried to plead guilty just so he could leave faster and avoid his mother.

She was sharp. Crass in a fun way. Kept making you laugh between mouthfuls of soggy fries and chicken nuggets, even offering you the last one without hesitation.

“You’re not as scary as everyone says,” Amanda said with a grin, wiping her fingers with a napkin. “I thought you were Novak’s mini-me for a while. But you’re actually… sweet.”

You huffed a laugh. “That’s definitely not the first time I’ve heard that.”

“Oh? She tilted her head. “Let me guess, someone tell you you’re too nice to be a prosecutor?”

You shrugged, sipping your drink. “Something like that.”

She gave you a warm, knowing look while she let the silence stretch comfortably between you.

Outside, through the thin blinds, Casey walked by. She didn’t mean to stop, didn’t mean to look. She was just passing by on her way to the copier, at least that’s what she told herself. But the second she caught the sound of your laugh, soft and full and not meant for her, it hit her like a fist just under her ribs.

You were leaning in. You were smiling. You weren’t looking at her. Your real laugh, the kind she hadn’t heard in far too long.

When she glanced through the glass, she saw you there, leaning in, your eyes soft, your mouth open just a little like you were about to say something, but were still too caught in a smile. Amanda said something else that made you chuckle, and you nudged her with your shoulder like you’d done it a hundred times before.

She stood there a moment too long, frozen. She stared for a second too long, then two.

Long enough for you to notice.

Your eyes met hers through the break room window. You didn’t flinch, didn’t look away, just held the stare, lips parted around the laugh you didn’t quite finish.

And then, like it cost you nothing, you turned back to Amanda. Not cold, not cruel, just… done waiting.

Casey stood there until the copier behind her beeped angrily, demanding attention. When she passed the break room again, she didn’t look in, but the image stayed with her anyway.

You. With someone else. Smiling like that.

She was still polite. Casey Novak was always polite. Still said good morning, still answered when spoken to, still passed you in the hallway with the occasional nod. But everything in her posture was locked. Closed off. Shut down. Barely looking at you, never really meeting your eyes.

You tried to keep it light. Keep it normal. The way you always did.

The third day, after your lunch with Amanda, you leaned against her doorframe and said, “Don’t tell me I’ve lost my lunch partner to actual productivity.”

She barely glanced up from her file. “Deadlines,” she said. “Discovery responses.”

“Mhm.” You tried for a smile. “You know, I think maybe you’re just avoiding me.”

She didn’t smile back, didn’t look up. “I’m busy.”

The words weren’t cruel, her tone wasn’t harsh. But they still landed like a stone in your chest anyway.

By Friday, it had been four days. You sat in the break room with a sad, half-eaten sandwich and your phone on the table in front of you. No new messages. You weren’t going to send one either, not after she hadn’t replied for days.

She was in her office. You knew that without checking. The blinds were tilted closed.

You told yourself it was fine. Told yourself she just needed space, that she’d come around like she always did when her walls came back up. But it still stung deeper than you wanted to admit. It wasn’t just the missed lunches or the coldness in the hallway. It was the absence of her in the moments that used to feel like yours.

You missed her voice at the end of the day, the dry sarcasm that softened when she handed you coffee. The way her shoulder would brush yours when she leaned over to point at something on your file, as if she didn’t even notice how close she’d gotten.

And maybe she didn’t. But you had.

And now there was nothing. No banter, no teasing. Just the ache of a connection gone quiet against your will.

You stared at your phone again, then flipped it face down on the table.

It shouldn’t sting like this. You weren’t dating, not even flirting technically. Just… something that hovered just in between it. There had always been tension; there had always been something there, but you’d both acted like it was a game. Like nothing really mattered.

Except something had changed, and you didn’t know what. You missed her. And not just her snark, not just her dimples. You missed how easy it had gotten between you. How close she used to sit beside you when you were going through case files. The way she always noticed when you were too tired to keep working through the night, even if she never said anything directly.

Now it felt like she was punishing you. But she didn’t mean it to go this far.

The distance was meant to be temporary. Just enough space to get her head on straight, to stop thinking about your voice in the dark, about the way your body lived in her imagination like it belonged there.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It wasn’t supposed to be gut-wrenching.

Casey sat at her desk, elbows propped on a pile of briefs she hadn’t actually read. She’d been staring at the same paragraph for twenty minutes, in the same position for nearly an hour. Her chin resting on her palm, eyes glazed over the work she had no intention of processing.

She kept thinking that if she could just bury herself in work long enough, the image of you standing outside her office door with that look on your face when she brushed you off would go away.

She hadn’t meant to shut you out like that. Not really. She just didn’t trust herself not to say something she couldn’t take back. Something that would make this real.

Because it was real. That was the problem. And Casey Novak didn’t get real. Not anymore.

So she ignored you, told herself this was the right thing.

Keeping boundaries. Being professional. Protecting the one stable connection she had from the wreckage of her feelings. You were her friend. Her only real friend, if she was being honest. Someone she trusted in a way she didn’t let herself trust anyone anymore. And maybe that trust had turned into something else without her permission, but that didn’t mean she had to act on it.

It was just a moment, right? A weak, stupid moment.

She hated how easily she folded. Your voice in a ten-second message, your name soft in her mouth when she came. And here she is, left feeling so exposed. Like it took nothing to confirm the ache in her chest. She’d told herself if she avoided you long enough, it would pass. That the burn in her chest would cool.

But she missed you. More than she had words for.

The burn in her chest had just turned into something quieter. Meaner. She reached for her phone; she’d been checking it every few minutes, even though she’d told herself she wouldn’t. Just in case you texted. And there it was. A message from you.

Hey. You still coming over tonight? I got that wine you like.

Simple. Warm. Like nothing had changed.

Casey stared at the screen so long that the screen dimmed. Her thumb hovered over the reply box. Her heart climbed uncomfortably high into her throat.

She should say no. Say she was tired, had too much work. Anything.

But the ache didn’t go away. Not in her chest. Not in her hands. Not anywhere. It just shapeshifted from heat to hunger to something hollow. Something that made her flinch when she saw you laugh with Amanda. That made her legs lock up when she caught your eye, and you didn’t look away.

She told herself she could outrun it. That if she kept her head down and stayed busy, it would settle into something manageable. Something professional that she could turn off like a light.

But it wasn’t working, it never did with you.

She rubbed at her sternum with the heel of her palm, trying to massage the tightness out of her chest.

She didn’t deserve your softness. Not after this week, not after what she’d said and what she hadn’t said.

And still, you’d texted her like nothing had happened. Not begging, not confronting, just… extending a hand. Like you always did.

God, you were still trying.

She tapped out the reply before she could talk herself out of it.

Yeah, I’ll be there.

No punctuation, no apology, but her heart pounded like she’d confessed something anyway.

She locked her phone, dropped it face-down on her desk, and exhaled a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding all week.

#law and order svu #casey novak #casey novak x reader #casey novak x female reader #casey novak x you #slow burn #wlw #wlw fanfic #lesbian #sapphic #eventual smut

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darthwhorecrux · 2 days ago

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TW: angst, some depressive themes, but it's followed by fluff. promise <3 Shinji's a little suggestive too but c'monnn that's just how our mans is

Word Count: 1K

"Ya think I don't know somethin's up?"

Shinji came up behind you, his arms crossed over his chest, a stern look on his face. You knew exactly what he meant by his vague question, mentally recounting how avoidant you'd been for a while now.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You still found it in yourself to be stubborn, continuing to avoid, avoid, avoid. Your heart trembled in your chest, knowing it was seen by him.

"C'mon, lovebug," he scoffed at your audacity to continue to evade him. "I know how ya are. You know I know."

You didn't say anything, your throat getting to be too tight. Behind his strict demeanor, you found worry, saw it in the subtle ways his forehead crinkled and his muscles tensed. It made you feel worse about yourself.

At your lack of commentary, he sighed, hesitant. This was uncomfortable for you both. "I know ya don't always feel comfortable, but I need ya to know you can always talk to me." Still, unlike you, he pushed past his discomfort.

It almost had you in tears, him being the light he is, and you and the darkness that consumed you. It only highlighted what you always secretly thought, that you didn't deserve him, his patience, his softness. What if one day you killed his light too?

You blinked away the tears that threatened to make their way out, forcing a small smile. "I know I can. And I appreciate that."

He smiled bitterly, huffing a laugh after you still chose to remain silent. "Still nothin'?"

He didn't deserve to be met with your walls, but it seemed an impossible task for you, to be vulnerable, even with him. You swallowed down the lump in your throat, trying, for him. It terrified you, but this was what he wanted.

"Do you-" your mind attempted to stop the words from coming out, steeling them in place, but you swallowed again, pushing past with a shaky voice, "do you think I'm a horrible person?"

Shinji looked appalled by the idea, his eyes blowing wide, frowning deeply, that cute one he did where he showed his teeth. He quite literally fell back, as if the force of your question knocked him in the chest.

"What the - what?!?" He stammered furiously, not at you, but at whoever made you think such an absurd thing. "No! Nowhere near! Who made ya feel that way?"

You ignored his question, biting down on your wobbling lip and willing strength into your voice as you confessed, "I'm just so afraid - that everyone is going to find out how rotten I really am. I'm afraid you're going to find out, and you're going to leave."

You bit your lip hard, nearly breaking the skin with the effort it took to keep your tears at bay. Now that the truth was out, you knew they'd come crashing down any minute.

"I don't know who's got ya thinkin' that way," he repeated. "But I know you. I know your heart," he softened, coming towards you, but never getting there. "Yer not rotten, sweetheart," he promised, though it seemed to fall on deaf ears. "Yer nowhere near. And I'm not going anywhere."

His words were meant to make you feel better, but your own twisted thoughts made you think differently, feeling worlds away from him, too dark for his light. As expected, the tears came crashing down, numbly, quietly rolling out of your eyes and falling heavy against the floor.

"Oh, doll face."

He came at you the rest of the way, hugging you so tight it hurt. You shook in his arms, trying to accept this, trying to feel worthy of it. As if he knew, he wrapped his arms around you even tighter, suffocating you in his embrace, cradling your head in his hand.

"Yer not horrible," he whispered to you. "I wish ya saw yerself the way I do."

You returned his hug, squeezing him tightly, trusting him, or at least trying to, that you weren't as bad as you thought. He patiently waited, holding you against him as your body shuddered with sobs.

"I mean..." he started, a hint of mischief in his tone. "I've quite literally seen where the sun doesn't shine, heh. I know how beautiful ya are. Inside and out," he added more seriously. "Better than anyone."

It had you shaking with giggles instead, pulling away to look at him, to smile, to wipe your cheeks and nose. His eyes were sad, but he smiled too, helping you wipe the stray tears away. You wished he saw himself the way you saw him too, your light, and his ability to make you laugh, even in the darkest of times.

"Yer my baby," he affirmed. "Hate seeing ya like this."

You knew he didn't intend it, but his words only made you feel like a burden, darkening his light the way you had been afraid to. "I'm sorry."

"Ya have nothin' to be sorry for," he assured, changing the subject, "will ya just...hangout with me?"

You smiled, in spite of yourself, those giggles bubbling to the surface again. "Of course I'll hang out with you."

"We can watch one of yer shows," he mused, smoothing his hand through your hair. "Snuggle n' stuff."

"That sounds perfect."

And it was. Maybe you weren't the best with words, with speaking from the heart, not yet at least, but he always knew how to make it all better. He knew to keep you close, to make you laugh, to show instead of tell, how much he loved you, reminding you that you were worthy of that - to be loved.

And it reminded you, that it was really just that simple sometimes, to love and be loved in return. It made you happiest, to show him how much you loved him too, to reflect his light.

"Shinji?"

"Hm?"

"You're a really good person," you told him, speaking from the heart, realizing that those words could be true for you too. If you didn't deserve it, you wouldn't have it. "I love you so much."

"You're a good person too. I'm in love with you, sweet girl. Please don't ever forget that."

#bleach #bleach x reader #shinji hirako #shinji bleach #bleach anime #shinji hirako x you #shinji hirako bleach #bleach shinji #shinji hirako x reader #shinji hirako drabble #bleach imagines #bleach fanfiction #shinji x reader

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zeldaresourcesforlufans · 3 days ago

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Hero of Hyrule

The Legend of Zelda (1986)

Zelda II: The Adventure of Link (1987)

As always, credit to Linked Universe

Let's kick things off with our favorite Traveler! Read on for a synopsis of Hyrule's background according to the Zelda canon.

Hyrule's games kicked off the Zelda franchise back in the 1980s. Although simple by today's standards, the games were groundbreaking for their time in that they introduced mechanics like open-world exploration, inventory utilization, a health meter, and the ability to create save files.

Although the concept itself is simple, the gameplay can be pretty punishing and these games are often described as difficult, especially Zelda II.

The Legend of Zelda (1986)

The story for the very first Zelda game is also comparatively simple. Princess Zelda - this one referred to in the Linked Universe fandom as Dawn - splits the Triforce of Wisdom up into 8 pieces and hides them throughout the land to keep them from Ganon. Ganon, predictably, is not happy about this and imprisons Dawn. Hyrule's goal is to gather all 8 pieces to be able to defeat Ganon and save Dawn.

Zelda II: The Adventure of Link (1987)

The story for Zelda II is a bit more fleshed out. Six years after the events of the first game, Hyrule is called to adventure again by the mark of the Triforce appearing on his hand. He learns that ages ago, another Princess Zelda - this one referred to in the Linked Universe fandom as Aurora - refused to give up the location of the Triforce of Courage to her shifty brother. Enraged, the brother had Aurora cast into a deep sleep. She can only be woken by reuniting all three pieces of the Triforce, which is the goal of this game. Hyrule does eventually succeed and gains the Triforce of Courage, therefore reuniting the full Triforce and waking Aurora from her magical slumber.

Linked Universe Commentary

The official story of Zelda II states that Hyrule is 16 at the time of that game, and that it has been 6 years since his first adventure. That means that Hyrule was only 10 years old when he first set out, making him one of the youngest if not the youngest Link at the onset of his first adventure. Beyond that, Hyrule is never really given any kind of backstory by Nintendo; he is simply described as a traveler, and his first game just begins with him walking into a cave and receiving a sword from an old man. Because of this, the Linked Universe fandom as well as the Zelda fandom as a whole have created some delightfully elaborate headcanon content based on the few scraps of information we have about him.

Despite the popular headcanon that Hyrule comes from a blighted land, there really isn't much evidence to support this. I think that this headcanon likely came about in large part because of the simplistic style of his games (which of course are due to technology limitations of the time) and the punishing gameplay in which monsters are everywhere, items are rare, and health is hard to come by. If Nintendo's promotional materials are anything to go by, though, Hyrule's world is actually rather pretty!

Another popular headcanon is that Hyrule is part fairy. He does have a spell in Zelda II which allows him to turn into a fairy, so the source of that headcanon is obvious.

Hyrule's blood curse comes up often in Linked Universe fan material. It is true that in Zelda II, Ganon's minions believe that spilling his blood over Ganon's ashes will revive their master, and therefore monsters do flock to Hyrule while he's traveling throughout the land. However, the exact mechanics of how the monsters are able to track him are never really explained, hence the blood curse headcanons.

Do you know any additional information about Hyrlule from his games that you think others might find interesting?

Do you have questions about Hyrule's past for other LU fans?

Feel free to add them by reblogging or replying - this resource is meant to grow!

Stay tuned for more Zelda Resources for Linked Universe Fans coming soon! Next up: Legend!

#linked universe #linked universe hyrule #lu hyrule #linked universe resources

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vitalverstappen · 24 hours ago

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Jealousy, Jealousy - L. Sargeant

summary: Logan was never the jealous type... or so you thought

pairing: Logan Sargeant x reader (established relationship)

warnings: none

word count: 1.5k

commentary box: i had to post this little thing today, in honor of everyone's favorite American's favorite holiday

masterlist

You didn’t know what you were doing at Logan’s childhood home. Sure, you had been there countless times before, but this was different. This was for his little cousin Harper’s sixth birthday.

The party was full of energy - balloons, cake, and an army of little kids running around. Everyone was excited to celebrate, and you were happy to be there with Logan. But there was one thing you hadn’t anticipated: Logan’s cousin, Owen.

Owen was 14 - shy, sweet, but definitely in the stage of trying to figure out how to act when he had a crush. And today, that crush was you.

From the moment you walked in, you could feel his eyes on you. Logan was right beside you, holding your hand and chatting with family, but Owen was always there, hovering just a little too close. You caught him stealing glances at you every time you laughed or talked to someone else. And each time, his gaze would linger just a little too long before he’d quickly look away.

Logan seemed to notice it too. He’d give Owen a quick side-eye whenever the younger cousin hovered too close, but he didn’t say anything at first. He just kept talking, trying to brush it off, but you could tell something was slightly off.

Later, you and Logan were on the couch, watching the kids run around, half paying attention to the baseball game on the TV. To no surprise, Owen appeared out of thin air, leaning awkwardly against the wall beside you.

“Hey, y/n, do you wanna check out the backyard? There’s a trampoline,” Owen said, his voice a little too eager.

You were well aware of the trampoline in the backyard. When Logan first brought you over to meet his parents last year, he insisted on dragging you out on it, even though neither of you were any good on it.

You looked at Logan, who was trying to hide his annoyance behind a tight grin. “Uh, sure, Owen. I’ll join you in a bit,” you replied politely. But Owen wasn’t having it. He stepped closer, practically standing over you.

“Right now?” Owen asked, his voice almost pleading.

Logan’s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t say anything. You looked at him again, trying to gauge a reaction, but he was staring at Owen with a look that was starting to feel like jealousy. He gave a small shrug, forcing a smile. “It’s fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “You go ahead, y/n. I’ll be here.”

Even though it was his own house, you didn’t want to leave Logan alone, especially since he was the one who brought you. But, Owen’s enthusiasm was hard to ignore. You reluctantly stood up. “Alright, I’ll come with you for a little while,” you said to Owen, flashing Logan a smile.

As you walked out to the backyard with Owen, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Logan wasn’t too happy about it. You turned to look over your shoulder, and sure enough, Logan was watching you both from the doorway, his arms crossed tightly.

Owen led you to the trampoline, and you tried to make small talk to keep the mood light. “So, how’ve you been? I heard you’re into video games.”

Owen, who had been practically vibrating with nervous energy, brightened up at the chance to talk about his favorite topic. “Yeah! I love them. I was actually thinking of showing Logan some new tricks in that racing game we both play.”

“I’m sure he would love that,” you said as you sat down on the trampoline next to Owen. “I know he races for a living, but I think he needs all the help he can get on that game.”

Before Owen could even respond, you heard Logan’s voice from the doorway of the house.

“You guys having fun?” He called out, his tone just a little too sweet. “Do you guys need anything?”

You gave your boyfriend a reassuring smile, knowing this would be a conversation for later. “We’re good, Logan. Just hanging out.”

Logan nodded, and disappeared back into the house, but you could still feel his eyes on you, even though he was out of sight. It wasn’t like Logan to be this annoyed about anything.

You weren’t sure how long you were out on the old trampoline with Owen, but thankfully you guys were called in to sing Happy Birthday before Logan could get any more worked up.

As the two of you made your way into the kitchen, your eyes instantly locked with Logan’s. You gave your boyfriend a mischievous grin as you walked over, his arms wrapping around your waist.

Owen moved to the other side of the room, where all the other cousins his age were. You could hear their giggles and laughs, most likely teasing Owen about his crush, but you didn’t care. It was all harmless, afterall.

The whole family gathered around the table, everyone singing a loud, cheerful “Happy Birthday” to little Harper, who looked beyond excited to blow out her candles. You could feel the love and warmth of Logan’s family wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. It was moments like these that made you so glad to be a part of his world.

After the song and cake, people started to break off into smaller groups, chatting and catching up. You were standing by the dessert table when Logan found you again. His eyes scanned the room, making sure Owen was occupied, before pulling you aside toward a quiet corner of the living room.

“You good?” Logan asked, his voice softer now, but there was a hint of concern laced in.

You tilted your head, giving him a playful smile. “I’m good. Are you good?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, looking like he was trying to gather his thoughts. “I just… I don’t like it when Owen gets all weird around you, y’know? I’m just not used to it.”

You leaned against the wall, crossing your arms, the smile slowly turning into a smirk. “Are you jealous?”

Logan scoffed in response, caught off guard by the question. “Of a kid? No way.”

Your gaze softened. “Logan, he’s 14. He’s just figuring things out. It’s not like he’s trying to make a move on me. He’s just shy, and I don’t think he even knows how to act.”

A small huff escaped Logan’s lips, clearly not convinced, but his features softened slightly. “I know, I know. It’s just… I guess I’m still protective. You’re mine, and no one else gets to think they can have a shot.”

You smiled, stepping forward and gently placing a hand on his chest. “And I’m all yours, Logan. Always. No need to worry about that.”

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, all the tension seemed to melt away. His hand found a way to your cheek, pulling you in for a quick kiss, a gesture that was both reassuring and a little possessive. “You’re right. I just don’t like sharing you with anyone, even if it’s my little cousin.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him. “You know, I think his crush on me is probably gonna be a running joke at every family gathering for the next five years.”

Logan chuckled, his arm wrapping around you protectively. “As long as it stays a joke. He’s got a lot of growing up to do before he realizes you’re way out of his league.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully nudging him. “He’s just a kid, Logan. No need to get too smug about it.”

Logan flashed you a mischievous grin. “I’ll get smug whenever I want. You’re mine, and no one else is taking you away from me.”

You shook your head but couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, alright. No one is taking me anywhere.”

As you stood there with Logan, listening to the sounds of Harper’s laughter and the chaos of kids running around the house, you felt a warmth spread through you. Sure, the jealousy might have been a little ridiculous, but you couldn’t help but to find it endearing. Logan was protective, and that meant something to you.

After a few more minutes, the two of you rejoined the family. As soon as Owen saw you and Logan together, he gave a quick glance away, clearly embarrassed by how obvious his crush had been. You shot him a quick wink, and he blushed furiously, quickly turning back to his cousins.

Logan smirked, looking down at you. “Don’t worry. He’ll get the hint soon enough.”

You laughed softly. “It’s cute. Besides, who could blame him? I am pretty awesome.”

Logan rolled his eyes but pulled you closer, making sure everyone knew exactly where you belonged. He was still the one you were with, and it wasn’t like you were going anywhere.

As the night went on, the teasing about Owen’s crush faded into the background, and you settled into the fun of the birthday party. But every now and then, you caught Logan’s possessive gaze on you, and it made your heart flutter every time. You were his, and that was something no one, not even a 14-year-old with a crush, could change.

#logan sargeant #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #writing #creative writing #f1 writing #f1 imagine #writeblr #writers on tumblr #williams #williams racing #williams f1

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queen-of-gotham · 3 days ago

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☀️👙💦First Date💦👙☀️

(Pro-hero!Shoto Todoroki x f!reader)

This piece is Week Five of my multi-fandom series

🌺Summer Lovin’🌺

Word Count: 1,041

Synopsis: You met number two pro-hero Shoto a couple of weeks back and now you’re on a first date at the pool.

The sun is blazing by the time Shoto arrives at the private pool on the rooftop of your building, out of sight from the public eye so that you two weren’t swarmed on the first date.

You had met Shoto by complete fate a couple of weeks ago. You were walking home in the rain from work, your hoodie pulled over your head, AirPods in, lost in your own little world when a seven-foot villain crash-landed in front of you, only for you to get saved by the number two hero in Japan. You’d made a bad joke amidst the chaos- he didn’t get it, and somehow by the end of it, he’d asked for your number.

And now you all were on your first date.

Shoto had a towel in one hand and his back over his shoulder, his eyes landing on you, laid back in a lounge chair, a pink towel under the frame of your body, as you tanned. The gate clicked as he walked inside the pool area, grabbing your attention, and he watched how you pulled your sunglasses on top of your head, revealing your pretty eyes.

You smiled brightly when your gaze met his, waving hello, “You made it! I’m so glad you made time in your schedule for this-“

Shoto watches as you ramble, moving to sit down beside you in a different lounger. He sits his bag down on the ground between your two seats, the towel neatly folded in his lap. He finds you interesting. The way you can just talk and joke without fear of being too much or weird. It reminds him a bit of Midoriya and how he mumbles when he gets hyper-focused on something.

“I make time for things that I find important.” He concludes when you finally pause in your ‘glad you made it!’ ramble.

His comment makes your cheeks flush, a soft laugh passing your plush lips. Your fingers gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you look over to the pool water, the sunshine glistening across it, a gentle breeze pushing a couple of floaties through the water.

“That’s a good trait to have.” You hum back before standing up, stretching, then slowly walking to the water. Shoto watched the way your muscles move under your supple skin, and his eyes lingered on the way your hips sway, ass barely covered by the fabric of your bikini bottoms as you sit on the edge of the pool.

- 💦 ☀️ 🍹-

The two of you swim together and talk- well, you talk. You do most of the talking, engaging in the way you ask questions to learn more about him. From what he likes to do in his free time and his favorite color, and you respond with answers of your own without him having to ask after you’ve heard his answers out. He always listens intently when you talk about your siblings and your childhood. He nods along to your stories and occasionally offers dry but funny, unexpected commentary that makes you laugh louder than you’d normally do.

And Shoto is positive it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.

You’re playful and smiling when you splash him, playing in the water, and Shoto is enjoying himself far more than he originally thought he would when you suggested a pool date.

He thinks you’re attractive, but he’s being respectful, trying to be anyway. Occasionally, his eyes wander down to how a stray water drop travels down your neck, down into the hidden valley between your breast, and he’ll clear his throat and look away.

When the sunshine starts to fade down into the horizon and the sky becomes lit in pinks and oranges, he orders takeaway from some steakhouse to be delivered, and the two of you eat at a bistro table by the pool. Your hair is damp and tangled from swimming, his dual-colored strands sticking to his forehead.

“You know,” you start between bites of your dinner, glancing up to meet his gaze, “you’re like, way different than most people I hang out with.”

Shoto looks at you curiously, “different in what way?”

“You actually listen to me. And you’re like… solid. Calm. It’s really nice.”

He isn’t sure how to respond to that, sipping on his drink as he formulates a response that he feels is somewhat normal, thank god for all that PR training honestly. “You are very far from calm. But I like it.”

The sun eventually dips down below the horizon and the two of you decide to call it a night.

Shoto is a bit shocked when you tip toe to hug him, arms draping over his shoulders. He takes a moment, cautious as he finally hugs you back.

“I had such a nice time.” You murmur softly.

“Yeah, me too.” He says, pulling back and looking down at your pretty face, a soft smile on his own lips. “I’d like to do it again, if-?”

“Yes.” Your answer is out before he can even finish his question and his hands give your hips a soft squeeze as he chuckles a bit.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, one hand coming up to brush damp strands of hair off your cheek and you swear you forget how to breathe for a moment before you nod in agreement.

He leans in, slow at first like he’s giving you the opportunity to change your mind and pull away before it happens, his lips pressing to yours in a soft, fluid motion. Shoto’s lips are a bit chapped from being in the sun all day, sliding against yours that have a layer of vanilla-mint chapstick.

The contact is tentative and warm. Not rushed in anyway, the kind of kiss that feels like the start of something good, wrapped in the fabric of something else that feels familiar like, the lyrics of an old favorite song that feel you with nostalgia. Like maybe your souls knew each other once before.

The kiss breaks, both of you pulling back, gazes caught on one another wearing quiet, matching smiles. There’s no need to say anything as a comfortable, warm silence surrounds you both, because that first kiss said everything.

💘click here to be added to my Taglist💘

💥My Hero Academia Masterlist💥

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catgirlkirigiri · 3 months ago

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Iris my love... gotta have the girly secondary fursona. For gender time. Actually think she's being demoted to fursona number 3 but idk we'll see about the pecking order when refs are all done. She was waaay overdue for a redesign oh shit I just realized I didn't put a color palette on here. Oh well ig too late for that now I am not rearranging that bg

#oh i should pop some character related tag commentary to the top of the tags thatd be neat. so uhh fun facts. i think my sibling technically #made her first design waaaaay back cause they drew her before i ever did. i dont remember which of us actually came up with her tho lol. sh #has antlers but shes always been cis in my mind so just like. dont think about it too hard ig. also while she is in part named after the #flower cause hashtag girly things (this was before i too was named after a flower. hindsight am i right) she was primarily named after the #song. by the goo goo dolls. the song thats really transgender to me. hindsight am i right. whys my cis girl fursona got all the transness #oh yeah and that earring is supposed to look like an iris. they are not easy flowers to draw tho good lird #she used to be a whitetail/fennec cause i love my local deer but mule deers big ol ears have swayed me. i love a big deer ear #she also used to have paws and a nub tail but i realized i was missing the best part of fox. big fluffy tail. and then the paws made her #look too fox yknow. wanted her to really look like a hybrid instead of just 'fennec with antlers' lol. anyway now for less relevant tag tal #guys i fear i am fursuit brained rn i keep looking at her and thinking about how fun she'd be to make a suit of. im too broke for thissssss #im already working on a suitttt i cant start another one on the side i dont even know where to get foam.... cause joann fabrics is gone...#actually wait i gotta figure that out like. real soon. i need foam still for the head im working on. shoot. uh. guys where do i get foam #i fear finishing lichens tail and starting zoras head has made me realize fursuit making may be my passion. but i do not have the finances #for this. tbh might see if i can just work my ass off for a month in like idk june just to get it over with for a bit and have money. but i #know that will not be a good idea it kills me to work more than like 5 hour shifts for more than threeish days in a row #i should really just actually make a commission sheet and take comms. that would be ideal #anyway i will now shut up :) and also schedule this for a few hours from typing cause i just posted a different ref #zoracontent #zora arts #clovers characters #iris #furry #sfw furry #fursona

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quatregats · 7 months ago

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I'm rereading Master and Commander and I'm deeply in danger of just posting every single passage from it ever but I did love the way that the capture of the prize in Chapter 6 was framed on either side by the logbook's entry, and also the way he transitions out of it to set the scene and tone:

Sunday, July 1 … Mustered the ship’s company by divisions read the Articles of War performed Divine Service and committed the body of Henry Gouges to the deep. At noon dº weather. Ditto weather: but the sun sank towards a livid, purple, tumescent cloud-bank piled deep on the western horizon, and it was clear to every seaman aboard that it was not going to remain ditto much longer. The seamen, sprawling abroad on the fo’c’sle and combing out their long hair or plaiting it up again for one another, kindly explained to the landmen that this long swell from the south and east, this strange sticky heat that came both from the sky and the glassy surface of the heaving sea, and this horribly threatening appearance of the sun, meant that there was to be a coming dissolution of all natural bonds, an apocalyptic upheaval, a right dirty night ahead. The sailormen had plenty of time to depress their hearers, already low in their spirits because of the unnatural death of Henry Gouges (had said, ‘Ha, ha, mates, I am fifty years old this day. Oh dear,’ and had died sitting there, still holding his untasted grog) – they had plenty of time, for this was Sunday afternoon, when in the course of nature the fo’c’sle was covered with sailors at their ease, their pigtails undone. Some of the more gifted had queues they could tuck into their belts; and now that these ornaments were loosened and combed out, lank when still wet, or bushy when dry and as yet ungreased, they gave their owners a strangely awful and foreboding look, like oracles; which added to the landmen’s uneasiness.

[...]

Jack leant back against the curved run of the stern-window and let Killick’s version of coffee down by gulps into his grateful stomach; and at the same time that its warmth spread through him, so there ran a lively tide of settled, pure, unfevered happiness – a happiness that another commander (remembering his own first prize) might have discerned from the log-entry, although it was not specifically mentioned there: 1/2 past 10 tacked, 11 in courses, reefed topsail. AM cloudy and rain. 1/2 past 4 chase observed E by S, distance 1/2 mile. Bore up and took possession of dº, which proved to be L’Aimable Louise, French polacre laden with corn and general merchandise for Cette, of about 200 tons, 6 guns and 19 men. Sent her with an officer and eight men to Mahon.

#also it's interesting the way that he discusses the death of the loblolly boy here but always in diffuse contexts #and then that ends up tying in with the sin-eater becoming the new loblolly boy but it all flows very naturally and unassumingly #and the way he comments on the limitations but significance of the logbook for storytelling...interesting stuff #like at the beginning of this he's like it talks about opening a cask of beef and the death of the loblolly boy and the first prize capture #in the exact same dispassionate tone #but then he ends it with this - the fact that to a professional eye there's a hidden joy in that dispassionate tone #(and that's just what he's spent the last x pages uncovering)#interesting commentary on and use of 'primary sources'. interesting historiographical commentary happening there #idk i digress. i also liked that he pointed out the death of the loblolly boy in conjunction with that one poster here #who noticed that in the ship's muster the only death is the lieutenant which is a fun bit of foreshadowing #i wonder if this was meant as a signpost to be like actually you SHOULD pay attention to these details i will make them significant :)#i love his writing so so much there's so much to uncover and also so much to learn from him i feel like #lots of neat little tricks and of course no one compares in setting the tone with scenery #perce rambles #aubreyad #The Creative Endeavor and other aubreyad nonsense #as one of my professors the other day said (not about this book but i think it applies):#'this is the sort of book where if you're not careful you'll end up highlighting* the whole thing'#* - replace 'highlight' with 'post on tumblr'#glad i'm rereading it slowly it really rewards it #can't wait to get to post captain and hms surprise and give them the same time and thought

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vagueeyes · 3 months ago

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It's you who are dead.

THEATRE OF BLOOD (1973) PSYCHOVILLE | S1E7 "Ravenhill" INSIDE NO. 9 | S3E3 "The Riddle of the Sphinx"

#theatre of blood #psychoville #in9 #inside no 9 #inside no. 9 #in9 x film #the riddle of the sphinx #and ofc that bit from the theatre of blood commentary + bfi #where r says s gave him a tshirt with that quote(?)#actually wasn't what i had intended to post today but the other btag idea sort of fell apart #(might revisit that some other time)#and i was thinking about psychoville earlier anyway #has this been done btw? well here's my take i guess since i've always wanted to do it #vagueeyes.pdf

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batsplat · 8 months ago

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It actually kills me that Pecco is Valentino’s #1 protege bc I kinda feel like had they both met in like…2000 (let’s say they were the same age somehow) I feel like the mutual vibe between them would’ve been kinda like…“hm this guy SUCKS”.

Do u agree? I can see younger Vale being a little intrigued by Pecco, & Pecco being a little starstuck (like younger Casey) but I just think their vibes are so incompatible. Particularly compared w the other academy boys, who I think are slightly better fits…(except, hilariously, I would also say Luca is another kind of outlier).

IDK. Anyway thank u for all your amazing answers & historical knowledge batsplat <3 I so appreciate all the time you take to answer these questions & lay out the full surrounding context to things <3

first off, thank you!! that's really lovely!! secondly. hm this is a fun one I hadn't really thought about. the thing about the young casey comparison + what his relationship with valentino looked like is that he is six and a half-ish years younger than valentino... which feeds into why he's so starstruck. that's a very different dynamic from being valentino's direct peer, I feel. I kinda think the problem you have for any italian in vaguely that same age bracket is that it's just going to be tough to handle being so completely outshone by valentino. like, let's not speculate about results here because that's a fool's errand - in terms of actual popularity, there just isn't really any rider you could put alongside young valentino for that to be a remotely equal contest. and that inequity is worse if you're italian... you're not even going to have your home crowd rooting for you, right. the media attention will be 98% focused on the other guy. melandri's a good case study here, as a guy who's just a bit younger than valentino and highly rated in his junior years, but whose own relationship with valentino seemed to kinda sour over the years for various reasons. melandri is admittedly a bit of an odd bloke in his own right and is also a bit odd in the way he talks about valentino, but he's spoken a fair bit about how tough it was feeling like nobody in italy gave a shit about him with valentino around. which must be tough! there's 'working in silence' and then there's being 'practically invisible'... and that does also inevitably affect the relationship I reckon. you have to have an ego at pecco's level - and that kind of ego would always take some bruising if you have to come up against valentino in his full pomp

in terms of their actual interpersonal dynamic, it's always important to remember valentino got on pretty well with basically almost everyone!! especially in those early years, you don't even really have the same wariness of potential rivals. like, once he gets to the premier class it's more or less 'biaggi' and 'not biaggi'. he never has any issues with his title rival in 2000, kenny roberts jr. he's always gotten on very well with countryman and 1998 title rival capirossi, who he remained good friends with even when they were kinda *hand wiggles* title rivals in 2006. capirossi should have been more of a title contender that season and could well have gone on to win that title, but he got taken out in catalunya through no fault of his own - so not really any time for tensions to develop, which makes it a bit tricky to judge what that might have done to the relationship. when valentino and him have a tight duel in sepang later that season and valentino puts on a rather stern last lap defence to win that race (got to be one of his most underappreciated rides, he has like three classic race wins in 2006 I never see anyone discuss), capirossi climbs on his lap during the podium ceremony. so, y'know. capirossi is admittedly a way milder character than pecco, but it is notable how fond he remains of valentino throughout. though unlike pecco he does play into one of valentino's core weaknesses - valentino's fondness for having a little guy around. if you shave off ten centimetres from pecco then he'd basically be set for life

that being said, I agree they probably wouldn't be particularly close lol. prime valentino is probably a little too much for pecco, like you imagine they'd be cordial but pecco's just a tad reserved and wants to assert a bit of autonomy. which actually places him in a pretty decent position for that relationship to not blow up completely in his face - you kinda feel like he'd straddle the line between not being as abrasive as biaggi and not having *gestures vaguely* whatever that was between valentino and sete. the nicky hayden principle, right - who got through two teammate stints with valentino and actually beating him to a title with that relationship completely intact. cf hayden saying that valentino never played any mind games with him, that valentino didn't change his behaviour towards hayden depending on the points gap etc. valentino might "know how to play people", but he's not doing it with just anyone

some of this does inevitably depend on how much of a competitive threat pecco is in this hypothetical timeline. and if you actually put him in the dani/casey/jorge age bracket then all bets are off. it's basically the opposite of what I was saying with casey and jorge, where you'd imagine valentino-the-mentor-figure would have been an incredibly helpful presence for those two guys specifically. the thing about valentino is that he's very adept at being both valentino-the-rival and valentino-the-mentor-figure, but those two roles just look completely different. decent mentor all things considered, considerably less fun to have as a rival. and with pecco... I mean, you're basically dealing with a less prickly less neurotic casey-type, aren't you. pecco has the edge over casey in that he's not quite as... you know. how do I say this diplomatically. I don't think pecco would spend half the season complaining about valentino 'moaning and whinging' and then feature valentino's name on his title-winning shirt, let's put it that way. even with the italian factor, I reckon he'd manage to be at least 2% more normal about valentino, which probably would also help make the dynamic with valentino a bit more normal. and I'm sure valentino would come up with some horribly inventive ways of tormenting pecco and I do reckon he's absolutely up to that task, but I don't think something like laguna 2008 specifically would be the way to go about it. doesn't feel like you could quite blow up that relationship with a single race. the thing about laguna 2008 is that it's very bespoke casey torture, like that does not hit nearly as well against any other rival. ... I just realised I spent a good five minutes daydreaming about what advice I'd give valentino to crack pecco, which. anyways. let's cut it off there. but yeah, that would've been quite a fun match-up actually - specifically because pecco is such an annoyingly excellent defensive rider. arguably better at that than any of valentino's major rivals, which given valentino's MO you'd think would throw up its own distinct challenge

where the casey example IS instructive is in reminding you what an annoyingly charismatic bastard valentino is. I kind of feel like if you can have that kind of an effect on baby casey, you probably can make any of these undersocialised brats fall head over heels for you if you have a good swing at it. there's also the interesting question of what happens to pecco if you take away the vr46 support structure (obviously we're assuming he's still making it to motogp). my sense is you take away a little bit of... not his self-belief, exactly, or even his confidence necessarily - just a sense of security, of comfort in his own skin. I do reckon it makes him a bit more casey-ish in some aspects, just a touch more brittle and likely to take things personally... but, well, obviously we are now in the realm of very far-flung speculation. idk! whatever the exact age permutations between him and valentino would be, my sense is that valentino is charming enough and pecco is susceptible enough to being charmed that it's not like. open revulsion from day one. and to some extent, pecco's canonical willingness to let valentino hog the spotlight would stand him in good stead - it's like when casey said he didn't want to be the next valentino... these aren't necessarily guys who would even want that kind of attention on them. which does feel like a different dynamic to melandri doing his own showy celebrations. they DO want to be liked, maybe more than either of them are willing to admit, they both have a similarly pronounced sensitivity to being misinterpreted - but I don't feel like pecco would be killing himself with envy over valentino's reach in italy. maybe just a little bit, because that is probably normal in that situation... but I reckon he'd work through it

anyway, yeah. my thing is I don't actually give anyone a particularly high chance of surviving valentino's initial charm onslaught unscathed and I... don't feel like pecco would be an exception to that? the closest exception is jorge, but valentino never tried to charm him - and also jorge was still aggressively deeply weird about valentino so I'm not sure that's the template. cf how jorge still not managing to shut up about how fantastic valentino's celebrations were even when they were in an actual title fight. so yeah, idk. I don't see any reason why valentino would react that negatively towards pecco, who definitely comes across more like casey than he does like jorge and wouldn't immediately register as an active nuisance to valentino. I don't think they'd be FRIENDS and maybe they wouldn't match each other's vibe particularly well... interesting question actually if they'd have better or worse interpersonal chemistry than casey and valentino. maybe a bit worse? pecco's perhaps somewhat more guarded and world-weary from day one, so maybe a tad better at just keeping his distance and playing things by ear. pecco's natural wariness would probably do him quite a lot of good there and just make sure things... maybe get a bit unpleasant between him and valentino but never actively terrible. maybe the closest analogue would be a snippier, slightly brittler version of dovi, actually. two guys who get on pretty well but just move in different circles - with relatively restrained open animosity unless the competitive situation demands otherwise

#real talk most of the academy riders aren't massively valentino's type of guy. those are his KIDS but not friends per se #the thing is. right. five guys you loathe over the course of 25 years isn't actually *that* crazy. like he was an affable fellow #this is how you get casey not-like-other-girls-ing himself into going 'well valentino gets on great with ALMOST everyone'#valentino's really great at making rivals not-like-other-girls-ing themselves so you'd assume pecco would be the same right #the only one who this doesn't happen to is jorge but. again. only because valentino disliked him from first glance. different vibe #//#brr brr #batsplat responds #//currt #//clt #//st #yknow i havent thought about this au before but i just realised i've implicitly done this in my live motogp commentary for years #every time i say a rider '[would/would not] pass the valentino test' depending on their behaviour/rhetoric in a race weekend #this is NOT a riding challenge TO BE CLEAR it's me passing judgement on how mentally torture-able a specific rider is #most recently i think was when jorge said he was 'a bit scared' of marc's late race pace. like that's not passing the valentino test #nobody will ALWAYS pass the valentino test but you've got to keep the margins respectable y'know #//brr brr

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