#brain thomas x reader

[maskysluvr]

pleasee . i’ve been thinking abt this everyday since its came out 🥲 .

I just want Brian to pull down my panties, cum in them, lift them back up, and send me on my way. I am down tremendously-

content/warnings: noncon, physical restraint, reader is AFAB and wears panties but no gender is specified, “cunt” and “pussy” used to describe reader’s genitalia, thigh fucking, pervert Brian, no actual penetrative sex, reader gets jumped in the woods, little to no build up/plot it’s just straight into the porn

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

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Without warning you’re suddenly shoved to the ground, a heavy weight coming down on your back to keep you there. You yelp in surprise as you feel a body land on top of yours, pushing you into the dirt and sending a sharp pain through your ribs as they bend beneath the force of two people. 

Your attempt to yell out is swiftly cut short when a gloved hand tangles itself in your hair, gripping it tightly as it muffles your cries with the soft dirt on the forest floor. You can feel the small rocks hidden in the soil leaving scrapes on your cheeks as you thrash.

The stranger’s second hand comes down on your back, grabbing at your waist to pull your ass into the air as he hastily, almost clumsily pulls up the bottom of your shirt. He fumbles with the waistband of your shorts, fingers slipping over your button as the fabric of his glove fights with him. He lets up on your hair for one second just so he can use both hands, violently yanking at the fasten of your jeans until it surrenders to his efforts with a harsh ripping sound. He pulls your zipper down so fast it nearly breaks, and even quicker still he’s jerking your shorts down your hips and then your thighs. You’re only allowed to lift your head long enough to cough and spit, wincing at the feeling of dirt in your teeth. You manage to turn and look back at your attacker for only a split second before your face is back against the ground. You whimper against the earth as the sight of the hooded man flashes before your eyes. 

You swear that you can hear him chuckle under his breath at the squeal that crawls up your throat as you feel him pulling eagerly at your panties. You thrash against him as much as you can, but despite your best efforts the pressure on your head and back keeps you disoriented. It’s clear what he wants, though; he lets up just a bit when you sit still. You’re tiring yourself out fast, and you both know it.

You shiver when your panties are pulled down to your knees, resting against the ground and exposing your delicate cunt to the eyes of this aggressive pervert. He smiles under his mask, an expression of absolute debauchery hidden behind black fabric and a sewn on red frown that’ll be burned into your memory forever. 

The strangled noise you let out when you feel him rut against your waiting pussy through his jeans is mortifying. The denim and its metal button are harsh against your sensitive flesh as the stranger practically humps you like a wild dog, hard on twitching in his pants. You can hear him huffing through his mask, breathing heavily through the gaps in his gritted teeth. He’s desperate, nearly rabid with need for a reason that’s beyond you. 

You freeze when you hear him fumble with his zipper, gloved knuckles brushing your back as he struggles with only thing keeping him restrained. A heavy gasp makes your body shake when you suddenly feel the already leaking tip of his cock brush against your thigh. 

“W-Wait, don’t—!” You stammer, thrashing even harder in his grip with the last of your energy. He shushes you harshly, fingers tightening harshly in your hair as a warning. 

“Don’t be so loud,” He whispers, “You’re fine. I ain’t gonna hurt ya unless you make me…” 

You squeak in surprise when his cock slides between your trembling thighs. You instinctively squeeze your legs together, only to cringe when he moans in response. He lets out a shuddering sigh of pleasure as he repositions himself over you, finally releasing your hair only to pin your hands down, wrapping your body in his to keep you still as he starts to thrust. The noises that are pulled from your throat every time he pushes forward are viscerally humiliating, especially the way your voice cracks when his shaft just barely brushes your clit, not once threatening to break through your entrance but taking horrid delight in using it for his own pleasure. He’s shameless in the noise he makes, huffing and groaning in your ear and cursing under his breath every time he moves. 

He barely keeps a steady pace, his desperation becoming apparent with each thrust. You can feel his cock twitch against your thighs as it slides between them, able to feel every vein that runs up the side, all of them pumping hard and fast with adrenaline and primal need. You shudder to think what it would’ve felt like had he decided to use your hole instead.

“H-Haah…you’re…g-getting wet,” He growls in your ear, as though it’s an insult. It may as well be. You whine and turn away from him, biting your lip and ignoring the fact that you can feel yourself soaking his cock and it slides against your cunt. 

You can feel him starting to tremble, and you know in an instant he won’t last much longer. You suck in a breath, silently hoping whatever he chooses to do won’t leave a mess on your back or thighs. You won’t be able to deal with it until you’ve made the trek all the way back down the trail. 

“Gonna…g-gonna cum—“ He whispers through gritted teeth. His hands squeeze around yours, grip getting tighter and tighter, almost to a painful degree as he chases his release with reckless abandon. He’s staring to lose whatever little bit of restraint he has left, and fast. 

All at once his resolve collapses, guttural noises of pleasure falling from his lips as his hips slam erratically against you. He barely manages to choke out one last word of warning before suddenly he stops, cock head barely nestled between your thighs as his entire body tenses and shakes with the force of an orgasm that nearly makes him cry out. He barely manages to strangle the sound before it leaves his throat, cock twitching as it releases hard and fast. You cringe in anticipation of feeling the sticky warmth trail down your thighs, but the sensation never comes. After a few moments you sigh, relieved to have been granted this one small mercy. 

You’re too dazed and dizzy to move when he finally gets up off of you. You stay on the ground despite your humiliating position, and despite the wicked chuckle your attacker allows to slip. 

His boots crunch on the ground, and for a moment you think he’s just going to walk away, leave you here to take care of yourself. Then you feel your panties being slid back up your thighs. You can only be confused for a moment before you’re struck with the uncomfortable feeling of your warm, soaking panties squeezing around the mound of your cunt. The substance is thick and unbearably sticky, not to mention far too much for it to have come from you, especially without an orgasm. 

You flinch and squeal as he fastens your shorts back in place around your waist, tightly keeping your panties in place and making sure you can’t escape the feeling of his cum soaking your pussy and threatening to stain your jeans. 

He stands back up, buttoning his jeans and adjusting his pants a bit before shoving his hands back in the pocket of his faded yellow hoodie. He’s silent for a moment, admiring his work with a hidden smirk spread across his face. 

“Better get walkin’, sweetheart,” He teases, toe of his boot nudging your pussy through your shorts, “It’s a loooong way home.”

[laroserie]

i love the idea of joining the batfam by dating bruce, but can you imagine how awkward it must be ?

like you are dating bruce, you most probably know he is batman (he couldn't date seriously someone and never tell them) which is like a huge thing, you probably knew each others for at least 5 years and dated for at least 2 before you even step foot in his house and even then ! you still have never meet any of his adopted kids, he always has a way of avoiding The meeting.

of course - you know who his kids are, bruce is ... literally the it guy of gotham, you very much know the names and faces of his family - but that's it (now if you know their vigilantes identities is different story)

the question is, are they aware of your existence ? (of course alfred is aware; that out of the question, he followed to development of yours and bruce relationship from a to z)

going more for a no, not at the start, bruce has this clumsy dumb bilionaire personality but he probably could not like for you to receive media attention because he doesn't wish for your privacy to be intruded upon because you are dating (now there may have been one instance where the paparazzi took a picture of you and him together, but they could only see you from the back, or your face wasn't visible for whatever reason). they probably learnt about your existence very late into your relationship with bruce, and it's surely by accident, like, one of them see a message from you to bruce (and it's something probably something very cheesy) when he left it somewhere by inadvertence. and depending on who see that, they either fully open bruce's phone (sorry but they all know his phone password, bruce isn't aware of that tho) and read your conversation or they find some others way to have access to his messages with you (that isn't so blatant).

they for sure, do an 'emergency' meeting about it (dick and damian were the two that really wanted to do one, the rest probably don't care that much at that time, they probably think you are just the fling of the month for bruce - well usually the fling of the month is not that ... cheesy with him ? in their messages, and the conversations aren't usually that long ... nor do they go back that much. but whatever ! they do suddenly notice that it's been a while, since, well the last fling of the month of bruce but, it must just be a coincidence) which end up with them keeping tabs on you, just in case

now, you meeting them could happen in two way

either they are the one to meet you first - they don't want to wait for bruce to formally introduce you to them - or them to you. the one that 'lead' this is for sure damian, he is determinate to find out your intention with his father (and fight you), dick will lie and say he is just there to make sure everything go 'well' but he is just genuinely very curious about you and the fact that you are dating bruce - this can go for most of them, tho cass and tim are probably the one that are the most reticent to meeting you ? but nevertheless, they still are here, because they for sure won't let damian and dick have all the 'fun'. now jason, is probably also coming for the shit and giggle.

or you meeting them could happen because of bruce - deciding that it's finally time you meet his kids, so he invite all of them to dinner telling them he was someone he wants them to meet, and telling you explicitly that he wants you to meet his family (and the people that are part of his family but aren't family family) - of course, he could talk about it with you first, he could never force you into that. the meet - dinner, probably do not go in the way bruce hoped for it to go (but truth be told, he wasn't expecting it to go the way he wished it did). it's not awful, nothing bad happen. it's just awkward. one of them (probably jason) let slip that they already knew about you - damian make it very clear that he doesn't accept you (and dick has to try to diffuse the situation and tell you that damian is just joking - damian is not joking and he gives a death glare to dick), tim probably do not say anything of half of the dinner before asking you a weird question about something he should have no information about (like what's up with one of your weird habit / quirk), cass is just silent - she assess you for the entirety of the dinner (she conclude by the end of it that you quite a nice person and that she likes you quite a bit), duke is very kind and is very polite with you (he is a bit apprehensive and isn't sure why he is there but he figures it's because bruce wanted to have at least one regular person treating you normally - dick is too ... enthusiastic for that role)

at the end of said dinner, when bruce is driving you home, it's probably the most silent ride home you have ever experienced. until you burst out laughing - the dinner was probably the funniest shit you experienced. it felt like it came straight out of a shitty tv show with 14 seasons. sure it was very much awkward but still funny ! you reassure bruce that it was fine, though you could have liked a warning.

and ... you can add a yandere twist on it, and i love yandere so ... . some of them (tim and cass and probably dick) could start developing yandere tendencies when they learn of your existence ( and keep 'tab on you' aka stalks you and learn everything they can about you ), the others (damian and jason + eventually steph and duke even though they are probably some of waaay lesser yandere-y yandere) could start becoming like that after they finally meet you in person. damian could be the one to take the most or less time to become attach on you, it depend, but he could go thru a big phase of 'i refuse for you to replace talia, my mother, therefor i will despite your entire existence' but if you try to get closer to him, this phase will end very soon and his barrier melt away, if you want to let him take his time to accept you, the result will be the same but damian will try to make up for the time he hated you.

and of course, yandere bruce could be so happy for you to like / get to know and get closer to his family, and that's one more way he can tie you to him !

[love-toxin]

The way you write Tommy is just UUGH

I just wanna pin him down and ride him until he has nothing left to give :((( like gimme his chunky babies!! 😭🙏

oh noooooooo........my gears are turning......tommy with an obsessed s/o that wants to bump uglies constantly......MMMRRRROOWWWW!!!

he's so flattered, but so edgy about it cause momma can't overhear him engaging in premarital sex!!! especially not the type you like where it's just messy and raw and rough and you leave spit and slick everywhere, all over his hairy chest and his lap and your clothes. you have to do it in the barn in the hayloft and its STILL loud, still so sloppy he has to carry you in the house just so none of his family notice the dark stains on your clothes.

but can he complain? no. cause you're the only one who's ever seen him as a man and not just a mistake, and it's not like he doesn't like seeing you so needy all the time. you could be doing this to any other guy but you wanna do it to him--him! a nobody, a wretched defect like him! you must be an angel. or maybe you're a devil cause you fuck as nasty as one. he loves the scrape of your nails through his hair as you drag them down his sweaty chest, when you're perched like a pretty sculpture on his lap. his thighs jiggle every time you bounce on it--his cock, that's what you call it--and you can't help but grip them, squeeze them for balance but also cause you just love the feel of him everywhere. his belly doesn't bother you nor does the grime and sweat caking his skin, nor the dirt under his fingernails or his maddening, untrimmed bush that radiates out to his thighs like a curly black cloud.

it doesn't matter if he's been working in the slaughterhouse all day, shoveling pig shit, or doing any of his other messy chores. when you give him that look like you wanna eat him right up, he's completely at your mercy and he loves every fucking minute of it. you look at him like he's a piña colada in the desert and you'll die if you don't get a sip.

and that's before you start getting hit with baby fever. suddenly, almost out of the blue, you're picking through baby clothes in the trunks upstairs and finding old rattles and toys that are barely holding together. Tommy's baby bottles that Luda Mae kept and never threw away cause she could never bear to part with her sweet baby's things, even after he'd grown up and out of them. it's the sentiment that really gets you and then you're stuck thinking about babies, not just about what Tommy was like when he was that young, but what your babies together might look like. would they have his nice dark hair? his height? would they be hardworking and loyal like he is? would they be so committed to their family they would...

well, that part isn't important right at the moment. you're more concerned with making the babies than anything else--that's the fun part, after all. you keep dropping hints here and there but it's when Tommy finds you sewing together a stuffed bear he loved as a boy that he really starts thinking. you're so gentle with it. you clean him up and polish his little button eyes and patch up a hole on the arm where Hoyt 'accidentally' burned it with a cigarette while he was drunk. you put him back together and he looks almost brand new, newer than when he first had it and Luda Mae tenderly plucked it out of the dumpster to give to him for his birthday.

he gets it then. that night is deplorable when you two sneak out to the barn. Tommy's just as riled up as you are and when you realize he's not just fucking you for pleasure--this time, he's fucking to breed--your sobs and choked-up squeals have to be muffled by his thick fingers stuffed in your mouth. he hooks them and drags your face closer to his chest for you to suffocate between his pecs, cause he needs both hands to grip your waist and jam you down on his cock like he's shoving a cork back in a wine bottle. you're just so little compared to him and such a tight squeeze, he can't help getting a little rough when he wants in! it's just prepping you for birth. you're gonna need to squeeze out plenty of kids for him after this, and with his size? they're gonna be little monsters to try and deliver, just like he was.

but you love him and that's why you're doing this. that's why you let his nuts drag down your ass on every deep, near-painful thrust, and why you let him beat your cunt like he hates you when there's nothing but pure love and possessiveness in his eyes. that's why, when you squirm to get away, he knows you don't really mean it and slams your hips back down for you to howl like a cat in heat. that's why he can't let you sleep until sunrise, when you're half-conscious and spasming with leg twitches, cause the seed pooling in your tummy hasn't stopped leaking out from every time he's planted his roots into your squishy womb. he's gotta make sure it takes just in case you change your mind. once you get pregnant, then you really are part of the family--you'll be a Hewitt just like all the rest of them, birthing the next generation of Hewitts to keep the family roots strong <3

[cyberghouleo]

proxy twitter au part 3

part 1 part 2 part 4

[auroreliis]

Platonic batfam (or romantic, if you prefer). With darling who's English language not native. And theynot take a words in English like Their native language, Not entirely. Would insisted Bruce what batkid (any age, sure) call he "father" but on the Their (Her/His) native language? If he will know what They don't make the meaning same, like for he and batboys (and girls)? I mean, I would easily call someone "father" or "brother" exactly in English even if I don't perceive them as such, because it's not father-Father for me. How about others? Maybe batfam take it as an opportunity for to get close to darling, to teach Them to better perceive English and them in this context. And also. What about darling who swears in his native language (switches to his native language when angry/annoyed). Conversely, They calls those They like with nice nicknames in his native language, for example, Alfred (the cat and the original), Duke, probably girls.

L🍑

Yes! Absolutely, they would take this chance to get closer to you!!!

Bruce is your dad, therefore you must refer to him as such. He really doesn’t care in which language, as he either speaks it or will speak it soon, so go right ahead and speak your native language.

While the Batfam speaks English fluently, they will not force you to learn it. In fact, they’d rather force themselves to learn YOUR language (…if they don’t speak it already, that is)

However, if he heard you admit that you only call him dad in English, because it feels less personal, he would be stumped. I mean, he can’t just force you to switch your language, what would that change? Though he would certainly find ways to ensure you truly think of him as your father, he just needs to figure out how…

Also, swearing is strictly forbiden according to Bruce and Dick. You’re their little angel, the light of their lives, so you will NOT be heard using such profanities, no matter which language you speak.

Jason doesn’t give enough fucks to snitch, but if you went overboard, he would tell you to watch it.

Tim is the biggest snitch ever. Do not break ANY rules in his proximity, you will regret it.

Damian, like Bruce and Dick, prefers it when you use polite and gentle language. You’re like a blossom, blooming in the sunlight, such disgusting and vile words should not be coming from you, so watch it.

Duke would kind of freeze if you swore around him. He, ever so loyal to Bruce, cannot let this fly, but…imagining the scolding you’d get makes him feel bad. Besides, you’d never forgive him if he snitched, right? Fine, he’ll endure it, despite how uncomfortable it makes him feel. The things we do for love, huh?

Stephanie is so cool, because she’s rebellious enough to not snitch on you, but also obedient enough to not get into trouble with Bruce (…at least not THAT often). Hence why she not only ignores your swearing, but also swears with you! Not in front of Bruce, though. He would scold you both.

Cassandra has it tough. She obviously doesn’t want to snitch on you or forbid you from speaking your mind, but sometimes, your words, or specifically your use of those words in her proximity, make her feel a bit disrespected. You shouldn’t use such words in the proximity of someone who is older than you, that’s what she was taught.

Barbara is a mix of Dick’s and Steph’s attitude. Most of the time, she doesn’t care, but if your words are directed at anyone from the family, she’s telling Bruce to reprimand you right away.

In short, be careful of what you do and who is nearby when you do it.

Oh and, you have a nickname for someone specific? You won’t hear the end of it (in a positive way…mostly). They won’t leave you alone, they won’t shup up and they won’t stop bragging about how they clearly must be the favourite because their nickname is the more affectionate one, or their nickname is used more often, etc.

Truly a delusional bunch.

[pathetichimbos]

thomas heiwitt x reader but. but beauty and. beast. but he doesnt become ugly

thank you for comjng tk my ted talk

[smolvenger]

Okay, got out my whole thoughts about Thomas Sharpe being abused and trauma dumped and boy howdy, do I need some levity :'')

I got a new idea featuring our Big Tiddy Goth Boyfriend/husband/meow meow!

Reader's sister is engaged to marry Thomas Sharpe so that their family can join a baronacy and he can enjoy some of their money. But Reader's sister is a Spirited Young Lady (tm) who doesn't want to! So the sister runs away and ruins everything! But the family needs the marriage to happen...so Reader agrees to take her sister's place. She and Thomas enter an arranged marriage.

But they genuinely start to fall for each other. Oh no!!! ;)

Would y'all like that?

[geeky-politics-46]

The inexplicable urge to write a Tommy Shelby story and title it "Save A Horse, Ride A Gangster" is strong.

Also, forget Red Right Hand. The theme song in my head is Pony by Ginuwine. I don't know why my brain has latched onto the horse riding thing so much with him.

It's also troubling to me that I find Arthur hot. I only slightly blame @call-sign-shark for fueling my fire for Arthur. Like he's a walking neon red flag. May have to try to work those issues out in a story for him too. At the very least, my therapist would be disappointed in me.

[slasherho]

I hate when someone says people who simp for serial killers and make edits of them are weird, and the slasher fuckers come in talking about “I can’t help itt” “what about fictional ones? :(“ LMDAOAOAOAO stfu omg

[macabrelinguine]

I’m here bc I keep coming back to ur blog bc it’s so good and I can’t get enough. Could you write how the four main marble hornets boys would react to finding out their partner has been stalking them . Like I imagine it’s bc of the operator:) thank you

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH. You guys are so niceeee

Tim - Absolutely the fuck not. He is NOT about this. He is tired, scared, and he doesn’t need another point of stress. He’ll probably just ask you to stop at first, and if you continue he’ll have a dilemma. He loves you, obviously. He doesn’t want you to be scared of him. But if you don’t stop then that’s another problem. He’ll end up bringing you to therapy, probably, or at least trying to get you some help. He knows this isn’t on purpose, and he strives to find peaceful solutions.

Jay - My guy will just straight up start crying. Not sobbing, but quiet, barely noticeable tears will fall down his face. He trusted you! He isn’t mad or anything he’s just scared. He doesn’t trust you anymore, which makes him even more sad. He couldn’t believe you’d do something like this. Maybe it’s not the best decision, and he’s definitely going to regret it later, but he cuts you off. If you can’t stop, he’ll just call the police. While giant monsters aren’t going to find their way into a police report, stalking is.

Brian - He’s more mellow about it. You’re stalking him? Cool! Stop it right now. He doesn’t support this at all, but he’s too tired to deal with this. “Just, like…stop” He won’t do anything too drastic, at the very most he’ll yell at you about it. That’s probably not going to happen, because he doesn’t like yelling, but if you keep stalking him after that he’s probably going to cut you off. If you apologize and promise not to do it again he’ll take you back.

Alex - Yeah lol same. He’s stalking you right back, that’s probably how he even found out you were stalking him in the first place. He won’t tell you what he’s doing, but he will in some way let you know he’s caught you. He doesn’t care if you stop, it’s just a little bit annoying. He’s trying to stalk you. He had the idea first. You’re being really unoriginal here. He might scare you a bit with threats of going to the police, but in the end he won’t do it. He doesn’t care what you do as long as he can keep track of you doing it.

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Hell on Wheels

Robert Fischer x F! Street Racer

Summary: Robert’s friend decided he needed a little more thrill in his life. He invited him to a street race where he met her.

Wordcount: 6.1k

Warnings:

Guns, cursing, running from the law.

Inspiration: Hot — Smash Mouth!

No, I have no clue why the top of my pictures are weird looking.

Robert Fischer had always been a man of routine and structure, his life meticulously planned down to the finest detail. Yet, tonight was different. His friend, sensing Robert's growing ennui, decided to inject a dose of excitement into his otherwise predictable existence. The suggestion? A night at an underground street race, a stark contrast to the polished boardrooms and elegant soirées Robert was accustomed to.

At first, Robert balked at the idea. The very notion of attending such an event seemed frivolous and beneath him. His friend, however, knew exactly how to pique his interest.

"There's this woman," he said, eyes gleaming with mischief, "She's at the very top of this empire. She runs the show, and trust me, you have to see her in action."

Intrigued by the prospect of a woman leading such a dangerous and male-dominated world, Robert felt a spark of curiosity. He had always admired strength and intelligence, and the thought of witnessing a woman at the helm of such chaos was too compelling to ignore. Despite his initial reluctance, he agreed to go, albeit on his own terms. There was no way he would don the casual, rebellious attire his friend sported. Robert Fischer would attend this event in his suit, a symbol of his identity and a subtle assertion of his place in the world.

As they arrived at the clandestine location, the night air buzzed with anticipation. The roar of engines and the smell of burning rubber filled the air, a stark contrast to the sterile, controlled environments Robert was used to. He felt out of place yet strangely exhilarated. The cars lined up, gleaming under the makeshift lights, each one a testament to power and speed.

But then the gathering was now a hushed an ocean of murmurs and hushed conversations, a sea of humanity eagerly awaiting the start of the evening's event. Robert stood on the outskirts, his eyes scanning the crowd with a mix of curiosity and detachment. He could feel the anticipation hanging in the air, thick and palpable. But then, an unfamiliar sound cut through the chatter, causing a ripple of silence to sweep across the crowd. The distinctive rumble of an engine echoed in the distance, drawing every ear toward it.

The silence was soon replaced by a smattering of cheers and gasps of awe. Robert’s gaze followed the source of the commotion, his curiosity piqued. His friend, sensing his hesitation, grabbed his hand with a firm grip and pulled him forward. The crowd parted before them with an almost reverent precision, like the biblical scene of Moses parting the Red Sea. Robert felt a mix of excitement and trepidation as he was led to the front, his heart pounding in rhythm with his quickening steps.

And then he saw her. She stood out even among the throngs of people, her presence commanding attention with an effortless grace. Her long, dark hair cascaded in curls, framing a face adorned with simple yet striking piercings. Her ears were similarly decorated, a testament to her individual style. Tattoos snaked down her arms, a full sleeve on her left and smaller, intricate designs on her right. She was tall, statuesque, easily standing at 6'1", her height adding to her imposing yet captivating presence.

Robert's breath caught in his throat. The world seemed to narrow to just the two of them, the crowd fading into an indistinct blur. He was transfixed, his mind racing to process the sheer intensity of her appearance. There was a raw, unfiltered beauty about her, something that defied conventional standards. She was not merely attractive; she was a force of nature, an embodiment of confidence and individuality that was both intimidating and alluring.

As she moved through the crowd, it was as if she had her own gravitational pull, drawing eyes and attention effortlessly. Robert felt an inexplicable connection, a magnetic attraction that compelled him to step closer. He could sense the electricity in the air, the subtle shifts in the crowd's mood as she passed by. It was a rare moment, one where the mundane was eclipsed by the extraordinary, and Robert found himself caught in the thrall of it.

His friend, ever the observant one, nudged him gently. "She's something, isn't she?" the friend whispered, a note of admiration in his voice. Robert could only nod, words failing him. He watched as she smiled at those around her, a genuine, disarming smile that contrasted sharply with her edgy appearance. It was a smile that hinted at stories untold, at depths of character hidden beneath the surface.

As she approached him, Robert felt a rush of nervous anticipation. She met his gaze, her eyes holding a mixture of curiosity and amusement. For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

“You’re a bit over dressed for this little ol’ race I got going on here, don’t yah think?”

Robert looked her up and down after she commented that he was overdressed for such a simple activity. But it wasn’t a simple occasion; street racing could be life or death, but she always walked the line of death. She tangoed with the devil. But eventually she left him alone with his friend to go watch the rest of the races.

Race after race unfolded, the crowd growing more frenzied with each passing moment. Robert watched with a mixture of fascination and detachment, his mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. Finally, the moment everyone had been waiting for arrived. The big finale. The woman his friend had spoken of stepped forward, her presence commanding the attention of all around her. She knew Robert was watching and yet he still was all tight..nothing was loose about him.

She was everything his friend had described and more. Confident, composed, and radiating an aura of authority, she walked toward her car with the grace of a queen. Robert couldn't take his eyes off her. She exuded power, not just from the control she wielded over the event, but from the respect and fear she commanded from those around her.

She spoke in a low and sultry voice, making him lock eyes with her. He had to look up quite a lot. “How about you join me, eh? You look too tight, loosen up a bit.”

Robert glanced at his friend, who returned a look that basically said if he didn’t take this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, he would. So Robert agreed. She smiled heartily and outstretched her hand, offering it.

“Come on, princess~”

The night air was thick with anticipation and the scent of gasoline, the streetlights casting an otherworldly glow over the scene. Robert's pulse quickened as he followed her to the sleek, midnight-black ZL1 Camaro. The car was a masterpiece of modern engineering, its aggressive stance and aerodynamic lines evoking a predatory grace. It seemed to pulse with latent power, a beast waiting to be unleashed. As he approached the Camaro, he could hear the low growl of its supercharged 6.2-liter V8 engine, a sound that promised both speed and raw, unadulterated power. The hood bore the iconic "ZL1" badge, a mark of its supremacy among muscle cars. Every detail of the vehicle, from its sculpted front fascia to its quad exhaust outlets, spoke of its capability to dominate the asphalt.

She opened the driver's side door with a fluid motion, the interior lights casting a soft glow on the Recaro performance seats, which hugged the body like a second skin. The dashboard was a blend of advanced technology and classic muscle car aesthetics, with a heads-up display that projected critical information onto the windshield. As Robert settled into the passenger seat, he marveled at the meticulous craftsmanship and the tactile pleasure of the suede-wrapped steering wheel and shifter.

"Ready to see what this baby can do?" she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Robert nodded, feeling a mixture of trepidation and excitement. The engine roared to life with a guttural growl that sent vibrations through his entire body. She revved the engine a few times, the Camaro responding with a throaty roar that echoed off the surrounding buildings, a symphony of power and aggression. The street was lined with spectators, their faces lit by the eerie glow of neon lights and the flicker of smartphone screens. The air crackled with tension as the racers lined up, engines revving in a cacophony of mechanical fury. She positioned the Camaro at the starting line, the rear tires squealing as they found purchase on the asphalt.

"Hold on tight," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the thunderous growl of the engine.

The signal was given, and she floored the accelerator. The Camaro leapt forward with a ferocity that pinned Robert to his seat, the supercharger's whine rising to a banshee wail as the tires screamed in protest. The acceleration was brutal, a surge of raw power that blurred the world around them into a streak of lights and shadows. Robert's heart raced as they barreled down the narrow streets, the Camaro's suspension soaking up the undulations with precision. She shifted gears with expert timing, each shift accompanied by a visceral jolt of speed. The exhaust note was a symphony of pops and crackles, a testament to the Camaro's high-performance tuning.

As they approached a sharp corner, she deftly executed a controlled drift, the rear tires breaking loose in a controlled slide that sent the car skimming around the bend. The g-forces pressed Robert against the side of his seat, but she handled the car with an almost supernatural ease, her movements fluid and instinctive. The finish line loomed ahead, a strip of asphalt bathed in the glow of headlights and the flicker of flames from makeshift torches. She glanced at Robert, a triumphant smile playing on her lips, and then pushed the Camaro to its limits. The car responded with a final surge of power, crossing the finish line with a roar that reverberated through the night.

As they slowed to a stop, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, Robert realized he had been holding his breath. She turned to him, her eyes alight with victory and exhilaration.

"Now that," she said, her voice a husky whisper, "is how you loosen up."

Robert couldn't help but smile, his previous reservations melting away in the wake of the night's thrill. He had tasted a world far removed from his carefully controlled existence, a world where danger and excitement intertwined, and he found himself craving more. For the first time in a long while, Robert felt truly alive. The night stretched on, filled with the sounds of cheering, the scent of gasoline, and the indelible image of a woman who had shattered his expectations and stirred something deep within him.

Robert had always considered himself a man of composure, unruffled by the chaos of life. But tonight, at the underground street race, he was faced with a different kind of disorder. The races had been exhilarating, a whirlwind of speed and skill, but now he found himself amidst a confrontation that tested his patience and beliefs. As the final race concluded, it became evident that sore losers were a common breed in this world. Robert watched with a mix of disbelief and annoyance as a particularly vocal racer, his face twisted with rage, hurled accusations at the reigning champion—a woman who had dominated the track with unparalleled prowess.

"It's fucking bullshit! She wins every single damn time! It's rigged, I tell ya!" the man bellowed, his voice dripping with misogyny and frustration.

Robert observed the woman at the center of the storm. She chuckled, a sound laced with amusement and disdain. She knew what this was—a pathetic attempt to undermine her success because she had dared to excel in a domain where men thought they reigned supreme.

With a confident smile, she cracked her knuckles, the gesture a clear signal of her readiness to handle whatever came her way. "If you think it’s rigged," she spoke up, her voice carrying a calm authority, "then why do you even bother with the races?"

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "You’re a fuckin’ punk," she said, pausing to let the words sink in. She scanned the crowd, her gaze sharp and unyielding. "So where the fuck you at, punk?!"

“It’s all about the he-say, she-says bullshit”. She said.

But as he stood amidst the chaos of the street race, watching the woman pull a Smith & Wesson Model SW1911 from her waist pocket, he felt a chill run down his spine. She moved with a fluidity that spoke of experience, her every action calculated and deliberate. Without a moment's hesitation, she aimed the gun at the man who had been taunting her, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade. "I think you better quit, letting shit slip," she commanded, her tone cold and unwavering.

Robert watched in stunned silence as she fired, the shots shattering the racer's driver and passenger windows with a deafening crash. The air was thick with tension, the crowd holding its collective breath as the dust and shards of glass settled. She turned to face the gathered throng, her eyes blazing with fury and defiance. "Your best bet is to stay away, motherfuckers," she declared, her voice echoing with authority. Her presence was magnetic, a force that demanded respect and fear in equal measure.

Robert's heart raced as he took in the scene, his mind grappling with the reality of what he had just witnessed. The woman, this formidable figure who had captivated his interest, had just demonstrated a level of ruthlessness he hadn't anticipated. Yet, despite the violence, there was an undeniable allure to her power and confidence. As she paused, her breath coming in heavy bursts, she issued her final challenge. "Anyone... next in line to get fucked up!?" Her voice, though strained, carried an edge of deadly seriousness.

Robert knew he was witnessing something extraordinary. He could see the fear in the eyes of those around him, the way they recoiled from her wrath. But there was also a grudging admiration, a recognition of her dominance in this world of speed and danger. He found himself stepping forward, not out of bravery, but out of a deep-seated need to understand the enigma before him. His eyes locked with hers, and he saw not just the rage, but a flicker of something deeper—pain, perhaps, or a history of battles fought and won.

"Miss," he began, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him, "I think we all understand your message. But tell me, what drives someone like you to take such risks?"

She regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and caution, her grip on the gun unwavering. "Maybe it's the same thing that brought you here, in a suit," she replied, her voice softening just a fraction. "A thirst for something real, something that makes you feel alive."

The woman in front of him, having just holstered her gun, was breathing heavily, a mixture of adrenaline and irritation evident in her eyes. Robert's offhand comment, meant to defuse the tension, had clearly missed the mark.

"How 'bout you... I don’t know... back the fuck up and shut the fuck up, pretty boy?" she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm and frustration

For a moment, Robert was taken aback, his eyebrows rising in surprise. He wasn't accustomed to being spoken to in such a manner, especially by someone who seemed so ready to challenge him. The initial shock quickly gave way to his characteristic stubbornness. But tonight, as he stood amidst the chaos of the underground street race, he found himself momentarily at a loss for words. The woman who had captivated his attention with her commanding presence and undeniable allure was now standing before him, her eyes locked onto his with a mix of curiosity and challenge.

Her words were a direct challenge, laced with both amusement and a hint of provocation. Robert felt a flush of embarrassment and irritation rise within him. He wasn't accustomed to being put on the spot, especially not in such a blunt manner. But there was something about her—the confidence, the audacity—that made him want to rise to the occasion.

Taking a deep breath, he straightened his posture and met her gaze with a steady, unwavering look. "I assure you," he began, his voice calm and measured, "I have spoken to many women. But I must admit, none quite like you."

Her smirk widened into a genuine smile, and she took a step closer, her eyes never leaving his. "Well, that's a start," she said, her tone softening slightly. "But if you want to keep up, you're going to have to do better than that."

Robert felt a spark of determination ignite within him. This was a game, a dance of wits and words, and he was not one to back down. "I'm a quick learner," he replied, allowing a small smile to tug at the corners of his lips. "Perhaps you can teach me a thing or two." Her laughter was warm and genuine, a sound that cut through the noise of the racing cars and the crowd. "I like you," she said, a hint of admiration in her voice. "You've got potential. Just don't let that suit of yours hold you back."

As the woman smiled and asked for his hand, Robert felt a wave of reluctance wash over him. He extended his hand tentatively, unsure of what was to come. She took his hand in hers with a soft, gentle motion, her touch surprisingly warm against his skin. Robert watched intently as she searched through her back pockets, then her front pockets, a look of mild frustration crossing her features when she couldn't find what she was looking for.

With a quick glance around, she called out, "Aye! Who's got a pen?!" Her voice cut through the chatter of the crowd, drawing the attention of those nearby. Robert noticed a spark of excitement in some of the men's eyes, their interest piqued by her request.

The hunt for a pen began in earnest, everyone in the vicinity now on the lookout for the elusive writing instrument. After a few moments, a middle-aged man triumphantly produced a pen, holding it out to her. She caught it swiftly, her movements fluid and confident. With a deft motion, she removed the cap with her teeth, a gesture that sent a thrill down Robert's spine despite himself. With the cap now in her mouth, she proceeded to write her phone number on Robert's hand, her touch sending a tingling sensation through him. He watched as she handed his hand back to him, the ink still wet on his skin. She then took the pen cap out of her mouth, wiping it off before signing her name on it. The sight was oddly intimate, and Robert couldn't help but feel a surge of attraction towards this enigmatic woman.

She tossed the pen cap back to the man who had provided it, a casual yet somehow alluring gesture. Robert's mind raced with possibilities, his imagination running wild with thoughts of what could come next. He knew he should be wary, that this woman could be trouble, but he found himself unable to resist her charm.

The street race had been an unexpected revelation for Robert Fischer, a night of raw energy and untamed excitement that stood in stark contrast to the meticulously controlled world he inhabited. As the final race concluded, the woman who had dominated the main event from the middle of the night stood victorious, her presence an intoxicating blend of power and allure. Robert watched her, transfixed, as she moved through the throng of admirers, her confidence unshaken by the chaos around her.

The crowd started to disappear and leave since it was a Sunday and people had work tomorrow. Her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. She was unlike anyone he had ever met—an enigma wrapped in leather and defiance. He felt a pull, an almost gravitational force drawing him toward her, his carefully constructed facade beginning to crack under her unwavering gaze.

"Come on, pretty boy," she said, her voice a sultry challenge that brooked no argument. "Let me take you back to your home."

Robert blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her boldness. He was used to being the one in control, the one who called the shots, but this woman seemed to operate by her own set of rules. Her proposition was as disarming as it was enticing, and he found himself at a loss for words.

"I—" he began, but she silenced him with a knowing smile, one that suggested she already knew what he was going to say.

"Don't overthink it," she advised, her tone a mix of amusement and authority. "Just follow me."

Without waiting for his response, she turned and began to weave her way through the crowd, her movements fluid and assured. Robert hesitated for only a moment before following, his curiosity and intrigue outweighing his reservations. He could hear the murmurs of the crowd as they passed, whispers of surprise and envy that seemed to follow them like shadows.

As they reached the edge of the makeshift racecourse, she led him to a her sleek, black car that seemed to radiate power and elegance. After her races she parks it back here. She opened the passenger door for him with a flourish, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. "Get in," she commanded, and he obeyed without question, the door closing behind him with a decisive click.

She slid into the driver's seat, the engine purring to life under her expert touch. The car accelerated smoothly, the city lights blurring into streaks of color as they sped away from the chaos of the race. Robert found himself captivated by her presence, his usual guarded demeanor slipping away in the face of her undeniable magnetism.

"What's your name?" he asked, his voice sounding uncharacteristically tentative.

She glanced at him, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Does it matter?" she countered, her tone teasing yet enigmatic. "Names are just labels, after all."

He frowned, unsure how to respond. "It matters to me," he insisted, his curiosity piqued by her evasiveness.

She sighed, as if indulging a child's question. "You can call me _______," she said finally, her eyes returning to the road ahead. "But don't get too attached. This isn't a fairy tale."

Robert studied her profile, trying to discern the layers of mystery that surrounded her. "And what exactly is this, then?" he asked, a hint of challenge in his voice.

She laughed softly, the sound both bitter and amused. "This is reality, Robert," she said, emphasizing his name as if to remind him of his place. "It's messy and unpredictable, and it doesn't always follow the rules."

He felt a shiver of unease at her words, the truth of them hitting closer to home than he cared to admit. His life had been anything but simple, and yet, here he was, venturing into unknown territory with a woman who defied all logic and reason. As they drove, the conversation between them ebbed and flowed, each exchange revealing glimpses of the person behind the enigma. Elena was sharp, her wit as quick as her reflexes behind the wheel. She spoke of the thrill of the race, the adrenaline that coursed through her veins with every victory, and the unspoken rules that governed her world.

Robert listened, captivated by her stories, his own life seeming pale in comparison. He found himself opening up in ways he hadn't anticipated, sharing snippets of his own experiences and the burdens that came with his name. She listened with a patience that belied her earlier aloofness, her eyes never leaving the road.

"You carry a lot on your shoulders," she observed, her voice softening slightly. "It's a wonder you haven't broken under the weight."

He shrugged, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "I've come close," he admitted, the admission feeling strangely liberating.

She reached out, her hand resting lightly on his arm. The touch was brief, almost hesitant, but it sent a jolt of warmth through him. "You're stronger than you think," she said simply, her eyes meeting his for a moment before returning to the road. They drove in companionable silence for a while, the cityscape giving way to quieter streets and darker corners. Robert found himself lulled by the rhythm of the car and the steady hum of the engine. It was a strange sensation, this mix of excitement and calm, a paradox that mirrored his feelings toward her.

Eventually, they arrived at a secluded townhouse, its façade unassuming yet elegant. She parked the car with a practiced ease and turned to him, her expression unreadable. Robert spoke, "This is my stop," he said, his tone carrying a finality that hinted at an imminent departure.

Robert felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of their encounter coming to an end. "Thank you for the ride," he said, unsure of what else to say.

Her smile was both knowing and enigmatic. "The night's not over yet, pretty boy," she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Care to join me for a drink?"

He hesitated, the rational part of his mind warning him of the risks, but the allure of her company proved too strong to resist. "Why not," he agreed, a smile tugging at his lips.

Robert meticulously ordered world was abruptly disrupted by the thunderous roar of a ZL1 Camaro peeling out of his driveway. The car's powerful engine shattered the late night tranquility, leaving a cacophony of barking dogs and waking neighbors up leaving them extremely irritated. He barely had time to register the blur of motion before the car came to its full speed. The driver, a woman who exuded both danger and allure, turned to face him with a smirk.

"It's a good look, pretty boy," she teased, her eyes glinting with a wild energy. "Calm down, baby, just live a little."

Before Robert could protest, she floored the accelerator, sending the car hurtling down the street. The force of the acceleration pressed him back into his seat, his heart pounding in his chest. He had always prided himself on maintaining control, but this situation was quickly spiraling beyond his grasp. The cityscape blurred past them as she maneuvered through traffic with reckless abandon, the Camaro roaring like a beast unleashed. They darted across the interstate and onto the highway, the city's lights reflecting off the car's sleek black paint. Robert's knuckles whitened as he gripped the door handle, his mind racing to catch up with the reality of the situation. He glanced at her, a mixture of fear and fascination in his eyes. Who was this woman who drove with such reckless confidence, and why had he allowed himself to be dragged into this?

After what felt like an eternity, she pulled into the parking lot of a rundown bar on the outskirts of town. The neon sign flickered weakly, casting a ghostly glow over the scene. She parked with precise ease, the Camaro's engine rumbling as it settled into a low idle. Turning to Robert, she gave him a devilish grin.

"Stay inside," she commanded, locking the doors with a swift motion. "I'll be right back."

Before he could argue, she had disappeared into the bar, leaving him trapped in the car. Robert's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the night's events. The woman was a force of nature, and he was caught in her whirlwind. Minutes later, she returned, carrying a massive bottle of Jack Daniel's whiskey. She unlocked the door and slid back into the driver's seat, her presence commanding his attention.

"Calm down," she said, noticing the fear in his eyes. "I dance with the devil in racing, but I'm not about drinking and driving, honey."

With a practiced ease, she tossed the bottle into the back seat, catching it just before it could shatter against the leather. The engine roared back to life as she revved it, the vibrations coursing through the car like a heartbeat. She sped out of the parking lot, weaving in and out of traffic with a deftness that left Robert breathless. Each near-miss sent a jolt of adrenaline through his veins, the line between fear and exhilaration blurring with every turn.

Suddenly, the piercing wail of police sirens shattered the night, jolting Robert from his reverie. Panic flared in his chest as he looked around, trying to discern the source of the flashing lights that now bathed their surroundings in an eerie, flickering glow. It was as if the police had materialized from the shadows, waiting in the darkness to spring their trap. The radio crackled to life, the authoritative voice of the officer commanding them to pull over.

His heart raced, a primal fear gripping him. He glanced at her, expecting to see a trace of concern, but her expression remained calm, almost amused. "Watch this," she said, her voice steady and confident. With a quick, decisive motion, she pressed a button on the console. The transformation was instantaneous. The sleek, vibrant car seemed to absorb the very darkness of the night, its color shifting to an impenetrable black, rendering it nearly invisible in the low light. She shot him a quick glance, a sly smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I just covered my license plate," she explained, her tone casual, as if this were just another part of her nightly routine. Robert could hardly believe what he was seeing. The ingenuity and audacity of it all left him momentarily speechless.

The engine roared to life once more, its growl a defiant challenge to the pursuing police car. With a swift movement, she floored the accelerator, and the car surged forward, propelled by raw power and her unyielding determination. Robert was pressed back into his seat, the force of the acceleration stealing his breath. The scenery blurred around them, the city lights melding into streaks of color as they raced through the urban labyrinth. He risked a glance behind them, the police car a distant speck in the rearview mirror, its sirens growing fainter by the second. She maneuvered through the streets with a precision that spoke of years of experience, each turn and swerve executed flawlessly. Robert marveled at her skill, his fear gradually giving way to a grudging admiration.

"You're not going to catch her," he thought, a mixture of relief and awe flooding his mind. The distance between them and the pursuing officer grew with each passing moment. The police car, unable to match their speed and agility, fell further behind until, at last, it disappeared from sight entirely. Robert exhaled a shaky breath, his pulse still pounding in his ears. "You're incredible," he said, his voice tinged with genuine awe. She cast him a sidelong glance, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and pride. "It's not my first rodeo," she replied, her tone light, almost teasing.

They sped through the night, the city gradually giving way to open roads. The tension that had gripped Robert began to ebb, replaced by a sense of exhilaration. He was acutely aware of the woman beside him, her presence a magnetic force that drew him in, compelling him to stay by her side despite the danger. As the adrenaline rush began to subside, Robert found himself reflecting on the night's events. He had come here seeking a thrill, a break from the monotony of his structured life. What he had found was something far more profound—a glimpse into a world of daring and defiance, embodied by this remarkable woman.

They drove in silence for a while, the engine's purr a soothing backdrop to his swirling thoughts. Eventually, curiosity got the better of him. "How did you get into this?" he asked, genuinely intrigued. She glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "It's a long story," she said, her voice softening. "Maybe I'll tell you someday."

He nodded, sensing that there was much more to her than met the eye. The depth of her character, the strength and resilience that had carried her to the top of this perilous world, fascinated him. He wanted to know more, to understand the layers beneath her confident exterior.

They navigated through the city's labyrinthine streets, her driving a dance of precision and chaos. The Camaro moved like a predator, sleek and powerful, its engine growling with every acceleration. Robert's fear gradually gave way to a strange sense of liberation. In this moment, he was free from the constraints of his carefully curated life, thrust into a world where the only certainty was the next heartbeat. Eventually, they arrived at an abandoned parking garage, its concrete structure looming like a forgotten monolith. She drove up to the top floor, the car's tires screeching as they navigated the tight turns. The city stretched out below them, a sea of lights and shadows. She parked with the same precision as before, turning off the engine and leaving a ringing silence in its wake.

"Get out," she ordered, her voice carrying a tone that brooked no argument. She leaned back in the back passenger seats, and grab the bottle of whiskey she got earlier.

Robert obeyed, stepping out into the cool night air. He turned to face her, his mind still reeling from the night's events. She leaned against the car, her eyes locked onto his with an intensity that left him breathless. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence thick with unspoken words.

"Why did you bring me here?" he finally asked, his voice a whisper in the vast emptiness of the garage.

She smiled, a slow, enigmatic smile that sent a shiver down his spine. "To show you what it means to live," she replied. "To break free from the chains that bind you and taste the freedom of the unknown." She opened the bottle of whiskey and took a swig then offered him the bottle.

Her words resonated with him, striking a chord deep within his soul. He had spent his life in pursuit of control, of order, yet here he was, standing on the precipice of chaos, and it felt... liberating. The woman stepped closer, her presence a tangible force. She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead with a tenderness that belied her wild nature.

"You've been living in a cage, Robert," she said softly. "It's time to break free."

He stared into her eyes, seeing the depth of her conviction. For the first time in a long while, he felt a flicker of something he had thought long extinguished: hope. Hope for a life beyond the constraints of his own making, a life filled with the thrill of the unknown. He smiled a grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took a swig then handed it back to her.

“To unexpected adventures," she toasted with the whiskey bottle, her eyes meeting with his.

"To new experiences," he countered.

They drank in silence for a moment, the warmth of the whiskey spreading through him. Robert felt a sense of contentment, a rare feeling in his tumultuous life. He realized that, for the first time in a long while, he was genuinely enjoying himself. As the night wore on, their conversation deepened, touching on topics both profound and trivial. She was a paradox, her demeanor shifting between playful and serious with a fluidity that kept him on his toes. He found himself drawn to her unpredictability, the way she navigated life with a blend of grace and defiance.

Their connection was undeniable, a magnetic pull that seemed to defy logic. Robert felt a strange sense of kinship with her, a bond forged in the shared understanding of living on the edge of societal norms. He knew that their time together was fleeting, a brief interlude in the chaos of their lives, but he was determined to make the most of it.

Robert nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment at the thought of their encounter coming to an end. "Thank you for tonight," he said, his gratitude genuine.

She smiled, a soft, almost wistful expression. "No, thank you," she replied. "For stepping out of your comfort zone."

He chuckled, the sound both amused and rueful. "I think I needed it more than I realized," he admitted.

Author’s Notes:

Y’all I need to focus on the the ideas I already have down on paper, there’s like 17 drafts in here and haft or already done..fuck me right my big brain man.. Anyways forgive me if anyone is a street racing connoisseur…also I shall make a fucking bougie ass car be hers because she wins a lot of bets because half the men in this group are misogynistic assholes! And I don’t care to look at the rules of street racing because it’s illegal either way, but yeah. An also even bigger and is the reason why I know so much about this car is because a new neighbor just moved in next to us and he has this and I talk to him for about like five hours just cause I was curious. And another also also, there’s 7 Limp Bizkit lyrics in here lol!Love yah! Toodles!

Credit for the little sparkle smol divider: strangergraphics-archive

[carmensbrain]

🌟seize the sol, as they say!🌟

Carmen/Carma 🎀 (she/her)

REQUESTS: OPEN!!

Heya! I’m new to writing on tumblr so here’s my little intro!! ♡

Will write! ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

-fluff

-angst

-scenarios/head cannons!!

-fem x masc

-fem x fem

- X fem! readers!!! ^O^

Wont write ( •᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ )

-nsfw!! I can do drabbles but nothing that explicit sorry!

-yandere/dark/dead🕊️ I can’t write anything like that for my own mental health and I don’t want to engage with it :[

-Masc x Masc as a woman I don’t think I should be writing for mlm as I don’t know how male attraction feels and I wouldn’t be able to accurately portray it sorry :(

- X masc! Reader I can’t write male readers, idk how y’all’s brains work and I don’t wanna

Fandoms/characters below cut!!

✧= priority

꩜= last pick

Overwatch

-Cole Cassidy ✧

-Gabriel Reyes/Reaper ✧

-Hanzo Shimada

-Genji Shimada

-Hana Song/D.Va

-Lúcio Correia dos santos

ARCANE (NEW)

-Jayce Talis ✧

-Ekko

-Mel Madarda

Call of duty: modern warfare

-Philip Graves

-Simon “ghost” Riley ꩜

-Kim “Horangi” hong-Jin

-Kyle “gaz” Garrick

The spiderverse (new!)

-Miles Morales (earth 1610)

-Miles Morales (earth 42)

-Gwen Stacy

-Spider-Man Noir

(I will not write for Miguel sorry!)

Creepypasta/Marble hornets ꩜

-Tobias Rodgers/ticci Toby

-Natalie Ouellette/Clockwork

-Jane Richardson/Jane the killer

-Brian Thomas/hoodie

-Tim wright/masky

-Alex Kralie

Detroit become human

-Connor

-nines

-Gavin reed (if you ask nicely..)

-Kara

-Marcus

Misc

-Simon Henricksson (cry of fear)

-Dirk/Dave Strider (Homestuck)

-Hawks (my hero academia)

-Captain Curly (mouthwashing) [pre crash only]

-Leon S Kennedy (Resident evil 4)

More coming soon…

[cherubfae]

𝔧𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶, 𝔧𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 || {𝔳𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔰𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔰}

With Michael, Brahms, Jason, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Sawyer, Sal Fisher, & Patrick Bateman

tags: gn!reader, jealousy, creepy men, unwanted attention/touching, uggestive and mature themes, gore/blood, violence, canon typical behavior, billy x reader x stu poly, rob zombie!mikey, I know Sal isn't exactly a slasher but he's my baby and needs to be included

Michael

Rest in Peace to the poor, stupid man who thought it'd be a good idea to mess with the Shape's partner, and Michael had witnessed it all. How this man shoves you into an empty alleyway, the clatter of your groceries falling. The guy doesn't get much more than a few bruises and claw marks when Michael's knife slices through the back of the man's throat, protruding from the other end in a splash of blood. The Shape watches you wipe your bloody face off, not doing much but picking up three of your four fallen bags and tugging you into his side.

Brahms

Absolutely not. Brahms is fuckin' seething from his safe space sheltered behind the walls. Heavy breathing muffled by the porcelain mask, he watches with wild eyes as some idiot decides to break into the mansion whilst you were sleeping, and proceeds to hold you at knifepoint, effectively pinning you to the bed in what little nightclothes you wore. The unwanted guest and you are certainly going to know when Brahms is upset. There's banging on the walls coming from every direction that leaves the would-be burglar panicked and you slightly more comfortable.

"You're not allowed to be here," comes the eerily childlike voice Brahms has perfected. He crawls his way out from behind the large antique mirror. "I'll make sure you never come near them again." With a sudden slam, Brahms downs the intruder with a lead pipe repeatedly bashing the object until all that remains was brain matter and gooey blood. He drops the pipe with a huff and collects you into his arms, the cool porcelain biting onto the heat of your chest.

Jason

As the protector of the surrounding forest, Jason is always watching. He's omnipotent, he sees all. He seems to know where people are at all times and he can sense when you're in distress. Your shared cabin door left ajar sends his blood boiling and his heavy footfall increasing as he approaches your home. Barging in, Jason's pale eyes lock onto you and your assailant holding you by the throat. His thunderous steps are quick, slicing through the man with his machete and proceeds to lift him up while still pierced with the blade. The man gurgles, arms weakly reaching behind him in attempts to claw at Jason. All attempts were futile. He tossed the body to the side before he gently frets over you, his large hands soothing the fingerprints tarnishing your throat.

Billy & Stu

Rather snake-like the two will wrap themselves around you (they adore your personal space) and stare down whoever else demands your attention. Billy's arm hooks around your waist and Stu wraps himself around your shoulder, tilting your chin up with a single finger. "Is this guy bothering you, baby?" Looking like a shark that's tasted blood in the water, Billy's eyes grow more wild. He's already making a mental note of who and where this guy lives. The guy raised his hands in defense backing down the more the two stared at him, walking off completely.

"We're gonna take care of him, doll," Billy promises, kissing your cheek. Stu cackles lightly, tongue sticking out. They would strike tonight.

Vincent

There's no one Vincent trusts more to watch over you when he can't than his own two brothers. He had his hands full, turning Dalton and Wade into wax people. Nick and Carly were proving to be hard to get a hold of and there was still another tourist that needed to be taken care of.

But then Bo is telling him that the person escaped and he doesn't know where you were. His two worst fears confirmed. Vincent is soon on a wild hunt, trying to find you anywhere with Bo hot on his heels. He soon locates you, passed out with a bit of blood on your head. Your eyes slowly open as he touches your cheek, catching you as you wobble into his warm embrace. He shares a look with Bo who nods.

"I've got you, brother. Keep them here with ya. Wait til I'm back, ya hear?"

Bo

Out in public, he's all cordial and kind smiles. Especially if this is an intended victim. Some random person putting the moves on his partner is a huge no-no and one Bo doesn't take lightly. That person just warranted themselves a for sure death sentence and Bo isn't feeling too kind, so perhaps he'll drag things out, yeah? Touch what's his and you got what's comin' to ya.

"Can I see, baby? That bastard leave any marks on ya?" Bo strokes your shoulders, blue eyes drifting over your frame like water. He has every intention of marking every place that person touched, no matter if you tell Bo the guy only grabbed your arm. Once he has his mind set on something, he's gonna do it.

Lester

Unlike his older twin brothers, Lester is actually pretty chill. Especially in comparison to Bo. He doesn't think much of the people he's helping get into Ambrose knowing full well it's their final destination and Vincent and Bo will take care of things as they always have. What he doesn't like is some dude making a pass at you right in front of him. Can't he see the engagement ring on your finger? It leaves a sour taste in his mouth, watching with narrowed eyes as the small group heads towards the mechanic shop in search of a fan belt.

A familiar hand on his arm calms him down instantly. He turns to you and musters a weak smile as your hands slide around his torso from behind, leaning your cheek on his shoulder. "Y'alright?" Lester nods too quickly and unconvincingly, giving you a quick kiss. "Yeah, darl', always."

Thomas

Your partner is not unlike a bear, watching with wild eyes as one of Hoyt's new catches clasps onto you, their nails digging into your arms, and pinning you to the barbed fence. The cry of pain you let out has Tommy barreling towards you, chainsaw revving to life. A deep snarl echoes behind his mask and he wastes no time cutting down the poor soul with a single swipe of his motorized saw. Tommy turns it off and picks you up in his large arms as gently as he can. With his masked cheek leaning against yours, he carries you back towards the house. Mama Luda Mae will take a good look at you.

Sal Fisher

Honestly Sal isn't one to get jealous. He's pretty level-headed and understanding in most situations. He respects your choices and he's not gonna step on any toes or do anything drastic; Sal isn't a monster. However, if he sees some guy make a creepy pass at you and clearly overstep your boundaries, he won't hesitate to swoop in, looping his arm around your shoulders. His sharp blue eyes staring at the man from behind his prosthetic mask.

"Do we have a problem here?" His voice is cold, lacking any interest in what excuse the man finds. Sal's main focus will be on you, rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. His main priority is to get you away from this sicko and would totally call in reinforcements from his brother Larry if need be.

Patrick

A jealous Patrick Bateman isn't a good scenario for anyone. Especially not with his deteriorating mental state. He trusts you explicitly, with his thoughts, ideas, and recreational hobbies that most would find distasteful. So when a colleague of his gets too big for his britches and unabashedly begins to flirt with you in his presence, Patrick finds it difficult to keep his boiling bloodlust at bay. The heat of his anger is getting to his head, the fierce emotions only swelling well it's clear how uncomfortable you look in that man's company. He must see to put an end to him quickly.

"Are you alright, my darling? That man surely didn't know his place, did he?" Patrick places a hand at your back, guiding you out of the office party. "Let's get you home and into a nice hot bath, hmm? I'd rather not taste that swine on your lovely skin."

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[jimcornflake]

Slashers X Bimbo!Reader HC

A/N: Many ideas. Brain PULSATING with creativity.

🎀🎀🎀

Michael Myers:

- Your constant idiocy never ceases to amaze Michael. When he came to kill you, you showed him in to your kitchen and showed him where the sink was and told him it was leaking, then complimented him on his “plumbing spidey-senses.”

- Needless to say, he did not kill you. It would be the same as killing a kitten with no legs: pointless and unchallenging.

- Once you found out who he was, you were scared of him at first, trembling in every limb as you asked him if he was going to kill you. He shook his head no and you smiled at him brightly and cheered.

- He loves you for your sugary sweet personality. He may look cold and unaffected but inside he enjoys how you dote on him despite his lack of ability to reciprocate.

- Bodyguard. When he’s not planning his next murder, he’s your personal bodyguard. He shadows you when you go out with friends or at night.

- He’s stiff and rigid and awkward, but he loves your cuddles. He is unable to relax in to it fully, he’ll never be able to relax fully in to anything, but he melts as much as he can in to your arms.

Thomas Hewitt:

- Immediate love at first sight. Thomas hasn’t ever seen a girl like you before. You’re clean and pretty and you’ve definitely never gotten your hands dirty a day in your life. That last part would have to change, but he hoped you would ease in to it.

- You’re kept in the Sawyer house for an obvious ulterior motive that you are purely oblivious to: to be Thomas’ wife. It was Luda’s idea, but every time he brings it up she pretends to be clueless.

- However, you do end up falling in love with Tommy, as planned. How could you not? He’s gentle and sweet and so considerate. He tries his best to keep you away from the violence of the house, but you do encounter some here and there.

- You’re his comfort person. He’s shy with it at first, denying that anything is wrong with him, but you can see right through it. He opens up to you about his face and how he feels about it, and you stop his thoughts in their tracks by giving him a gentle kiss right on his (not) nose.

Bubba Sawyer:

- If there’s anybody that loves a pretty girl, it’s Bubba! He was absolutely captivated by you and when your group first came around, he intentionally left you for last. When Drayton demand he butcher you, Bubba wrapped his arms around you and screeched and blubbered and cried until his brother relented.

- He makes you clothes! It’s mostly patchwork, due to no access to fresh fabrics, but he definitely knows how to make-do with what he’s given. He likes it when you prance around and show it off, clapping like you’re a supermodel.

- Make-up. Oh, make-up. You and Bubba have a ball together taking make-up from victims and giving each-other makeovers. You found a Polaroid on one of the victims that passed through and now it’s tradition to take a picture together after every makeover.

- There is a lot of cuddling going on between the two of you. You love cuddles, he loves cuddles, and you nuzzle in to one another constantly. If you do it in front of Drayton, he’ll gag and pretend to vomit or shoot himself in the head to make his point.

Bo Sinclair:

- At first it’s all about appearance. All Bo sees is how gorgeous you are and how good you look in everything, everywhere, all the time. But because you aren’t exactly capable of taking advantage of him or his emotions, he starts to slowly open up to you. Especially when he sees how you treat his brothers like normal people.

- You know his favorite routine after a long day of chasing people around his sham-town. Get him a beer, sit on his lap, and kiss on his face. The only exception is when you’re baking him something or waiting for him upstairs naked.

- You test his patience. He knows he’s got a temper-problem but he tries his very best with you. All you want to do is help him, after all, and he knows that. Sometimes, he does have to tell you to walk away from him with a flat expression after you’ve asked the dumbest question he’s ever heard in his life.

- Contemplates giving you his Mama’s ring everyday. You’re the only one who understands his complex relationship with her and how it affects him deeply. He doesn’t like discussing it in depth, but every now and then when you find him in the church in front of her casket, he’ll tell you a thing or two. Just because he loves you.

Asa Emory:

- You’re pliant, obedient, and dumb as all fuck. Yes, it’s very easy for Asa to love you. He never has to discipline you because when you do disobey, it’s on accident. A simple correction and you’re on your way.

- You’re very enthusiastic about his bugs, wanting to know all about them even though you can’t understand a single word this man is saying to you. You like to hold them, even though the way they crawl up your arm makes you giggle nervously.

- The dogs love you. You baby them and kiss them behind his back (he definitely knows) and mourn the loss of them deeply.

- His neighbors love you, too! You bake them things and talk to them and are very friendly, much to Asa’s chagrin. Especially since he knows that it’s mostly gross older men trying to lure you in to their home to take advantage of you. He’s very protective and won’t let you deliver your goods without him.

🎀🎀🎀

Hi! Did you like this? If so, please check out my other works! Thank you and have a beautiful day! 🩷

[tac-the-unseen]

how slasher reacts that s/o is rude and hot-tempered with everyone but with him he becomes sweet and kind ?? (pleaseee do Tommy)

Slashers x Rude Reader

Micheal Myers:

•Honestly whatever

•He thinks it's a little funny when you're sassy or bitchy with people

•He chill with almost whatever you do

•Loves feeling like He's the only person in your world (He's toxic like that)

•giving only him your affection sends every happy chemical to his brain

•No matter what your relationship, He wants to be the only one

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

•You give these boys whiplash

•One second you're yelling at somebody, and the next you're giggling and laughing with them

•However watching you blow up at a guy for flirting with you is enough to make them stay

•If you're also a Ghostface, they're putting you on phone duty. They love your sassy one-liners

•They both back you up all the time, whether you're wrong or right

•these boys are real ride or dies (You did watch the movie right?)

Thomas Hewitt:

•Confused

•He has no idea how you can switch up so fast

•He loves how kind you are to him, But watching you be mean to everybody else makes his head spin

•On one hand he loves being around you, and you are truly his best friend. On the other, he doesn't know How you even became friends in the first place at times

•Your smile is enough to remind him though

•But he also knows that your mouth is going to get you in trouble, So he's double protective

Bubba Sawyer:

•Another case of whiplash

•But at least you get to stand up and fit in with his brothers

•they're the rudest people he knows, So at least he knows that you're truly part of the family

•And someone has to tell the cashier he ordered no pickles, And it's not going to be him

•Loves seeing your ‘soft’ side (It makes him feel special and trusted)

Bo Sinclair:

•Loves it

•Couldn’t be more proud

•Watching you snap at travelers is enough to put hearts in his eyes

•He cheers you on while you verbally brawl with others

•Sometimes wishes you're that bitchy with him (But then he remembers all the people you made cry, and prefers not to be on that receiving end)

Vincent Sinclair:

•A little unsettled by the deja vu he gets

•You remind him so much of his brother that it bothers him to a degree

•Then you're so sweet to him and he forgets that feeling for a while

•However he will have a mini crisis by how many rude people are in his life….or were

•Asks you to try and be a little nicer to people, while also giving you permission to have screaming matches with Bo (You leave poor Lester out of it!)

Lester Sinclair:

•He kind of needs someone to stand up for him

•someone has to set his brother's straight, and it sure ain't going to be him

•views you like a guard dog

•He's so grateful for it too

•Tries to repay you by taking you the scenic routes if you tag along with him for work

Billy Lenz:

•Whenever he's fed up he hands you the phone line

•Another slasher that cheers you on

•Scream at the sorority girls all you want, no matter what he'll be behind you with imaginary pom-poms

•And when you turn around and look at him with affection, it makes him melt

•Will be snuggled up to your mid section with you curse a bitch out

•If you literally weren't the only person in his life, you'd be a little concerned that you are his comfort person

Brahms Heelshire:

•as long as you're not rude to him, whatever

•kind of loves it, but will not admit it

•It makes him less prone to jump out and grab people

•Will still snatch a hoe if needed, but he loves to watch you take care of ‘pests’

•Sassing the grocery Boy is a sure way to get Brahms to do whatever you want

•It just makes him feel secure, heard, and understood

Hannibal Lecter:

•Be honest with yourself

•You do not have Will Graham privileges

•You're going in the soup

•om nom nom nom 😋

Will Graham:

•another case of: whatever don't care

•(Not) The rudest couple in town

•You've both mastered the “Bitch Please” Look

•Hannibal tries telling Will that you are bad influence, Will doesn't listen and does not care

•you're as sweetest can be to him and feed his puppies, that is enough for him

The Lost Boys:

•You fit right in

•What other possible qualifications would you need to have to join the residential sassy, vampire, biker, club??

•Watching you curse out a clumsy Tourist makes their day

•David Loves to stand back and watch you ruin a sleazy dudes day

•Dwayne tries to reel you in when you go to far, but will mostly let you do your thing

•Paul and Marko Are your personal cheerleaders through and through! Right or wrong!

•But walking around the boardwalk, terrorizing tourists, spending time together in the cave, and overall spending time with them Really solidifies your place in the gang!

Thanks for Reading!

[genshinluvr]

Smug-a-Saurian(s)

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: After the failed tour of Natlan, you decided to return to Natlan to complete the tour! However, you end up bringing something back to the abode. Was it intentional? No. Do you plan on letting it happen? Sort of, but you knew better.

Note: This is a spin-off mini-fic of The Nation of War fanfic! I was going to write something longer, but due to my impending night shift for work (tomorrow), I was not able to. My brain has been in shambles the entire week due to work preparations and the passing of Liam Payne (my 11-year-old self is incredibly heartbroken and in tears). Idk how my new work schedule is going to impact my updates, but we'll have to wait and see :< Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: I wrote this with a lot going on in my head, so this fic is most definitely ass 🥲

Word Count: 3k

It’s a peaceful day at the abode, and everyone is lounging in the estate, keeping to themselves and occasionally chatting with one another. It’s a quarter to eleven in the morning, and yet the others haven’t seen you at all today. Your bedroom is vacant, and your shoes aren’t on the shoe rack close to the front door, so it’s safe to assume that you’re currently out and about somewhere in Teyvat. Do they know where you’re at? Not really, but they assume it’s Natlan since Mualani and Kachina wanted to hang out with you today. 

“Who gets up that early to hang out with people?” Itto mumbles, waddling into the living room with a dramatic sigh. “I miss my Onikabuto booboo bear!” He pouts, plopping on the couch beside a mildly miffed Scaramouche.

“If I had to deal with you every day, I would leave to hang out with other people at the ass crack of dawn, too,” Scaramouche grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

Itto and Scaramouche glare at one another while Ayato sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Footsteps echo throughout the estate as Gorou walks down the stairs, rubbing the back of his head. The tension once present in the living room evaporates as the men wait for Gorou to speak.

About ten minutes ago— it’s probably less than that— Gorou volunteered to check your room to see if there’s a way to pinpoint when you left the estate. The men have nothing against you leaving the estate and abode whenever you want, but you leaving the abode at an ungodly time is something you would never do (unless you have something really important to do, like having to show up to the Akademiya to prepare for your research presentation).

Thoma stands up, approaching Gorou anxiously. “So? Did you find anything?”

Gorou sighs, propping his hands on his hips. “Their bed is moderately warm, so that means [Y/N] didn’t leave the estate at the crack of dawn. However…” Gorou trails off, stroking his chin. “That makes me wonder how they were able to leave the abode undetected.”

Again, the men aren’t against you leaving the estate and abode alone. You have as much freedom as any other person on Teyvat. What they’re concerned about is your safety— totally not because they’re clingy and want to be around you 24/7! However, they can’t really speak on Zhongli and Neuvillette’s behalf, considering the two men became quite clingy (well, even clingier than usual) after the unsuccessful tour around the Nation of War. 

Paimon sighs, rolling her eyes. “Don’t worry about them! I’m sure they’re fine somewhere! If you guys are worried, why not communicate your worries with them? Isn’t that how relationships work?” Paimon asks, propping her hands on her hips as she bobs up and down in the air.

Everyone in the room nods, agreeing with Paimon. While they could communicate their worries to you, they don’t want to put any pressure on you after voicing their concerns. Plus, what’s there to worry about? You’re hanging out with your new friends! It’s not like you’re going to be smuggling a wild animal back to the abode or doing some illegal activities while on Teyvat, right?

Meanwhile…

You stand outside the teapot, debating on what you’re going to do with an army of issues before you. You bite your nails and glance at the teapot, then at the Saurian Whelps standing before you, staring at you expectantly. You’re so fucked. You went to Natlan to hang out with Mualani and Kachina to complete the tour of Natlan— of course, Kinich and Ajaw did show up for the first thirty minutes, but they left because Ajaw was being a little shithead that Kinich had to leave earlier than planned.

After hanging out with Kachina and Mualani, you head back to where the teapot is resting. Dakarai is the one to walk you back to the abode because he’s an absolute sweetheart and was eager to spend some extra time with you after not seeing you for who knows how long. However, on your way back to the teapot with Dakarai, you and the Tepetlisaur Whelp failed to notice certain creatures following from a safe distance. When you notice them, it is already too late to try to outrun them because you and Dakarai are surrounded by Saurian Whelps. Dakarai stands before you, curiously inspecting the other Saurians surrounding both of you.

“I don’t think I can bring you guys with me,” you say, tapping your feet on the ground as you try to remain strong in the face of Saurian Whelps.

The Tepetlisaur Whelp tilts its head, gazing at you curiously. You can see a visible question mark appearing above its head. You sigh, rubbing your temples. You’re trying your best to hold in your squeals. The Saurian Whelps are too cute, but at the same time, you cannot bring them into the abode. Saurians are from Natlan, and you don’t know if they can survive in an environment that isn’t Natlan. But how can you not bring them back to the abode with you!? Look at their little faces! They’re literally giving you the puppy dog eyes, almost as if they’re begging you to take them with you!

You turn to look at Dakarai— Aether and Paimon’s Tepetlisaur Whelp companion. “What do I do, Dakarai? I can’t bring them back because I don’t think the abode is a suitable environment for them.”

Dakarai roars in response.

You shake your head. “I don’t know if the abode is suitable for you either, Dakarai. But I guess we won’t know unless we try, right?”

Dakarai roars again in response, flailing his arms around cutely. You hold back a squeal and pat Dakarai’s head instead, hoping that’ll stop you from wanting to bring him into a tight hug. The other Saurians around you and Dakarai roar and whine in response, almost as if they’re demanding you to give them attention.

The Yumkasaur Whelp hops toward you, tilting its head to the side with a questioning gaze. “?” 

You shut your eyes and turn around, hoping that will make you become invisible to the eyes of the Saurian Whelps (it doesn’t). Surely, you can enter the abode without the Saurians trying to go with you, right?

The warm sun of Natlan beams down at you, heating the back of your head the longer you have your back facing the Saurian Whelps. If only Mualani, Kachina, and Kinich were here with you, then maybe they could lure the Saurians away. Unfortunately, it’s you against the world and the Saurian Whelps. Of course, Dakarai is with you, but you’re sure that he wants to come along with you to the abode. 

“Fuck it!” Without thinking, you touch the teapot with your eyes closed, not wanting to see the outcome of what you just did. 

When you’re finally in the abode, you open your eyes to see the beautiful estate where you and your beloveds reside. You nearly sigh in relief, glad that you’re finally home and can finally take a nap after who knows how long you’ve been gone. You stretch as you walk to the front door of the estate, listening to the birds chirping in the distance. 

Just as you reach for the doorknob, the door swings open, and you come face-to-face with Diluc, who sighs in relief when you two make eye contact. Without hesitating, Diluc pulls you into his arms and buries his face into your hair.

“Welcome home, angel. We’ve been worried about you,” Diluc whispers into your hair, tightening his arms around you. 

You peek at Diluc, wrapping your arms around him. “Sorry for worrying you and everyone else. I was in Natlan completing the tour with Mualani and Kachina!” You say, pulling away from the hug. “Kinich and Ajaw were also there, but they left early because Ajaw was being mean.” You scratch the back of your head.

You and Diluc walk into the estate, where the others are waiting for you. The minute twenty-seven pairs of eyes land on you, everyone stands up and nearly lunges at you. The first person to get to you is, of course, Childe. The man has his arms wrapped around your shoulders, rubbing his cheek up against yours.

“Snookums!!! I haven’t seen you at all today, and this is how you greet me!?” Childe exclaims, pouting at you.

You pat Childe’s head, letting him cling to you. “I didn’t even get to greet you today, Childe. In fact, I barely entered the living room, and you’re already on me.” You reply, poking his cheek.

After coaxing Childe to release you from his iron grip, Childe reluctantly releases you after guiding you to the couch. Zhongli walks over to you, handing you a cup of tea. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Zhongli before taking a sip of the warm drink. 

Heizou sits across from you, bouncing his right leg with excitement as he leans forward. “So? How was Natlan? Did you see anything cool or interesting there?” His gorgeous eyes shimmer with curiosity. 

You nod, taking another sip of your tea as Neuvillette holds out a plate of macaroons toward you. You take a pink macaroon from the plate and take a bite of the sweet treat. Now that you think about it… you didn’t have breakfast before leaving for Natlan— nor did you eat anything while in Natlan. Then again, you didn’t feel hungry because you were so focused on exploring the new region with your new friends. 

You eating one macaroon ended up being the entire plate of macaroons. Neuvillette looks almost horrified as he watches you scarf down the sweet treats within five minutes. Wriothesley chuckles and pats your head, watching you happily sip your tea afterward.

“You’re quite hungry, aren’t you? Don’t tell me your tour guides didn’t take you out to eat,” Wriothesley teases, wiping the crumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

You lick your lips and press your lips into a thin line before answering, “They didn’t, but that’s because I was so engrossed in wanting to explore the region that I completely forgot about needing to eat. But! But… I wasn’t feeling hungry at that time.”

Xiao suddenly appears beside you, his eyebrows furrowing. “You didn’t see that Kinich person, did you? I don’t like him,” Xiao states, crossing his arms over his chest before turning his head away from you.

You blink at Xiao, unsure of how to answer him. You technically did see Kinich, but again, it was only for a brief moment because of Ajaw’s lack of behavior. 

“Kinich and Ajaw were at the tour, but they left early! It was just me, Mualani, and Kachina! Oh! And Dakarai!” You reply, nodding.

Xiao huffs, still not pleased to hear your response. Ever since the day of the failed tour around Natlan, Xiao has been voicing his distaste for Kinich’s relic companion. More so, the relic’s unnecessary and rude comments are aimed at you. If Ajaw isn’t making fun of you, he’s making fun of the men and their taste in a partner— or the lack of taste. You appreciate the men coming to your defense, but Ajaw’s comment doesn’t hurt you as much as it should. The relic reminds you of a younger sibling who loves roasting their siblings. Or the spoiled youngest child who gets what they want no matter what— that is what Ajaw reminds you of. 

“Anyway, I’m finally home now, and we can relax in the living room together!” You say, placing the half-empty teacup on the coffee table. 

You lean back on the couch and yawn; the urge to take a nap is slowly taking over. Before Childe can get the chance to have you snuggle up against him, Lyney tugs you in his direction and has you resting your head on his chest. Childe grumbles, shooting a glare in Lyney’s direction, only to receive a shit-eating grin from him. 

Tighnari and Gorou’s ears twitch at a strange sound. The two men lock gazes, not saying a word. Everyone in the room is migrating to where you’re sitting while both Tighnari and Gorou remain standing in their spots. Gorou points at the entrance, wordlessly asking if Tighnari heard the same thing as he did. Tighnari nods, confirming Gorou’s suspicion. 

You peek from Lyney’s chest, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hand. “Tighnari? Gorou? Are you guys okay?”

Gorou and Tighnari stare at you. Tighnari smiles and nods. “Yes, we’re okay! But do you guys hear that?”

Everyone falls silent, trying to listen for whatever Tighnari and Gorou supposedly heard. Coming from the entrance of the estate, if you listen closely, you can hear faint scratching. It’s almost like something is trying to burrow into the floor of the estate but is unable to. Then, the sound of a familiar roar snaps you out of your sleepy haze. You sit up, looking around frantically at everyone in the room.

“Oh, no. Don’t tell me…” you trail off, getting up from the couch and making your way to the front door.

Dainsleif raises his eyebrows at you. “[Y/N]... do you have something you want to tell us?”

You nervously laugh, “I have no idea what you guys are implying.”

It’s a lie. You actually do know what they’re implying, but you’re really hoping that whatever you assume is trying to burrow under the estate is the complete opposite of what you’re actively trying to avoid.

Before you can reach the door, Al Haitham wraps his arms around your waist while Kaveh walks to the door to see what the commotion is. When the door swings wide open, all you see is a small army of Saurian Whelps at the entrance. 

“Dear Archons…” you whisper, covering your mouth.

Kaveh looks at you with wide eyes. “Did you smuggle Saurian Whelps into the abode!?” He demands, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is that why you were out in Natlan for so long?!” 

Al Haitham leans over and stares at your face for a moment. You can’t help but feel like a specimen being examined by scientists with the way Al Haitham’s looking at you. Archons, you can just die right now. 

Al Haitham sighs, shaking his head. “Given their facial expression, I highly doubt they smuggled Saurians into the abode. However, it seems like [Y/N] was very aware of the Saurian Whelps following them to the abode.”

You hear a small roar coming from the entrance. Your head perks up, and you see Dakarai at the entrance. When making eye contact with you, Dakarai shakes with excitement and waves at you before barreling past Kaveh and toward you. 

“Dakarai! It’s good to see you again!” Paimon exclaims happily, waving at the Tepetlisaur Whelp.

After seeing Dakarai enter the estate with ease, the other Saurian Whelps follow not long after. The Saurian Whelps surround you and Al Haitham, roaring and mewing with excitement. You go limp in Al Haitham’s arms, sighing in defeat.

So much for returning to the abode without the Saurians coming along; it’s not like you’re against the Saurians becoming residents of the beautiful abode that you share with the loves of your life. However, the people who do mind are your beloveds, and seeing the looks on their faces is concerning.

The majority of them look baffled, and then there’s Zhongli and Neuvillette. While they’re both masters of masking their emotions (most of the time), you can see slight annoyance on their faces. The once clear sunny skies of the abode have quickly turned to a dark gray sky with thunder crackling in the distance. 

Kaeya snorts, shaking his head. “Perhaps [Y/N] wanting to complete this tour around Natlan is another excuse for them to see the Saurian Whelps,” Kaeya teases, pinching your cheeks with a smirk.

Zhongli pinches the bridge of his nose. “We need to have a serious conversation about smuggling creatures into the abode, dearest. While I understand that is not your intention, you still manage to unintentionally bring a wild animal to the estate.”

You open your mouth to protest, but seeing the looks on other people’s faces makes you shut your mouth. The thunder in the distance grows louder and louder with each passing minute. You look at Neuvillette, who casually tucks his hair behind his ears, trying to act nonchalant about the entire situation. 

You squeak, “Neuvillette?”

Neuvillette clears his throat. “I agree with Zhongli. We need to have a serious conversation about this situation. While it’s not your intention to bring back fifteen wild Saurian Whelps to the abode, they are here illegally.”

Oh, shit. For once, Neuvillette isn’t calling Zhongli Deus Auri. You’re fucked. You’re going to get scolded by Zhongli and Neuvillette for unintentionally smuggling Saurians into the abode. The Saurian Whelps whimper, huddling close to you while shivering with fear the longer Zhongli and Neuvillette furrow their eyebrows.

You raise an index finger. “Before you guys scold me for something I didn’t do intentionally… can we pretty please keep the Saurian Whelps? Maybe we can get a license? I don’t know how it works in Natlan, but I can do my research, and then maybe, just maybe, we can let them live in the abode?”

The glares you receive from Zhongli and Neuvillette are bone-chilling, sending shivers down your spine. You sigh in defeat, pouting. You slowly turn to the Saurian Whelps, trying not to melt under the puppy dog eyes the Saurian Whelps are giving you. So much for trying to convince your beloveds to let you keep Saurians in the abode.

“If I can’t have Saurian Whelps in the abode, then can we have Ajaw instead?” You joke.

“Absolutely not.”

“Are you crazy?”

You pat the top of Dakarai’s head as he continues to examine his surroundings. If you can’t have an army of Saurian Whelps in the abode, will they make an exception for Dakarai? After all, he is Aether and Paimon’s Saurian companion.

Note: I just fell to my knees. I am finally done writing this fanfic, and it's nearing 3 AM 😭 I officially will not be able to write or post fanfics at my usual time (in the middle of the night) because of my new work schedule 😔 I will make an announcement regarding that in the morning, and it will be pinned. I will make a new navigation post later— it'll hopefully be more organized than my current navigation post. Anyway, To all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

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