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luv4georgie · 7 days

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101 dalmatians.

unknown!Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

in which here are a few special moments between young married couple, Oscar Piastri, Y/n Y/l/n and their dogs, Pongo and Perdita.

prompt list

warnings: fluff!!!

walkies. 1 (Pongo POV)

i lived in an old flat in London with my pet, Oscar. although Oscar was Australian we lived in London, he wanted to live here because he thought it was more ‘calming’ and it could be better to pursue his music. Oscar loves playing instruments and singing and writing songs. he wrote songs and lyrics about romance which he new absolutely nothing about. he was a rather handsome man in my case. i just don’t know why he couldn’t find such an attractive mate.

it was 11:00am and Oscar was playing away at the keys on his piano. by the look on poor Oscar’s face, it wasn’t going too well. i was laying on the couch near the window, my head slightly sticking out of it. my eyes wandered as i looked for a lovely young dog with a pet to soothe mine’s loneliness.

my eyes followed a small pug with her head stuck up, her pet looked the exact same. a too short couple, i thought but no, not for Oscar. next i saw a rather fancy breed, a poodle with her head held high, a beautiful trim and a pink bow sat on the neatly kept curls on her head, her pet looked unusually the same as well, nope not Oscar’s type. an old Shih Tzu with her pet, an extremely young Labrador with an extremely young pet. it was a problem, a real problem. but then… well! i do say. the most beautiful creature on four legs. a Dalmatian, just like me. now if only the girl… well! she’s very lovely too!

they were heading for Regent’s park, a perfect meeting place. oh… but Oscar never stops work until after 5, it’ll be to late. but what if… i took my snout and moved the hand over to 5:15. perfect! i barked until Oscar noticed me. i took my red leash in-between my teeth and barked once more. Oscar looked at me, then the clock, then at his watch. he stretched and groaned “after five already?” he asked himself. he changed the time on his watch and stood up. “well then Pongo boy, we best get going” he clasped my leash onto my collar and we were off.

i practically dragged Oscar down the stairs and out the door. i strode down the paths of Regents park, passing multiple dogs i had seen before. i was starting to lose hope. but then i found them. sitting on a bench in-front of a pond. i strode down the path in-front of the woman and her dog. the girl looked up at us a few times. Oscar sat on the grass. i needed to stir up some sort of attention. i took Oscar’s hat off of his head and placed it on the seat next to the pair. and for some odd reason, they left! i tried to follow but Oscar clipped the leash onto my collar. but u still dragged him away. ah-ha! there they were, once Oscar was on his feet, i wrapped my leash around the woman’s legs. they both fell in the water, but, they laughed, and that’s when i knew. they loved each-other and i loved Perdie.

Cruella De-Vil. 2 (Y/n POV)

i was sat on mine and Oscar’s shared couch. me and him were married for about 6 months now. Nanny, our house-keeper brought out our tea and some muffins. “thank you Nanny. Oscar dear! tea-time!” i shouted up to Oscar who was practicing the melody for his new song. it was a rather nice melody, but it just needed some lyrics. Oscar came down and danced around with Pongo, humming his song. my hand covered my mouth as i laughed. then we heard an all-familiar honk of a car. Cruella. Cruella and i went to school together, years ago but we were still friends.

it looked as though Oscar’s ears pricked up at the sound. “oh that must be Cruella. your dearly devoted old friend” Oscar smirked narrowing his eyes at me. he new how much of a self-obsessed person Cruella was. they despised eachother. “Cruella De-Vil. that’s it!” Oscar said again. my eyebrows bunched together. “Cruella De-Vil… Cruella De-Vil… if she doesn’t scare you” he started singing. jumping in-front of me as i headed for the window to see if it was really her. “no evil thing will!” he sung. “oh Oscar!” i said as i swatted his chest playfully. “to see her is to take a sudden… chill!” he carried on. as he sung i felt a finger run up my back and i shouted in surprise. “Cruella, Cruella De-Vil” he stopped, sneaking up to the attic to where he was practicing.

“let her in Nanny!” i shouted as Oscar played the melody loudly. before Nanny could open the door Cruella barged in and walked hurriedly to the living room. “Y/n darling!” she practically screamed. “hello Cruella” she wondered around the first floor of the small house. “where are they? for heaven’s sake where are they?” she shouted repeatedly. “who Cruella?” “the puppies of-course” “they’ll be at-least 3 weeks” i giggled. “would you like some tea?” i asked. “no darling! i’ve got to run! just tell me as soon as the puppies are here!” she boomed with her loud voice as she took off out the door. “goodbye” i said. i flopped down on the couch with a loud sigh. Oscar came down singing again. “you’re no help” i said as i pushed him out of my face, taking me with him.

Oscar spun me around as we danced to his song. we laughed and danced. then we just looked into each-other’s eyes as Pongo barked and jumped around with us. we backed up against a wall and Oscar snuggled his face into my cheek and kissed it. we giggled. “oh you really are an idiot” i chuckled. “i love you” he whispered. “i love you too” then we just stayed there for a few moments, smiling at each-other.

should i do a part 2??? thanks for reading and sorry it’s so short!!! ❤️❤️❤️

#Spotify #f1 #f1 x reader imagines #lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #nolan hansen #cl16 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #landoscar x reader #101 dalmatians

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desert-fern · 6 months

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“Look for the good spots in life!”

Okay. So I know that Rhett isn’t a Dagger, but @auroralightsthesky gave me this idea and I had to share it with you all!

Fun little (sort of) extra for the Disney!Daggers moodboard series that you can find here!

#disney!daggers #fern creates #moodboard #moodboard series #lewis pullman #rhett abbott #101 dalmatians #not really top gun related but shush #bonus moodboard #outer range #rhett abbott x reader

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arlo-has-descended-to-dirt · 8 months

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1x6 L.D.S.K

IMDb did us so dirty with this one, they gave us a single low quality Spencer image so I have to scavenge through the web because I LOVE THIS EPISODE. I wanted to find the bit where Morgan puts the whistle on Reid but I couldn’t find it :(

#criminal minds #posted by a rat btw #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #imdb.com #rrrrrrrrr #I’m a bit feral for Spencer being kicked and I think that that’s a problem #hotch is kinda daddy in this episode too #“it’s not that hard a Dalmatian can do it

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feelmyskinonyourskin · 9 months

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Pongo and Perdita [Crossover Trope]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Crossover style 1. Characters from one franchise appear in the universe of a totally different franchise. 2. The plot of one franchise is applied to characters from a different franchise. "Bucky gets a dalmatian service animal and meets you and your service dalmation, very in the style of 101 Dalmatians."

Warnings: No use of Y/N. Female Reader. No other warnings, just fluff.

WC: 1,135

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

Bucky plucked away at the old piano, a thrift find he reveled in playing to his heart's content to chase away the bad thoughts and keep him going. Pongo laid at his feet, a service dog he’d gotten a few years ago to help him through all the trauma. Not only an incredible companion, but a best friend.

Pongo knew hobbies were important for his human, especially one recovering from what he’d been through. But Pongo had been cooped up in that stuffy Brooklyn brownstone with him all day and was desperate for the fresh air. Afterall, getting out of the house was essential for Bucky’s health.

Pongo sauntered over to his favorite spot by the window, watching the world go by.

A tall, lanky girl walked by, brown coat shining in the sun. Her human wore a beret and oversized glasses. What an unusual breed.

Then came a pug, nose strung as high as her owners and not even giving Pongo in the window a second glance.

After them, a small child and her pup and an old woman on a bike with her dog in a basket.

Pongo laid his head on the window sill with a sigh.

Then he saw her, the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Clean white coat, symmetrical spots and the most enchanting caramel eyes.

And the human wasn’t half bad either.

It had just been him and Bucky for far too long. But this mystery pair seemed like the perfect opportunity to change that.

Pongo lept to the front door, took his leash in his mouth, and galloped over to Bucky. His sad, large eyes told his human exactly what he wanted.

“Sorry bud, got kinda carried away. Alright, let's go to the park.”

Perfect. That had to be where the dalmatian and her human were heading.

Brooklyn’s Prospect Park was Bucky’s favorite place to be in the spring. The trees were in bloom and plenty of grass had finally grown in after the long winter, giving him and Pongo plenty of space to stretch out and play.

But today, Pongo didn’t seem interested in stopping at his favorite greenway. He ignored all the other pups he’d normally be so eager to play with. Bucky practically had to run to keep up with him, nose in the earth following a scent like a trained bloodhound and choosing a trail they’d never gone down before.

Finally they stopped. Bucky rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

They were by a beautiful pond, one they’d never come across before.

You were sitting on a nearby bench, head lost in a book with your dog sitting beside you, watching the water.

Pongo traipsed right over, leaving Bucky exasperated and still catching up.

He went up to your dog first, giving her a chance to sniff him and make sure he was okay before approaching you. She seemed unsure, but he went ahead anyway.

You excitedly put down your book and gave him some pets.

“Well hey there handsome guy, who are you?” you asked

“Sorry!” Bucky finally caught up “Sorry, that’s my dog. He usually doesn’t bother strangers.”

“Oh no, it’s fine. He’s a sweetie. Aren’t you?”

Pongo looked incredibly pleased with himself as you scratched a particularly good spot behind his ear.

“What’s his name?” you asked the strange handsome man

“This is Pongo. He’s my service dog.”

“Pongo! Oh you’re a good boy!”

Bucky bent down, giving your aloof dog some attention as well.

“This is Perdita. She’s also my service dog.”

“What a pretty girl.” Bucky commented as he stroked her head

Perdita shot Pongo another look, as if to say “Haha, I’m getting some attention too!”

“Well,” Bucky stood, “We’re sorry to bother you. Like I said, this is unusual for him. Come on Pongo!”

“Oh no, you’re no bother. I love meeting other dogs!”

“Well, have a nice day.” Bucky said with a smile, bowing his head and reattaching Pongo’s leash, attempting to drag him away.

Pongo jumped up, nudging his nose against Bucky’s shoulder and in one motion, took his vibranium arm in his mouth. Bucky was knocked backwards, giving Pongo the opportunity to slip away and run, leash still trailing behind him.

“Pongo! Give it back!” Bucky shouted, finally getting back on his feet and running after him

You jumped up, attempting to help the stranger chase his dog and get his prosthetic back.

Perdita, meanwhile, looked amused as she watched you and Bucky run around in circles, trying to capture Pongo.

Suddenly, you and the man collided, chest to chest, as you both were too focused on where Pongo was and not each other. You looked down at your feet and Pongo had gotten his leash wrapped around both of your legs.

“Oh gosh, I am so sorry!” Bucky exclaimed, trying to untangle the two of you

Perdita jumped in, tugging at the hem of your coat to keep you from toppling over.

But it was no use. With a loud splash you and the man went crashing into the pond.

It was a shallow pond, but still it had done a marvelous job in soaking you head to toe.

“I am so sorry!” the man exclaimed as you both flailed in the water

You couldn’t respond, this incident being the tipping point in a terrible week. All you wanted to do was go to the park and read your book and relax. The tears started flowing freely.

“Oh god.” Bucky felt awful “Here.” he said, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket that was also drenched.

What kind of an old-fashioned weirdo carried around a handkerchief? You had to giggle at the fact. And it was totally useless too, as the man and his clothes and the things in his pockets had also fallen victim to the unexpected swim. So you giggled some more.

And the man also giggled. In fact, the two of you couldn’t stop giggling.

Two sharp barks from the bank of the pond snapped you out of it, as Pongo and Perdita sat side by side, tails wagging while they watched the two of you sit in the water.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.” the stranger said, offering you his flesh hand and helping you stand

You smiled at him and introduced yourself.

“Would you like to walk with me to my place? It isn’t far from here and I can get you some towels so you can dry off? Get a warm cup of coffee for you too? It’s the least I can do after my dog caused all this.” he offered

“I’d like that.” you replied

You helped him reattach his metal arm, and then you and he walked side by side out of the park, Pongo and Perdita not far behind.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #winter soldier #fatws #crossover #trope de sept #trope #101 dalmatians

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annaberunoyume · 1 year

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Imagine: The Spot goes outside of his appartment. In utter frustration because his experiences to recreate what happened in Kingpin's lab just won't work.

Just then, you return from walking your dalmatians. You look up and see this weird, but somehow cute monochrome, taller polka-dot man. You've seen so many things in New York that it does not faze you. You see him holding his head with both hands in frustration, sitting outside. You approach and your dogs licks him. Thus begins a kinship...

#the spot #the spot x reader #dogs #dalmatian boy #dalmatians #hurt comfort #meet cute #dogs are the best #spiderverse 2 #across the spiderverse

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kaleidoscope1967eyes · 1 year

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how do you think luke would be with pets?

Thanks for the ask, anon! I don't know if any canon or legends material really touches on this, which is such a shame because I think he would be so good with animals!

Luke has always been a fan of all sorts of creatures. As a little boy on Tatooine, he loved playing with and riding his friend Windy's dewback. He did have a pet of his own growing up: the Lars family owned a spotted sandhound named, you guessed it, Sandy. Even though she was an old girl, Luke would always run around the farm with her and try to teach her tricks, and she'd always do her best to keep up with him.

Sandy was extremely protective of him, to the point where it cost her life; when he was around thirteen years old, a group of womp rats ambushed him while he was tending to some moisture vaporators, and she immediately rushed in to take all the fatal blows. It was absolutely devastating, but in a rare moment of vulnerability, Owen used the situation to teach Luke about the inevitability of loss and the importance of appreciating those you love in the moment--a skill that would ultimately be very relevant to his jedi training.

On the topic of jedi training, animals are naturally drawn to him due to his strong presence in the force. Sometimes this means an entire flock of jubba birds will land on him and all start singing, other times it means large, predatory creatures will locate him very easily and try to eat him. Luke absolutely hates fighting or attacking animals. He is forever haunted by the time he literally disarmed a wampa--he was only trying to scare it away, he didn't mean for it to actually make contact with his lightsaber. You remind him that even though he didn't have a choice, he still did the right thing by giving it a chance to live.

I know I've talked about this before, but Luke would be a total horse girl (boy). He's great with dewbacks and he's great with tauntauns, so he would definitely also be great with equinoids like pulgas, orbaks, and guarlaras. Even though horses are usually extra skittish around men, they're perfectly fine around him because they can sense just how kind and gentle he is. They especially appreciate that he's intuitive and empathetic enough to know never to raise his voice or make sudden movements around them.

After noticing Luke's knack for critters, you decide to get him a pet of his own. You end up getting him a rescue tooka cat you found in a shelter at Mos Espa: it's a playful, snuggly orange tabby that's missing its right paw. What a strange coincidence, you thought, gently picking it up. Luke deserves to know he's not alone.

When Luke came back to your shared quarters on Home One and saw a kitty on his bed, he was ecstatic. He literally started crying--thankfully, you had R2 there to record his reaction. Because you found it on Tatooine, Luke decided to call it "Lars" in honor of his family. They end up doing everything together: he goes to briefings with Lars stretched out on his shoulders, they go on joyrides in his x-wing together, etc. People get a huge kick out of how close they are--"guy who blew up the Death Star crying over a cat" ends up becoming a huge meme in the Rebellion.

Tagging: (comment if you want to be tagged or you want me to stop tagging you)

@stonegoldsxcrxt

@laserbrains

@fandom-gal44

@myevilmouse

@hansonveggieclub

@lex-the-flex

@ancient-stardust

@dailydragon08 (happy birthday!)

@spacesurfing

@starobi

@starryluce

@hxney-lemcn

@lukefics

@demigoddessqueens

@micheleamidalajedi

@princessxkenobi

#luke skywalker headcanon #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x you #my inbox is open #i included my fanon dog species™ i'm working on for children of the dunes #(imagine a combination of a dalmatian and a cheetah)#disney princess luke ftw #this is... a ramble #please let me know if there is any star wars content involving luke interacting with animals in a positive way #if luke were a cat he would without a doubt be an orange tabby #my fic

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theviceadmiralswife · 7 months

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Alignment fever chapter 1 part 3

part 3.......

..."Uhm sir, thats… very impressive.. but I better leave and attend my duties , sir!", she says quietly. A stretched out rumble coming from his chest was Dalamtians only reply :" Mhhh!".y/n stepped back, this was becoming hihgly creepy now to her, as she didnt know that it was her heat that made Dalmatian loosing his mind right now. As y/n took a step back his tail wrapped around her leg, attempting to pull her closer. Dalmatian licked his jowls, his hand grabbing to her waist. "Vice admiral Dalmatian….?? whats going on? What are you doing?", she asked in fear as the obvious overpowering Dalmatian pulled her closer, sniffing her neck again a soft growl escaping his throat. y/n small fists hammered on his chest madly. "Let go… Dalmatian..Let go…stop!", she shouted angry,"… this is… this is NOT appropriate!". Dalmatian heard her words but it didnt register anymore. Her scent changed into an even stronger heat and he freaking loved, raw lust started to built inside him, his tongue flicked out, slowly dragging across her neck, as he began to drool. “Mhmh…” He kept licking up her neck, still holding her “Your body smells and tastes soooo goood, and I love it so much…” His tongue began to lick her neck faster and faster as soon as he said this, causing him to pant harder as well. He sniffed her neck again as he still licked her before he looked at her eyes “Mmm, you smell soooo goood, I want your entire body to myself…” He began to suck on her neck slowly while looking at her eyes. y/n trembled, her fists hitting his chest harder and harder but there was no escape of Dalmatians firm grip, to him her resistance was part of an ancient primal game it was too cute, not so for y/n. Dalmatians rational thoughts were almost turned off, his ears perked up he could here someone coming down the hallway and stopping in front of his office door…. SLAP , he didnt register how fast or hard but y/n hand hit him like a lightning strike, it hurt his rather sensitive dog snout, he could tell y/n aimed on purpose for this sensitive facial part of his Dalmatian hybrid form. He dropped her instantly y/n got asap onto her feet, walking fast away to the door… it did the trick Dalmatian shook his head wildly. " Wait y/n I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to…please come back.!", he huffed exhausted from controlling his desires.

y/n didnt look back, she was hot and flustered as hell, feeling still feverish and sweaty as she made it in strides to the office door, which opened at the same time. Dalmatians second in command his Captain Gero stepped into the office. y/n lowered her head passed Captain Gero mumbling a greeting and grabbed the kitchen cart with the water, pushing it agressively along to the next vice admirals office and doing her duty. "Come back", Dalamatian whispered to himself, he was angry with himself on top of that… it wasn't fair to her to be so forceful certainly not without explonation, but then again she might not understand after all she was pure human. " Geeze some people just cant handle the heat!", Captain Gero remarked shaking his head. He approached Dalmatian with a pile of paperwork that neede to be discussed for the next mission, it was back to business. Later on in the afternoon Dalmatian went to the HQ cafeteria where the marines went for their breaks, not many where there just a few recruits and captains with their wives and children. Dalmatian looked at these families with a wistful look on his face, he is 47 now the likelyhood and then… the other thing..!! He shook his head as he approached the buffet and hot food counter, his intent was food yes, but he also wanted to see if he could spot y/n down here during her work, he would do anything to apologise for his primal behaviour. Dalamatians nose flared up with all the smells here near the kitchen it was almost an impossible task to locate it, other females where in their cycles too, but Dalmatian didnt care the only scent he wanted was y/n. He closed his eyes his nose scanning through the barrage of scents and smells. THERE, there it was the scent, her heat, her natural odour her lovely soft flowery and musky perfume, his tail started fliking with great interest, as he opened his eyes his tongue licked his jowls. She was doing prepwork in the back of the kitchen so Dalmatian couldn't talk to her. He sighed he would wait for a chance. His eyes opened but to Dalmatians dismay his look was greeted by the Lunch lady that was in charge of the cafeteria and her brigade of cooks and she had seen enough and stared Dalamatian down. He collected his thoughts and ordered food to eat in the cafeteria, the faint yet strong scent of y/n heat always present. Dalamatian would come down the next 2 days doing the same thing, unfortunately the heatwave at Marineford got worse and worse, people like recruits or even the HQ staff had to stay at home unable to work in such conditions. Leaving fewer and fewer people to work the kitchen. On day 3 Dalmatian came down to the cafeteria again just to find it closed to the weather circumstances, y/n scent of her heat had dissapeared.

end of chapter 1

#one piece #one piece marines #One piece vice admirals #dalmatian x reader #marineford #One piece x reader #One piece vice admiral Dalmatian

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icarus-star · 1 month

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Ydm our random thoughts? 👉👈 In THAT case, I've had the hc for a while now that Gabriel after getting everything sorted out started working as a dog walker. He gets the sunshine, fresh air, and exercise for his mental health, and also some time with puppos ^^ AND he takes photos of the "particularly cute ones" (all of them. It's all of them) and texts them to you :')

ABSOLUTELY!! i can totally see that!! he especially lovs walking bigger dogs. no particular reason, he just really likes big dogs.

#he prolly really likes dalmatians #i ❤ rory culkin #rory culkin #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin smut #gabriel 2014 #☆arties inbox

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frogchiro · 5 months

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May I ask some Dalmatian!Roach?

So now that Simon and Johnny or locked together because Simon was punishing him and Catgirl!Reader teased them about Graves but they're stuck together and it takes awhile for the knot to settle down :((

And Dalmatian!Roach hears Reader's whines to be bred and fucked cuz she's ovulating BADLY as she uses her tail on herself to tease Simon and Johnny more before Roach finds them and sets to teasing her because that's what brothers do; they look out for each other 🤭 and he's licking and sucking on her swollen clit as he uses 3 fingers on her, but not once does she cum cuz he won't let her and she's crying that she wants babies!! X( But Roach isn't don't teasing her yet, slapping his swollen tip on her clit as their fluids stick together and he's just kissing her lovingly and nibbling on her neck~

And then he puts her in a mating press so it would be easier to access her womb and give her babies when he knots inside her, but if a single drop spills, he'll have to include Simon and Johnny when their free :((

He's trying to be supportive, damn it!! X(

I think under all that energy, he would he a romantic guy 🙂

I will raise you to the idea of Roach being a little shit and FULLY taking advantage of the two larger hybrids being knotted and stuck together and having the pretty kitty all to himself right in front of them :(

Roach is slightly smaller than both Simon and Johnny and is less robust and rambunctious so he whenever the three men are getting it on with you poor Roach always has to wait the longest for the two other to mount you and finish so this is a perfect opportunity!! Not to mention that he can smell you're ovulating and your yowling will soon attract unwanted attention so what better way than Roach being the one to mount and calm you ^.^

Johnny and Si can snarl all they want but whenever one of them makes a too sudden move they whine in pain because it disturbed the knot still lodged deep inside Soap so they can only sit and watch you get fucked and bred by Roach who, judging by the pleasured expression on his face and his tongue lolling out, is happy as can be while thrusting the leaky tip of his cock against your cervix as you moan and mewl for him to give you his pups :((

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #hybrids au #hybrid au #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #gary sanderson x reader #gary roach sanderson x reader #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #gary roach sanderson

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dotster001 · 1 year

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Househusband Au HC'S

Summary:Crewel/Crowley/Vil/Rook/Malleus/Idia x gn!reader

Requested by @stygianoir

A/N: my tag list is still packed so hopefully you guys find this 😂

CW:sus gardener Rook, discussions of Idia's depression and fear of death, but I think that's it

Part Two. Part Three

Most well dressed parent at the PTA meeting. Puts everyone to shame, and makes all the other parents and teachers jealous.

Cooks five star meals exclusively , and makes sure you get your proper intake of nutrients. He can't have his favorite pup lacking in proper nutrition!

One hundred percent coordinates your outfits for you everyday. You're the best dressed worker, all because your husband hand sews you outfits designed to blow the competition out of the water.

Pretends he's not snuggly, until nighttime, then he gets pouty. He'll be aggressively folding laundry, and not speaking to you until you come to bed and let him hold you.

You own twelve dogs. Each dog has an individual diet it is on, that is hand made by him everyday. He knows exactly what every dog needs, and makes sure to memorize what each dog needs.

If you want kids, you will adopt/birth at least three. He likes a full house. Majored in alchemy before he settled down as your househusband, and is more than happy to tutor not just your kids, but also their friends, in alchemy.

Sings like Roger from 101 dalmatians because I said so. Also he plays the piano like him. Because I said so. I'm weak okay!

They say he had an illustrious career as a model, then he met you. That's only half true though. He was planning on retiring anyway, and just happened to meet you around that time. He likes to let the tabloids believe it was all your fault. It makes him laugh. Vil Schoenheit bows to no one! Now drink your smoothie!

Healthy meals constantly. He somehow managed to make them all taste good though. It's a little suspicious honestly…what does he put in that smoothie? You never liked smoothies for breakfast before…

He likes to do your nightly routine for you. It's his love language. At 7 pm sharp, he clears his throat, and gestures for you to sit down. Then he brushes out your hair, does your skin care routine, dresses you in pajamas, and tucks you in, making sure to give you a kiss on the forehead before he joins you.

If you aren't home in time for your nightly routine, he goes to bed early, turned away from your side of the bed. He will not speak to you, even though you know full well he is awake. He knows deep down it's not your fault, but he has simmering rage and no one else to take it out on.

That said, when you do fight (which you do a lot) he'll storm out before he can be particularly nasty. But you'll wake up to a single rose on the pillow next to you, and a new pair of shoes to wear to work.

You have one fluffy white cat, or one child. It's one or the other in Vil's pristine house. This isn't a barn, for seven's sake.

Cooks, cleans, gardens…. he's made for this life. You don't even know where he gets the time for it.

Rook prides himself on having the best garden in the neighborhood. Your neighbors asked him what fertilizer he used, and he wrapped an arm around you and giggled about how it was "the most organic around". Considering the last time you had to do laundry there were red stains on his clothes, you choose not to ask questions.

If you have kids, there are three of them, each two years apart. He makes the perfect paper bag lunches for them everyday, with little french notes in them (raising bilingual kids in this family). As he drops them off at school he kisses each one on the top of the head, and jovially waves them off.

You have two dogs that he takes hunting with him on his solo weekends (they aren't often, because he can barely stand to part from you!) But you also have a rabbit. He gave it your name, and likes to tease you by saying how he "caught his lapin" and never saying whether he's referring to you or the rabbit.

Another one who makes sure you look your best at work. But his favorite thing is when you forget your lunch, and he "has" to bring it to work for you. This is when he is at his most dressed up, and your outfits compliment eachother the most. He loves the gazes of envy that come his way as he kisses you and hands you your lunch.

When he's not doing chores at break neck speed, he wants you to either be in his arms, or him in yours. He doesn't care which! Please, his poor heart needs you!

Trust fund baby. Born rich, then married you. Tried to convince you not to work, but you wanted to, for whatever reason, so he "allows" it. (Who is he kidding? He could never deny you anything, what a simp) he sulks all day though, moping like a lovesick teen until you come home. Heaven forbid you forget something and have to come back in before you actually left, because he has your boss on speed dial, and will call you in sick. Oh, you just left your wallet? Too late, he assumed you had fallen ill and had chosen to stay home with him!

He's a little clueless on cooking and household chores (Lilia is no help) but he tries! Boy does he try! And it's not half bad. Not stellar, but not bad. You've only gotten food poisoning once, and he's only ever burnt a hole in two of your shirts with an iron.

Loves to serenade you with his violin on special occasions. You know the evening is going to be wonderful when he pulls it out. Oftentimes, it's a song he wrote for you, and sometimes he even sings along. His deep timbre will often have you so relaxed that you start to drift off. He's fine with that! More time to cuddle!

Speaking of, he starts the night out by laying on his side of the bed, and by the end of the night he is wrapped around you like a koala. He also gets very hot at night. You often don't need a blanket. You asked him about it once, and he said something about "draconic internal temperature regulation", whatever the fuck that means.

You had to put him on a budget because he buys you every shiny thing he sees. He always goes over budget, and always insists it's the last time and it will never happen again. This, friends, is what we call a lie.

He's only a househusband in name, really. He still has an income/job in the form of streaming and YouTube videos. But he stays at home, and likes it when you call him your househusband. He gets all blushy and smiley. He likes the idea of being the one you look forward to coming home to.

Ortho lives with you both, obviously. And he does all the cooking and cleaning. But he and Idia have an unspoken agreement that if you ask, he helped too.

Calls you at work at least once a day. It's always during your lunch break though, so that you can "eat lunch together" You know his mental health difficulties are acting up if he calls you more than once though.You don't have to come home, he'll be alright, he just needs to hear your voice.

His stream only knows you as player 2. When you get back from work, he'll say "Oh player 2 just got home!" And get so excited. He'll run off stream to give you a kiss, and won't come back until you remind him he's streaming. His followers have been there through the whole progression of your relationship, and despite not knowing what you look like, and only hearing your voice off screen every once in a while, they adore Gloomy Samurai and Player 2.

You always have two cats at a time, usually the ones at the shelter or humane society that are bonded or siblings. He doesn't want to separate a family, and also gets nervous about the inevitability of death. So you always have two cats. That way if something happens you always have one.

Yes. You get him to start telehealth therapy, and medication. Why do you ask?

He tries, bless his heart. His cooking is not bad, but his cleaning skills are subpar. To be honest, he's not cut out for the househusband life, but you've heard horror stories about how he handled his previous jobs. So for the sake of the world, you do your best to ensure he stays here.

"He's so generous" 🙄 Any time he goes a little bit above what you expected from him, he drops that line. A particularly good dessert? How generous. He actually folded laundry today? So magnanimous. But it hurts his pride if you don't agree, and you married him for some reason, right?

He has an allowance, and usually spends all of it. Sometimes it's gifts for you, but a lot of times it's for him. Which, it's his allowance, so that's fine. But he buys the weirdest stuff and doesn't use it. It just sits around your home.

If you have to work on something on the home computer, good luck to you. Home is for loving him, not working! He'll slip into your lap, give you a sexy pout, and start caressing your cheek, and tracing shapes into your neck. Then he'll start talking about how you're neglecting him, just put the work away and come cuddle with him.

Where he shines though, is if you guys end up with kids. He's a surprisingly good father, making sure they all are clean, safe, and well fed. He helps with homework, and is surprisingly good at it, he's good at seeing what their needs are, he knows immediately when one of the kids is sick, and is at the doctor right away… you don't know where these skills came from. But the second the kids are in bed, he's back to being your needy husband.

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luminoustarlight · 7 months

Text

As Fate Would Have It | DILF!Anakin Skywalker

Anakin Skywalker gets a new assistant, who also happens to be his favorite OnlyFans performer.

◂ previous ▸ chapter two

rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 3.7k | read on ao3

warnings: modern!au, undisclosed age gap, SMUT [use of toys (dildo and fleshlight), mutual masturbation, squirting, watching of pornography]

After midnight is Anakin’s favorite time of the day. His kids have been asleep since 8:30 pm— their weekday curfew— and he’s finally stopped working on the project he brought home from work. It kept him from watching 101 Dalmatians with Luke and Leia but “it needed to be done.”

He completed it well after the twins went to sleep, his neck was aching, and he needed to unwind. Now, he’s settled on the left side of his king bed, back propped against the headboard and his tablet waiting for him on the nightstand. He’s been thinking about this all day. Ever since he got the notification at 1:48 p.m. that HoneySuckle uploaded a new video.

While he was at work. On a very busy day, he might add. As much as he wanted to get away to watch it immediately, he couldn’t. But now he has uninterrupted time to enjoy himself and the woman he’s about to watch.

Anakin watches HoneySuckle exclusively. For over three years now, he has been subscribed to her page for $7.99 a month, which is an absolute disgrace to the quality of content she puts out. That’s why he tips her at least $200 for each video. It’s a number that hardly means a thing to Anakin. But to HoneySuckle, it is everything. It’s a cushion for incidentals. For the flat tire on her Mini Cooper. The vet bill for her orange tabby, Panini. She has expressed her thanks to him in their private messages, but it never seems to be enough.

Their casual conversations are never enough.

It comes as a great surprise to Anakin to see that her newest video is dedicated to him. Him— Anakin Skywalker AKA skyguy81. AKA HoneySuckle’s biggest fan and number one supporter.

Squirting for Sky 🖤

He’s never clicked on anything faster in his life. The edges of his brain are beginning to fog. The mere thought of Honey getting off to the thought of him makes goosebumps prickle along his skin and his cock begin to swell. But then he sees what she’s wearing. Or, not wearing for that matter. Usually, she’ll begin videos with a full set on. Whether it’s a lacy bra and panties, a teddy, or a babydoll, teasingly taking off her lingerie is part of her brand.

Not in this video, though. In this new 23 minute video, she is wearing a black garter and thong with roses embroidered in the mesh along her hip bones. Sheer black stockings are pulled up to her thighs and as she spreads her legs— dear God— Anakin sees that her panties are crotchless.

Every video is expertly angled so only the bottom half of her face is on camera. She’s mentioned to Anakin in the past that this is not her full time job and therefore some anonymity is important. He doesn’t need to see her whole face to know she is beautiful.

“I bought this just for you,” Honey says directly to Anakin. “You said you liked black. I hope you like this.” She goes to grab the vibrator next to the pink dildo on her bed.

“I love it,” Anakin mumbles. Running her hand over one of her bare breasts, she turns on the vibrator. The familiar hum of the toy reminds Anakin to put on his headphones. Just in case.

Now with that taken care of, Anakin can begin taking care of himself. It doesn’t take long for the guy to get hard when he’s watching Honey. Hell, he can just think about her and he’ll be horny. The melodic cadence to her voice, the angelic sounds she makes when she cums, the lustful desire to bury himself in her cunt. She is the only woman he has desired since his wife and he doesn’t even know her name. But he knows the curves of her body as if he’s felt them with his own two hands. God, how he wishes he could touch her, kiss her, pleasure her.

It’s pathetic. He is pathetic for wanting the impossible. Anakin Skywalker is a smart man. A genius in many regards. Yet he’s delusional enough to think her messages might mean something. That this video dedicated to him means something.

Of course, it doesn’t. Everything about his conversations with Honey is transactional. It’s part of her job. That’s it. Nothing more. You’re not special.

But fuck, does it make his cock hard thinking this is all for him. Well, this is for him. The title of the video says so. With her legs spread nice and wide, Anakin can see how wet she has become from the vibrator on her clit.

Stiff and dribbling precum on his belly, Anakin wraps his long fingers around his equally long shaft. He swipes his palm over the tip to lubricate the rest of his dick. Honey has now turned off the vibrator and grabs the dildo. Despite its playful color, it’s a formidable size. A similar 7 inches to Anakin’s cock, she opens her mouth and the tip disappears. Then a little bit more… and a little more… until she’s gagging. She pulls it out of her mouth with a loud gasp. Messy strings of saliva fall on her chin and chest.

“Fuck,” she breathes. “I love choking on your cock. Feeling it so deep in my throat until I can’t breathe.”

This sends a jolt through Anakin’s whole body. His cock lurches in his hand and he knows all too well that his hand will simply not suffice tonight. He pauses Honey’s video and reluctantly gets off of bed to retrieve his Fleshlight from his hidden stash in the closet. Usually, his hand does just fine. He’s used to it by now. Being a single dad in his early forties and the CEO of his own company, he doesn’t have time to go on dates. He has one woman on his rolodex of hookup numbers and even then, he doesn’t contact her often. Usually it’s her who needs him. He prefers it that way, anyway.

Anakin returns to his bed with the barely used Fleshlight in hand and immediately resumes the video. Honey continues to give the dildo a blowjob, making Anakin ache for it to be his cock in her mouth. He can only imagine how warm it is. How he’d make her relax so he can shove his entire length down her throat. How she’d sound choking on his dick and not some pink toy.

Again, she holds it in her mouth until her lungs are screaming for air. Anakin ruts his hips up into his fist. He’s waiting to use the Fleshlight until she puts the toy in her cunt.

Which is right now. She lines the tip of it to her opening, pushing the head in teasingly before removing it and dragging it along her folds.

“Have you been good today? Do you deserve to fuck me?” The seductive nature of Honey’s voice is so familiar to Anakin, yet every time dirty talk drips from her lips, his spine tingles.

“Please, Honey,” Anakin whispers, hovering the opening of the Fleshlight over his cock. “Put it in, baby.”

As if obeying his command, Honey pushes the toy into her hole. At the same time, Anakin lowers his own toy onto himself. The tight Fleshlight sucks in his dick and it damn near has Anakin’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. He’d forgotten what it feels like… how similar yet different it is to real pussy. Fuck, what he would do to have his cock in Honey’s actual cunt. The best he can do is use his overactive imagination.

Honey is thrusting the dildo in and out of her and soft moans fill Anakin’s ears. He yanks the Fleshlight up and down—a lazy way of using it, he knows— but it does the job. “That’s it…” he breathes. His heartbeat is racing impossibly fast, chasing down an orgasm that is going to arrive far too soon. “I fuck you so well, don’t I, Honey?”

“Mm…” she whimpers, pushing the toy deeper and further into her. “Your cock’s so big… fills me up so well. Feels so good!”

“You have no idea how good I could make you feel,” Anakin growls. In his mind she’s on her back, just as she is now. Her knees are pushed up to her ears and Anakin is thrusting into her tight hole to no end. He’s so deep, he can see himself in her stomach. He kisses her, finally tasting her on his own lips. Their tongues are doing a dance, his fingers are on her clit for maximum pleasure. And she’s screaming his name. She can’t believe how good he fucks. How he, at 42 years old, can last as long as he has. “I’m not fucking geriatric,” he’d say. He’d make her cum at least twice before he does, just to prove a point.

Honey then takes the dildo out of her cunt and brings it back up to her mouth. Anakin removes the Fleshlight. She hollows her cheeks around it whilst reaching for the vibrator. She turns it back on and returns it to her clit. Her toes curl at the sensation and a moan is muffled by the cock in her mouth.

“Let me hear you,” Anakin encourages, no matter how silly and pointless it is to do so. “Please, Honey. I love hearing you moan.”

She takes the dildo out of her mouth to announce that she’s going to cum. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!”

She’s squirming on the bed, mouth shaped in that glorious ‘O’. As her orgasm rattles through her body, she keeps the vibrator on her swollen nub and returns the dildo to her pussy. Anakin follows suit and sheathes his cock once again, thrusting his hips up to the speed Honey is fucking herself.

“I hope you…fuck, that feels good,” she is interrupted by her own pleasure. It’s her authenticity that Anakin adores and enjoys the most. It never feels like she’s performing. “I hope you’re making yourself feel as good as I feel. Are you fucking your hand? Your mattress? A pillow? I bet you wish you were in my tight cunt. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Anakin breathes. He is on fire now. He’s not sure the coil in his belly could get any tighter. He’s going to cum soon and Honey hasn’t even squirted yet. There’s five minutes left of the video. “You wouldn’t believe—ah, fucking hell— wouldn’t believe how badly I want to fuck you.”

“I’m gonna squirt! Oh my God…please cum for me. Cum while I squirt for you!” Honey removes the dildo as the clear liquid sprays from her cunt. Anakin abandons the Fleshlight and takes over with his tried and true hand. He’s pumping quickly, he’s mesmerized by Honey and how she squirts a little more each time she puts the dildo back inside of her and pulls it back out. Her back is arching off of the bed as she drops both toys and cums one last time.

Anakin is cumming now, too. His sack twitches up toward him while he releases his load on his belly. He stuffs a fist into his mouth to silence his moan. He bites down on his own hand with fervor, and it hurts. He isn’t completely finished when he hears her utter the words ‘last video.’

Wait, what?

He needs to go back. Surely, he didn’t hear her correctly.

“I hope you all enjoyed yourselves while watching. I know I did. This is a bit of a last hurrah for me. I’m starting a new job next week and I just don’t think I’ll have the time to upload, so this might be my last video. Thank you for all of the support over the last three years. I had a great time. Kisses, HoneySuckle.”

And that’s the end of it. Anakin is stunned. He watches her video again. And then once more. There's a lilt to her voice that makes Anakin think she is happy to be done with this. He should be happy for her. But he hangs onto the word ‘might’.

Honey said this might be her last video. Anakin shouldn’t feel so fucking relieved that his favorite OnlyFans performer might still upload videos. What is wrong with him? He has no real connection to her whatsoever yet he feels disappointed by the idea of not having her videos in his life anymore.

Fuck it. He sends her a $500 tip, a little message and goes to wash up.

Panini is pressed against your side, purring contentedly while you stroke his back absently. You’re wrapped in a sherpa cozy in bed while watching The Great British Bake Off. It’s your bedtime show. You’ve probably seen every series at least 3 times, simply because it’s the show you put on to go to sleep. But most of the time, you end up staying up to watch it as if you’ve never seen it before.

Your phone lights up with a notification. You glance at it but immediately do a double take. You grab your phone off of your nightstand and stare at the screen with your jaw dropped.

Skyguy81 sent you a tip!

$500

You pause in the middle of Prue Leith giving her thoughts on someone’s Showstopper. You swipe right to open the message.

That was spectacular, Honey. From the lingerie to the beautiful way you cum. You certainly know how to put on a show. I must admit, I was a bit disappointed to hear that it might be your last video. You are the only performer I watch. I will miss you. I wish you the best of luck with your new endeavor.

And I know what you are going to say. “It’s too much.” It is not. Please accept the tip as a token of my appreciation. You helped me feel less lonely on the days I needed someone the most. - Sky

Why do you feel like you’re about to cry? Sky has been your top supporter since you began uploading videos during COVID. It was just supposed to be a way to make ends meet. To pay off the student loans and any other financials that came up. The tips started off relatively small. $50 here, $75 there. He was the first to give you a $100 tip.

Then, after about a year, he upped it to $200 after each video. Your thank you messages to him turned into conversations. Short ones, never deep or personal, yet you feel like you know him. You feel like…no, it’s silly. You feel like he could be a friend. If you both weren’t hiding behind a screen and fake names, maybe you actually could be.

You begin typing a response.

Sky- I am going to say it anyway. THAT IS WAY TOO MUCH!!! You have been far too generous to me over the years. I don’t deserve it.

He replies in a matter of seconds.

I have to disagree, Honey. I wish I could do more for you.

Like what?

I would take you out to a nice dinner. Perhaps share a bottle of wine while we get to know each other.

Would you take me home after?

Whose home?

Whichever you’d like.

I’d take you back to your house and leave you with a goodnight kiss.

That’s all?

You would like more?

What the hell are you doing? Are you actually flirting with this man? He could be 60 years old and bald! Not that there’s anything wrong with being 60 or bald, but come on. You’re in your 20s. You have to have some limit. You stare at his username. Skyguy81. Maybe 81 is his birth year? So, that would put him at 42. 42 isn’t too bad…

Oh, what the hell. It’s not like you’re actually gonna meet this guy, right?

Well, I might wear something special underneath my dress. Something that I paid for with the money you’ve given me. Wouldn’t you want to see it?

Yes. I would.

What would you do if you took me home?

When you don’t hear back from Sky after thirty minutes, you assume he fell asleep. It is nearly 1 a.m. on a Thursday night. Or is it early Friday morning? Regardless, he probably has work in the morning.

With a rather loud yawn, you decide it’s time for you to go to sleep, too.

Luke and Leia barge into Anakin’s room at 7:30, dressed and ready to go to school while their dad is still fast asleep. He must have slept through his alarm. Luke is poking him in the side and urging him to wake up.

“Alright, I’m up,” he grumbles, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Have you two eaten?”

Leia nods. “Eggos and orange juice.”

“I wanted a Toaster Strudel,” Luke says.

“And I told him we don’t have any Toaster Strudels,” replies his twin sister.

“Yes we do! You just didn’t look hard enough.”

Anakin pinches the bridge of his nose. He feels a headache coming on. He didn’t drink last night, so why does he feel hungover? “Ahsoka ate the last one when she was here on Tuesday, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Luke recalls.

“Dad, we’re gonna be late for school if you don’t get out of bed,” Leia says.

Anakin checks the time on his phone. Your message from last night is at the bottom of his notifications. He already has five work emails to answer. His calendar pings with reminders about meetings and his assistant’s retirement party. “Bring your things to the front door. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

In the rush of getting himself dressed, not only does he put on two different pairs of socks but two different pairs of shoes, too. He doesn’t realize this until after he enters the office and Dorothy, attentive as ever, points it out as he’s walking past her desk and into his office.

Dorothy is 74 years old, a widow, and owl fanatic. She has been Anakin’s assistant since he started the company 20 years ago. “Did you get dressed in the dark, Mr. Skywalker?”

Even after two decades of Anakin’s insistence on calling him by his first name, Dorothy continues to defy him. “I overslept,” Anakin answers. “I was rushing to get ready because you know how Leia gets when she’s late to anything.”

Dorothy nods. “Yes, she is the most punctual 9 year old I know. I presume you did not eat breakfast.”

“No, I didn’t.” Anakin opens his emails.

“Why don’t I get you an egg sandwich from Dexter’s after I retrieve a matching pair to one of your shoes.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Anakin cracks a smile. Dorothy has always been two steps ahead of Anakin. She’s been somewhat of a mother figure to him over the years. She believed in him when no one else did. How many people are going to put their faith in a cocky 22 year old with wild engineering innovations? Dorothy was there when his wife passed away and nannied the twins off and on for a few years while Anakin regained his bearings. His heart contracts. He is truly going to miss her. “Do you have to retire, Dorothy?”

“I’m afraid so,” Dorothy replies with a bittersweet smile. “You will be just fine. And I trust my successor will attend to your needs just as well as I have. I picked her myself. I know exactly what you need in an assistant, Mr. Skywalker.”

Did Dorothy just wink at Anakin before leaving his office? What the hell does she have up her sleeve?

Gold and brown leaves dance across the concrete in the courtyard of Skywalker Enterprises. The autumn air bites at your cheeks and you’re thankful you decided to wear a beanie along with your plaid pea coat.

You notice Dorothy’s silver hair before the rest of her as she walks toward you with two cups of something hot in her hands. “Good morning, Y/N.” she hands you the cup.

“Good morning, Dorothy,” you reply with a smile. You lift off the lid to smell the contents. The steam tickles your nose before recognizing the warm spices of Chai. “You remembered my drink order?”

“Of course.” Dorothy sits across from you. “I trust you went over the files I sent you regarding Mr. Skywalker? How are you feeling about the job?”

You take a meager sip of your Chai latte. It’s still too hot to drink. “I read all of them at least three times. He doesn’t seem too high maintenance.”

“Far from it,” Dorothy replies.

“But…” you begin, wondering if you should even mention it.

“What is it, dear?”

“I just find it a little strange that I haven’t met him. I would’ve assumed he’d be part of the hiring process. Isn’t it important we get along?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Anakin gets along with everyone! He’s a charmer,” Dorothy sips on her drink. “He entrusted me with finding a replacement for myself because I know him better than anyone. I know his needs better than he knows them. And you, my dear, have shown you are more than capable to take over. Your references spoke very highly of you.”

Right. Your references— one of which was your best friend who pretended to be a famous influencer who you “assisted” for 2 years after college. The other was a family you nannied for for only 2 weeks while the wife was out of town and the dad thought he could pull off some fantasy of fucking the nanny. The only good thing that came out of it was him telling you he’d give you a stellar reference for your next job. Turns out he wasn’t lying.

“So, I’ll start on Monday? By myself? No shadowing or anything?”

Dorothy nods. “I will officially be retired by 5 p.m. today. After which, Mr. Skywalker is yours.”

Don’t you wish. You’ve seen photos of him in Forbes. It’s an understatement to say he’s handsome. And it would be a lie to say you didn’t apply for the job because of his looks. By some miracle you were chosen out of hundreds of applicants and hired. You’ve signed the papers already. You’re officially on the Skywalker Enterprises payroll. Of course, you’ll be on probation for 90 days but Dorothy seems confident you’ll be a good fit.

Hopefully you will live up to Anakin Skywalker’s expectations.

remember to reblog and leave comments to support authors!

◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter two

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x f!reader #anakin skywalker fan fiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker imagine #dilf!anakin skywalker #dilf!anakin #dilf anakin skywalker #modern!anakin skywalker #modern anakin skywalker #as fate would have it

848 notes · View notes

bettyfrommars · 10 months

Note

I need to know what you think about finding a dark siren Eddie Munson. Maybe he got hurt and washed up on the shore? You’re immediately his mate and he loves you very much even though he’s never been near a human. Very much I hate everyone but you vibes for our bloodthirsty friend.

Boyfriend From the Deep

darkSiren!Eddie x Reader

darkSiren!Eddie art here and here

Blurb 1

Blurb 2

18+ONLY, smut, some monsterfuqqing, mention of gore, mention of throwing up, visit from Murray & Hopper, mention of reader's life not going well, AFAB Reader, love at first sight, soulmates, merman!Eddie. wc: 3k

A/N: Another request I was really excited to sink my teeth into. My hope is to continue this eventually, taking inspiration from the 1984 film Splash. Looking forward to what y'all think of darkSiren!Eddie, thank you for indulging me.

---------

Eddie choked and coughed as the wave crashed over him, forcing his eyes open with a gargled gasp. He was pinned up against a rocky ledge, half of his body on the sand and the other half in the frigid water. All of a sudden, he felt sick, and began retching clear bile into the sea. He didn’t like breathing the air, he wasn’t used to it, and it caught in his throat like a feather–tickling—until he coughed and retched again. The gills on the sides of his neck sputtered, flapping open like vents, drying out, trying to conform to the new way of breathing.

It was then that he became aware of the dull ache at the back of his head, and with trembling fingers, he reached back to test the spot with a cringe and a hiss. He checked to find that his fingertips were bloody; he must’ve knocked his head on one of the sharp rocks during the transformation. How badly was he wounded? Would be a shame to survive the journey to human form only to die on the beach and rot like a bloated fish.

He braced his hand, fingers digging into the sand, and flicked his hips to swish his tail to get him unstuck, but then two legs kicked out from his hips, stuck in a fisherman’s net, and it startled him, making him slam his head into the rock again. He winced, eyes squeezing shut, whimpering a bit at the sting of the impact as the saltwater splashed up to his knees and misted his face.

This was Eddie’s first time back to land in over a decade. Mostly because he loathed humans. He loved to lure them to their deaths, he loved to watch from under the water as their ships sank so that he could feed on their fear, curling the sound waves of their screams into his belly like sweet nectar.

He twisted, trying to be free of the rough ropes that cut into his skin, but he was weak, and he wasn’t sure how much blood he’d lost. He was stuck there now, for 7 days and 7 nights, and he thought maybe he’d just find a way to stay hidden…

….until he saw you.

It was rare for you to be up at the crack of dawn, unless it was due to the fact that you hadn’t slept at all, which was a regular occurrence. Long, restful sleeps that lasted hours were just a myth to you, ever since you’d watched your life go down the toilet. A breakup, a death in the family, getting fired from your job; all of it happened all at once, and you were still reeling, teetering at the edge of the abyss.

You were all alone in the world, but for your dog, Louie, and the modest cottage you were renting for a week off the Oregon coast. The beach house was tucked back in the woods, and it didn’t even have a TV, so flipping it on to watch the early morning broadcast or some cartoons to relax your brain was not an option. The radio would have to do, and the first song that came on when you flipped the dial was Brandy by Looking Glass. You hummed along to it as you plucked Louie’s leash off the sofa and attached it to his collar. He was a medium, handsome, mixed-breed boy that you’d rescued from the side of the road as a puppy. Part corgi, part border collie, part…dalmatian? You weren’t entirely sure.

“He came on a summer's day

Bringin' gifts from far away

But he made it clear he couldn't stay

No harbor was his home

The sailor said, ‘Brandy, you're a fine girl

What a good wife you would be

But my life, my love, and my lady is the sea”

It was exceptionally chilly for an August morning, making you bundle in a hoodie and boots for the trek out to the beach. Louie was practically foaming at the mouth to get out there for his run, and since your area of the beach was fairly secluded at that time of morning, you unhooked his leash where the dirt path met with the sand, and he bolted into the fog toward the ocean like a shot. There was a wet mist lingering in the air, like salty, seaweed-scented kisses that made you squint against the bright gray hues turning blue with the rise of the sun. A few seagulls squawked and swooshed overhead, diving down to perch on a large piece of driftwood, and you waved to them, as if they’d showed up just to say hello to you.

You faced the vast expanse of ocean and crashing waves with a mix of awe and defiance, challenging it silently with a lift of your chin. Your reverie was rudely interrupted by Louie’s alarm bark, somewhere deep in the mist.

You followed the sound, walking blind until you caught sight of the jutting rocks at the base of a cliff, and the shrill of Louie’s distress signal was getting further away. Your feet picked up speed, stumbling for purchase in the soft, wet ground as you called for him, a bit of panic stroking your heart. Why did it feel like you were about to start crying? An avalanche of unfelt emotions gathered in your throat as you called for your loyal companion.

But there he was, finally, sitting facing the rocks, tail wagging side to side, making a fan-shape in the sand, basically ignoring you as you collapsed to one knee, cursing, clutching your chest.

You mumbled a whole conversation to him as you snapped the leash back in place and got to your feet. You tried to guide him in the other direction, but Louie was transfixed on something a few yards ahead, and it took your eyes a moment to adjust—but then you saw it. A hand, slightly webbed between the fingers, appeared from around the black rock, digging into the sand, and then another hand gripped the tan earth further along, as if someone were trying to pull themself along by their arm strength alone. The wrists were covered in jewelry that looked like they were made of shell and bone; the forearms tattooed in dotted, swirling black ink patterns.

You were too stunned to scream, mouth hanging agape. You urged Louie back to shield him with your legs. You saw the long, dark hair next, pooling over bare, tattooed shoulders; it was messy and unkempt, littered in bits of fauna and a few empty clam shells, one side matted with blood.

Before your brain could throw the alarm that this might be dangerous, you were already speaking. “A-are you alright? Do you need me to get help?”

That was when his head snapped up, and wide, all-white eyes regarded you with malice, lips curling back to expose a mouth full of pointed teeth. He growled at you, and Louie growled back, but then, after a second, the monster's face softened. The milk white eyes behind tendrils of hair shifted to brown, human irises, and he cocked his head a few times at you, as if trying to understand what you had just said.

You should have fainted.

You should have turned and run screaming in the other direction.

But, for some reason, neither one of those even occurred to you.

You came around to get a better look at him, down along where the water lapped at your boots, and took in the rest of his body; he was tangled up in a crude net from the waist down. He wore a necklace that appeared to be made of intricate fish bones and coral, and shark tooth earring dangled from his ear. The tattoo patterns ran all along his chest, stomach, and legs. You released Louie’s leash, and he sat right where he was told, while you crouched down to meet Eddie’s curious gaze that never strayed from you.

“Will you let me help you?” You asked.

Eddie was in love.

He never believed the stories he’d been told about the imprinting and immediate bonding that happened when you met your mate. He wasn’t just any Merman, he was a Siren, and as a soldier of the dark forces of the sea, he figured he didn’t have time for frivolous things like romance.

But this took no time at all.

You were meant to be his, and he didn’t care who he had to kill to keep you.

He studied your face as you worked to free the wet knot of seaweed tangles on the net, freeing his thighs from the heavyweight, gasping and averting your eyes at the way your touch made his cock twitch and swell. You helped him to sit up, noticing what appeared to be gills on his throat and sides along his ribs. His flesh was similar to that of a human, but also not. It had a thick, rippled texture, like the belly of a snake, and it seemed to glow with a soft blue fluorescence. His muscles were tight and lean, and he didn’t even bother to shiver as a cold wind made your teeth chatter.

You told him your name as another seagull cawed overhead, and asked what you should call him.

His eyebrows clenched together, tilting his head a few times, watching your mouth as you spoke.

“Do you speak English?” You asked it in a cringe way, with a loud voice, as if a higher volume could break any language barrier.

He brought his webbed hand up to touch your face, and you jerked away at first, but then you let his scaled knuckles graze your cheek, the legs of your jeans soaking wet now as you knelt there with what could only be described as a figment of your imagination.

He spoke a word in foreign language, his voice a deep whisper. You remembered how solid white his eyes had been before when he thought you were a threat, but now they were honey brown, almost cat-like in nature as they softly adored you.

“I-I don’t understand,” you breathed, unable to comprehend the time it took for his mouth to find yours, to plant wholesome kisses, to taste you.

You might’ve been in love with him at that moment too, but your jaded heart refused to let yourself believe it.

You did, however, feel the arousal blossom at your core as his tongue fluttered against yours, whimpering with a little click in his throat like a sea lion at the way you returned his kiss.

The urge to mate you, to officially make you his, was too strong for Eddie to take into regard any of the formalities of courtship. Once your hand found his generous girth and began to stroke, encouragingly, that was all it took.

You skittered backwards up onto the semi-dry sand, unzipping your jeans and pushing them down to your ankles as you went, and Eddie followed, bracing himself on top so he wouldn’t crush you, desperate to find your mouth again. His powerful hips bucked against you, and you held him by the neck, begging for more while he spoke to you in that foreign tongue, staring into your eyes, willing you to understand him.

Wanting you to know that no one would ever love you as much as he did; that he would be your one and only mate until the darkness took you both.

The position felt awkward, but there was no time to take your boots off as your hole clenched the air, desperate to be filled. You spun around to get on your hands and knees, and Eddie buried his cock in your wet heat with one swish of his muscular thighs, throwing his head back in a bark of triumph.

You pushed back against him, needing him to move, to stretch you and own you with each push, your fingers clawing into the sand as you whined.

Nearby, Louie cocked his head and tried to lift one floppy ear, but then he turned his face to the sea, trying to give you some privacy.

You’d never been fucked by someone as strong as this sea monster, and your whole body jerked and vibrated under the impact of his deep thrusts. “Yesyesyes…oh fuck!”

It wasn’t long before Eddie clapped his pelvis flush to your ass and spilled inside of you, chanting foreign words, tilting his head to the sky, worshiping you with his offering. He stayed locked there for a while, working his seed deeper with every stroke. When he was done, he flipped you over with a feral urgency that sent sand into your eyes and nose, but you didn’t care, because now his mouth was on you.

Your fingers sank into his matted hair, and that was when you felt the viscous patch and remembered he was bleeding. His big, strong legs were a bit wobbly, and the thought occurred to you, for whatever reason, that he wasn’t accustomed to using them.

But then Louie was barking in the other direction, and you both turned your attention to see a figure appearing from out of the mist. A middle-aged man in a pageboy cap and a trench coat; he was already too close before you knew he was there, and he dropped the walking stick in his hand, his face frozen in shock and terror.

Eddie smelled the foul human approaching and the familiar bloodlust roared in his veins. The fin on Eddie’s back bristled as he rose to a crouch with a ferocious growl. You shuffled as far as you could against the rock, trying to pull your jeans up and cover yourself, not sure what to think of Eddie’s reaction.

Eddie bared his mouth full of sharp teeth in a sneer at the man, his eyes going completely white again. A storm seemed to hit the beach all of a sudden at Eddie’s command, dropping down a gust of wind that rocked the waves and sent the man stumbling off his feet as if the world tilted on its axis, trying to hold his hat on against the force of it. A low, rumbling wail came from somewhere deep in Eddie’s chest as you tried to shield your face from the whips of sand stabbing like tiny daggers in your flesh. Eddie appeared to be sucking the life out of the man from his distance; the human’s body lifted up in the air and bent back. You thought you heard something crack.

It was only a matter of seconds before the man crumpled to the ground, unresponsive, and then Eddie settled, and so did the air around him. After a few heartbeats, there were only the crashing waves and the birds once again, and Eddie’s head snapped to you, searching, making sure you were okay.

He held his arms out and you scrambled over, burying your head in the crook of his neck, letting him cage you, letting him have you.

Louie went over to sniff around at the man on the ground, wondering if he had any treats, and then he lifted his leg and let go of a stream of urine onto his shoe.

—-----

Murray Bauman slammed the paper onto Hopper’s desk, forcing a gust of wind into his face and a couple of yellow sticky notes to go flying.

Murray waited, hands on his hips, the door to the office wide open behind him. Hopper took a deep inhale and flicked a few bored glances from the cover of the Seaside Review back up to Murray’s severe expression.

“Is this your way of telling me you're taking a vacation?” He guessed, shifting back in his squeaky chair.

“This,” Murray jabbed his finger in the direction of the paper. “Is what I’ve been trying to tell you about.”

In the mood to humor his old friend, Hopper bent forward, furrowing his brow, taking a closer look at the headlines.

Murray continued, pacing in front of the desk as he did so. “Merpeople don’t exist? Well then, explain that to me.”

To the right, at the top of a long column and a sketch, was the headline: Reclusive artist survives a Siren attack on the beach and lives to tell: Merfolk exist.

Hopper cleared his throat. “This is a drawing, Murray.”

Murray stopped his pacing, inclining his head, adopting a sarcastic tone. “Notice anything familiar about that likeness, Jim? Does any part of it ring a bell? The white eyes, maybe? The teeth?”

“Sure,” Hopper picked the paper up and plopped it down, further away from him. “It looks like Elvis. Call The Inquirer.”

Murray flopped in a chair facing the Chief’s desk with a huff. He’d keep talking about it even if it fell on deaf ears because he knew he was right. “The migration of the Sirens. Enki, Poseidon, Amphitrite, the legend of the skin-shedding Merfolk who can walk on land for 7 days during a blood moon. Humanoids. Cannibals of the sea—-”

“Stop,” Hopper put his hand up palm out. “Just, stop. Is any of this supposed to make any sense to me? Why are you here? What have I done to deserve this?”

Murray rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, intertwining his fingers. “The drawing should look familiar to you, Jim, because it’s just like the one I saw when I was a teenager, and three summers ago when I was on that death-trap Alaskan cruise. I told you all about it. I told you that I was—-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper interrupted. “But again, I’ll ask—why are you coming to me with this? You think I’m going to arrest a fish?”

Murray rounded his shoulders. "I know that Sirens exist, Jim. There’s more than enough evidence out there, and I’m going to prove it to you, if not the world.”

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