#he's either really unlikable or has bursts of ''what the fuck is he doing?!''
Text
Listen... I really enjoy Wally's friendship with the original Titans, but I can't be the only one who thinks he's really OOC in almost every Titans related title, right?
#every once in a while I see someone who doesn't like Wally because their only contact with him is NTT or even just 90s/00s Titans and...#yeah???? completely valid#he's either really unlikable or has bursts of ''what the fuck is he doing?!''#and as a Roy fan it HURTS how fucking cruel he's to him#and I'm not saying Wally can't be an asshole (heavens knows he often is) but it just. Feels Different.#I dunno. I just kinda wish his interactions with the Titans were mostly the cameos they used to be cause imo that's where they're the best#or maybe you should be legally obligated to read at LEAST Waid's run before writing him in the Titans skajsk#I haven't read as much Titans as I should considering how many of them are some of my favorite characters but honestly this might be one of#the reasons. I just. Can't deal with their Wally most of the time#I'm sure there are exceptions and being OOC is an extremely complicated thing to say when it comes to comics but. Yeah.#I might delete this IDK#also!!! I do like to think that the Wally that was in NTT grew thanks to his relationship with Linda and Hartley and that's excellent#character development BUT 1) the point still stands 2) this also refers to Wally AFTER NTT so. Yeah.#wally west#flash#the flash#kid flash#dc#dc comics#queenlance post
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
synopsis: while gaming with your friends who live in your dorm, someone suggests something a little cynical and humiliating for the loser to do
tags: explicit, vulgar, m@sterbation on cam, 3some, penetration, oral
wrd cnt: 1.2k
a/n: repost/rewrite! (continuation)
The normal night for you and your friends after a brutual day of calculus was a quick game of whatever the three of you decided that night...and quick was a few hours.
The three of you lived in the same building, but it was more convenient to just game together on call.
Tonight it was rounds and rounds of "poker night 2".
"Can you hurry it up?" Scara says, waiting on Xiao
"You know..unlike you I actually look at my cards" Xiao replies, rolling his eyes in the webcam and smiling when he hears you chuckle.
"All I'm saying is, I didn't win for nothing last round."
"Beginners luck" You say, raising your eyebrows in question of his skill, earning a scoff from Scara.
The game went on for a while, and the three of you had the usual banter and laughter, which made the comments ahead a little... questionable.
"Xiao…...I swear to you if you win this round I'm going to bed and blocking you."
"Wanna bet on it, dick?"
"Of course you're thinking about dick" Scars jokes, in a mockerish tone making you burst out into laughter.
"You think about jerking off more than what's for lunch."
"So that's the bet tonight??" You say, not expecting what Xiao would say next.
"What so loser has to jerk off for the world to see?" Xiao says, the light of the monitor screen reflecting into his eyes in his dark room, as he waits for a joke in response.
"I'm down." You say, hearing Scara slightly sigh out a deep breath before agreeing alone with you.
Suddenly a game of poker had a lot more riding on it than some fake money.
Of course, in ironic fashion Scara is in a loosing streak and cursing loudly at every terrible hand that follows his incredible bluffs.
"I can hear you from the fucking CEILING. Calm down..." Xiao says.
It was down to either you or Xiao, Scara losing considerably already, so at least you saved yourself the embarrassment of losing the bet.
It was your turn at this point, and you decided to go all in; with a straight flush. No way you weren't going to win.
Xiao, in the lead, didn't need to win, he just needed you to lose.
You were confident in your choice....until you saw Scaras cards.
A royal, fucking, flush.
"Fuck" you breathe out. You saw your character icon drop down down to the number "0". Game over for you.
“You don’t have to actually y/n- it was just a joke.” Xiao mentions.
“Fuck off”, you yell, your competitive nature acting before thinking.
You dropped your pants and spread your legs over the arm rests, each leg on either side as you groaned in annoyance at your loss.
"Uh oh...someone's not so happy huh?"
"Shut the hell up..." You say, defeated and salty, so close to winning. "I-I won't let you win again you know...this is just a one time thing" You manage to spit out, deep sighs leaving your body as only your chest and below is left in frame, your fingers visibly rubbing your hard nipples through your tank top as you begin to pinch and rub your clit, before fingering yourself with only your panties to cover your pussy.
"Fuck..." Xiao whispers, barely making its way to your ears as his palm covered the lower half of your face.
"Heh....what a bunch of whores the two of you..." You say, whimpering as the sounds of your slick coating your fingers becomes more and more apparent, your throat pitching higher as you gasp and moan for release, hearing Xiao and Scaras voices get deeper with groans, the sound of them pumping their cocks to the sight of you and your arousal.
Was was meant to be just a joke was your downfall.
Soon after, you see the boxes that would be Scara and Xiaos names and faces turn to black, leaving you feeling guilty and really fucking desperate, did you do something wrong?
You didn't know what would come next, they were your only friends on campus after all.
Minutes that felt like hours passed, and a furious knock returned at the door, almost startling due to how vulnerable you were right now.
"Y/n...it's us." You heard from beyond the wall.
Familiar voices which made you even more nervous as you open the door, Xiao and Scara leaning their bodies against the door frame with animalistic looks plastered upon their countenance, cheeks blushed and eyes set low.
"What's wrong..." You asked, letting them slowly enter your room, dimly lit with just the computer screen illuminating the space that they'd seen just from the other side.
"What do you think?" Scara says, his hand finding your waist as he pushes you aside to close the door now behind you, pressing you against it.
"Tell us this is what you want to…isn't it?" Xiao says, his face so close to yours you're practically sharing the same breathes of air, feeling his warm hand on your side of your neck as he spoke.
It took you 2 good minutes of convincing with a makeout against the door and you were so easily stripped, and layed into bed, and in such vulgar positions.
Scara holding your hips behind him, and Xiao next to your head.
They already knew how they were going to fuck you, Scara, imaging it as he saw how you pleasured yourself; on your hands and knees with your ass in the air would give him a good look of his cock sinking into your tight little hole; the one you were riding on call.
Your hands gripped your own sheets tighter until your knuckles were lightened from how slowly he started to push his thick cock inside of you. Scara groaned, smacking a hand across your ass before reaching his hand down to rub your clit in circles like he watched you do on call.
"You like that? It looked so sexy when you did it for us. Made me so fucking hard..." He'd spout, feeling your cunt clench around him.
"I'm here too you know" Xiao says, his thumb toying with your bottom lip before it parts your mouth open, the tip of his cock allowed itself in as muffled moans from how Scara thrusted into you vibrate around his length, making him groan and throw his head back; pinching and tugging at your perky nipples from under you all the while.
"Fuck..you have suck a nice mouth y/n...."
"Don't get me started on her pussy..." Scara groaned, one hand gripping your hip with the other was wrapped in his hair, keeping it back as he fucked you so deep and full.
"You'll take me next, right y/n?" Xiao cried, his eye brows furrowed as he looks down to see your mouth wrapped around him, wet sounds of your pussy and the drool around his cock making sinful noises in symphony.
"Fuck fuck fuck....can I come inside y/n...please-god it’s too much”.
Scara groans, seconds away from painting your pussy white, looking to Xiao for your confirmation.
You urgently nod, needing to feel his cum inside you.
That's exactly what you got.
With one last thrust Scara held your hips close to his, emptying out his balls into you as Xiao did the same. Cum dripping out of your cunt and more going down your throat, both the men breathlessly grunting, pleasure taken over all three of you.
Maybe losing wasn't so bad after all?
whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
#jo’s posts#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#xiao#xiao smut#scaramouche#scaramouche smut#wanderer smut#xiao x reader#scara x reader
885 notes
·
View notes
Text
Golden Boy (Dani Rojas | Ted Lasso)
Summary — All Dani wants is your attention.
Warnings & Other Tags
➳ Fluff; co-workers to lovers; some canon-typical cursing (mostly from Roy); feigning excuses to see one’s love; Dani being Dani (a golden retriever); Roy being a frustrated, unintentional wingman; Reader is a physical trainer for AFC Richmond.
Notes
➳ Word Count is 1,735.
➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them).
➳ This work has a visual edit!
FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule
“He’s doing it again.”
Ted furrowed his eyebrows. His eyes sharpened beneath his dark sunglasses. Next to him, Roy and Beard had their attention focused on something other than the players on the training pitch. Nate was merely shaking his head. Ted, however, felt his face burst into a cheerful expression when he noticed what he gained their attention.
Across the pitch, Dani Rojas was very slowly going through some drills, weaving between some cones with an occasional limp as he gently kicked a ball. It would be very unlike him to be so subtle during practice, if he didn’t have his preferred audience, that is.
From the sidelines, you were watching him carefully. Your hands rested on your hips while your eyes were unwaveringly set on his left ankle. It was something he had been complaining to you about for a few days.
“That’s the third fucking time this week.”
Roy’s grumbles forced Ted out of his thoughts. He tilted his head and grinned, “Oh, c’mon, Roy! Don’t tell me you never had a crush someone? Dani’s just experiencin’ some classic symptoms of puppy love right now. I say we let this run its course.”
Ted ignored the way Roy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Even from the other side of the training pitch, it was easy to see how well you and Dani got along. Dani was always happy, of course, but whenever you came around, his smile had a tendency of becoming ten times brighter.
But what was good for Dani wasn’t always good for the team, much to Ted’s disappointment. Richmond’s happy-go-lucky striker had gone from Greyhound to Golden Retriever the moment he met you. And the fact that you were one of the team’s physical trainers didn’t help. You practically had Dani at your beck and call without even realizing it.
And Dani was either too shy to start a conversation without having an excuse for doing so prepared or he was genuinely turning into the biggest klutz on the team. After his ‘injuries’ began occurring on an almost daily basis, however, two things became clear.
The first being that, despite his sweet disposition and undeniable good nature, Dani Rojas was a damn good liar when he wanted to be. It had taken everyone weeks to see through his façade.
And you, who seemingly had no clue about Dani’s stunts, had officially become what was potentially the worst type of person in all of sports. The type that every locker room loathed and every coach feared. A distraction.
“Oi! Rojas!”
Ted jumped at the sound of Roy’s sudden angry shout. Despite being on the other side of the training pitch, Dani did as well. While Ted had become lost in his thoughts, Dani had stopped doing his drills altogether. Instead, he had moved to stand mere inches away from you, smiling brightly as he absentmindedly played with the hem of your shirt.
It was something you didn’t even seem to notice, but his teammates, along with Roy, certainly did.
“Get back to fucking practice!”
Ted watched as Dani bid you a quick, quiet farewell. He then scurried onto the pitch to join the rest of his team. If he had a tail, it would certainly be between his legs.
“Sorry, Coach!” he called, face flushing with embarrassment. “Let’s play, mis amigos!”
This was a small victory for Roy. He let out a satisfied grunt, watching with his hawk-like eyes as you quickly made yourself scarce. Ted, meanwhile, couldn’t help but give his fellow coach an exasperated stare. Beard tried to keep a smirk off his face while Nate simply shifted awkwardly.
“Really, Roy?” asked Ted. “Really?”
The man in question scoffed, furrowing his eyebrows with a scowl, “What? He’s back on the pitch, isn’t he? That’s where he’s meant to be! Not off chatting on the sidelines!”
Ted shook his head, quietly muttering, “Seems to me you just don’t want Dani to find true love.”
“Now wait just a fucking minute—!”
“Uh, guys,” said Beard, voice shaking, “hate to interrupt the friendly chat, but I think we’ve got a problem.”
It was then the other coaches realized what he was referring to. On the training pitch, Dani was on the grass, groaning loudly as he clutched his ankle.
“Oh, shit!” exclaimed Roy.
Each of them quickly ran onto the training pitch. Nate quickly grabbed his phone before following, ready to call for help if it ended up being an emergency.
The players had surrounded Dani, trying their best to help him. His face was twisted in pain. He curled into himself and rolled onto his side. Beard kneeled next to him, removing his sunglasses in order to get a clearer view of the situation.
“What’s going on, Rojas?” he asked. “What happened?”
“¡Ayúdame! Coach, please!” exclaimed Dani. “¡Mi tobillo! The right!”
Nate winced, “Do I need to call—?”
“Whistle! Whistle! Hold it!” shouted Roy, eyebrows sinking even deeper into his irritated expression. “I thought it was your left ankle that was fucking you up? Not the right?”
Even Dani himself paused at that. The chaos of the moment dimmed. He could see smirks growing on the faces of some of his teammates while others simply shook their heads and returned to practice.
“That’s it!” grumbled Roy, reaching down and roughly pulling Dani to his feet. “C’mon! We’re settling this shit right now!”
Ted glanced at both Beard and Nate, who each had concern written across their faces. Meanwhile, Roy was practically dragging Dani by the back of his uniform in the direction of the Richmond clubhouse. Ted grimaced at the sight, and muttered, “Why don’t you two stay here and watch the team? I’m gonna try to help ‘em sort this whole thing out.”
Before either of them could so much as blink, Ted had spun around to follow an angry Roy and a shaking Dani. His quick pace led him into the clubhouse. His footsteps echoed loudly as he did his best to catch up to the other two men.
Ted caught up just in time to witness Roy roughly opening the door to your office. It slammed against the wall so hard that Ted wouldn’t be surprised if there was a hole left behind.
You nearly wet yourself at the sudden scare. Your heart pounded within your chest. Adrenaline, along with complete and total confusion, flooded through your body as Roy forced Dani to stand in front of your desk. You hardly even noticed Ted watching the scene from the doorway, anxiously biting his nails.
“You’ve become a fucking problem,” glared Roy.
The disgusted expression that crossed your face nearly made Ted sick. Your lips curled and your eyes narrowed, “And you haven’t? You nearly ripped my door off, dickface!”
Roy paused, seemingly taking in your words as he stared at you. Finally, he grunted, “Look, we just need you to fix him.”
Your eyes followed in the direction he suddenly began pointing. When your gaze met Dani’s brown eyes, Ted and Roy noticed the way your glare softened.
“Dani, I told you this already,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I think your ankle’s fine. Just wrap it up and elevate it tonight with some ice, you’ll be good for the game—”
“He’s not injured,” interrupted Roy. “The team’s ‘golden boy’ here is a liar—”
“Okay!” exclaimed Ted. The look of displeasure once again blooming within your eyes gave him a reason to finally leap into the conversation. “Now, I don’t think Roy meant that in the way it sounded.”
Your shoulders seemed to lose their tension as he spoke. Instead of glaring at Roy, you gave your full attention to Ted. But honestly, Ted wasn’t sure if that was better or worse in their situation.
“We just think Dani’s got somethin’ to tell you about that ankle of his,” he continued, and then he gestured to the footballer in question. “Ain’t that right, Mr. Rojas?”
Dani, who had been admiring you from his place in front of your desk, froze when the three of you looked at him expectantly. He twiddled his thumbs at the sudden attention, “It is true. I have been lying to you, my friend, but I meant no harm by it. My reasons were innocent! ¡Prometo!”
Dani admired the confused expression that overwhelmed your features. You always looked so wonderful to him, no matter the emotion. He only hoped you wouldn’t be upset with him.
With an encouraging nod from Ted, he continued, “My ankle was never injured. I have been lying in order to, well... I only wanted to spend time with you. But my actions seem to have only brought frustration to my teammates. I am sorry.”
You tilted your head with a small smile when his voice trailed off. Leaning back in your chair, you chuckled, “Dani, you’re so sweet... but I already knew you were faking.”
“You did?!”
You blinked in surprise at the sound of all three men shouting in unison. They stared back at you in shock, though Roy in particular seemed to be feeling some irritation as well. You tried not to grin as Ted ripped off his sunglasses, eyes wide with disbelief. And the way Dani tightly gripped the edge of your desk, leaning forward with a dropped jaw, was also quite amusing.
“Uh, yeah! You footballers aren’t exactly what I would call subtle when it comes to flirting,” you shrugged, shaking your head at them. “Plus, Colin told me about it weeks ago when he came in for me to look at his shoulder. I’ve basically just been waiting for you to gather up enough courage to ask me out, but it seems like I’m gonna have to take the first step. So, Dani, why don’t you pick me up at seven?”
Ted had never seen someone look so happy. Dani smiled so excitedly, Ted thought he might put the sun out of business.
“Yes, yes!” exclaimed Dani, back to his usual enthusiastic attitude. “A million times yes! I will see you tonight! Oh, I cannot wait to tell mis amigos! Let’s go, coaches!”
He whooped and cheered loudly as he quickly left your office. Ted and Roy watched him leave. While Ted sported a wide, happy grin, Roy looked on in bewilderment. After a moment, however, he turned to you with yet another glare.
“You couldn’t have fucking done that sooner?!”
#2023#ted lasso#ted lasso imagine#ted lasso imagines#ted lasso x reader#dani rojas imagine#dani rojas imagines#dani rojas x reader#golden boy
541 notes
·
View notes
Text
Meet me in the afterglow
Jamie Tartt x f!reader
Words: 2,7k
Warnings: language, a bit of angst (with a happy ending this time)
A/n: part 2 for Tell me that I’m all you want 🫢
Jamie has never been more excited for the pre-season. The weather in London is delightful today, the sun is shining and the temperature is at that perfect level of warmth where it doesn’t feel too hot. He’s back at Nelson Road Stadium, right where he belongs. No funny business this year. Jamie’s smiling cheerfully as he’s walking down the very familiar corridors, holding a cup holder with two cups of coffee in his hand. He strides into your office, and you smile brightly at him, putting your work aside and giving Jamie your full attention. You happily slip back into your routine.
Jamie had barely seen you during the off-season. If you weren’t working, you were somewhere away with Jason. You’d been to, like, four different countries in five weeks, living your best life. Vacation definitely suits you – you look so radiant and well-rested. Your hair is wavier than usual, your skin is glowing, and your posture is relaxed. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?
“I’ve missed this,” you say after fifteen minutes of chatter and giggles, and Jamie grins at you. “Almost as much as I missed this,” you add, smugly bringing the coffee cup to your lips. Jamie rolls his eyes but laughs nevertheless. God, he missed this too.
The blissful happiness doesn’t last long. Jamie doesn’t care much about what people say on the Internet, even if it’s everyone predicting that Richmond will get relegated again because it’s just poop-eh, yeah?
But then there’s something else.
“Did you know that Roy and Keeley broke up?” Jamie all but burst into your office.
You mimic zipping your mouth and throwing away the key.
“Oh, come on!” Jamie flops on the chair in front of you and sighs dramatically.
You shrug, unaffected. “How’s Roy doing?”
“Well, I promised not to say anything either!” Jamie crosses his arms determinedly.
Jamie doesn’t know whether it’s a lawyer thing or just a you thing, but he’s pretty sure that one stern look from you can make him spill all of his deepest secrets. So, predictably, you just raise one eyebrow, and it’s enough convincing for him to start talking.
After a short conversation, you agree that it’s a sad turn of events because Roy and Keeley were really good together.
“You and Jason are good?” Jamie asks because it feels fitting. He’s somewhat made peace with the fact that you’re in love with someone else. As long as you’re happy.
“Yeah, we’re good,” you smile.
It only gets worse from there.
Jamie is in your office the first thing after he hears that Zava might be joining the team because if someone knew anything about signing a new player, that would be you. You say that it’s just something that Rebecca wants, but it is very unlikely to happen. That is, until it does.
“Who the fuck signs a contract with ‘you’re welcome’?!”
Usually Jamie doesn’t like it when you’re mad, but nothing is more comforting for him than knowing that he has your support in his disliking for Zava. He becomes almost a permanent resident at your office. Every day, it’s “Zava this” and “Zava that”. Reminds you of the time when Roy first rejoined Richmond as a coach and refused to coach Jamie…
On the upside, Richmond is on a four-week winning streak. Like Zava or not, you’ve gotta admit that he is a hella good player. Before you can even finish that sentence out loud, the look on Jamie’s face is one of full-on betrayal. You roll your eyes, the fragile male ego.
“At least I'm still your favorite player,” Jamie declares self-assuredly.
“I'm sorry, at what point did I ever say that you are my favorite player?” you sneer at him, crossing your arms.
“It’s implied!”
“Aah,” you nod in faux agreement.
“So who is it then? It can’t be Zava.” Jamie will jump off a cliff.
“Lewandowski.”
Jamie shrugs, “Fair enough, he’s fucking great. I can be second after him.”
“See, that’s funny, because I don’t remember saying that you’re my second favorite either,” you say with an amused smile on your face.
“Oh, fuck off!”
Things haven’t been going really well for Richmond ever since that match against West Ham, they haven’t won a match for four weeks now. Needless to say, it was a little bit depressing. There is something else bothering Jamie, though. You’ve been acting weird lately, distant. You weren’t at the match last week, you told Jamie you couldn't hang out twice in one week, and when the third time you finally agreed, it seemed like your mind was somewhere else the whole evening. He gets that you want to spend time with your boyfriend, but Jamie wants some scraps of your time too! It takes you hours to reply to his texts, and even when he comes to your office during the day, it feels like even having a simple conversation with Jamie costs you effort. You just seem tired in general.
Jamie has been quietly sitting in your office for five minutes, waiting for you to finish whatever it is you are so busy doing. Not knowing what to do, he takes your coffee cup and takes a sip.
He grimaces in disgust. “What is this?!”
“Triple espresso,” you answer without looking away from your laptop.
No milk, no syrups, no joy, nothing.
“That’s disgusting.”
“Then don’t drink it,” you snatch the cup back.
“Not getting enough sleep?” Jamie smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at you.
The look on your face just screams that you don’t find it funny one bit and can’t wait to be done with this conversation.
Jamie’s shoulders slump, “Are you mad at me?”
“For what, hurting my coffee’s feelings?”
“I don’t know! But you’ve been acting weird! You always say you’re busy, you don’t reply to my texts, you don’t make fun of my outfit choices, and I wore a jacket with shorts yesterday.”
“The fact that you know that it’s something I would make fun of you for means that my job here is done.”
“It was raining for the whole day two days in a row, and you didn’t even complain!”
“It’s London, it’s always raining.”
“And you always complain!” He’s got a point there.
Jamie looks genuinely worried, and you didn't mean to upset him at all. You sigh weary. “It’s not you. It’s just– I needed some me-time.” Jamie keeps looking at you, waiting for you to continue. “Jason and I broke up.”
Well, that was unexpected. Jamie doesn’t really know what to say. His previous attempt at post-breakup comforting wasn’t exactly successful.
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” you say apathetically. “Sometimes people are just not right for each other.”
“I thought you guys were great.”
“Yeah, me too,” there’s a very bittersweet tone to your voice.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Jamie gets the hint. There’s only one thing that he wants to know anyway. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” That doesn’t sound very convincing even for yourself, and judging by Jamie’s skeptical look, it doesn’t for him either. “I will be,” you rectify, feeling a lot more sincere now.
His own selfish feelings aside, Jamie never really wished for you and Jason to break up (well, maybe except for the first, like, two weeks), and with you clearly being upset about it, Jamie doesn’t have it in him to feel pleased or hopeful about the fact. What you need right now is a friend, and that’s exactly what he’s going to be.
It’s fascinating how healing a good girls night can be because a week and two hours of screaming Taylor Swift songs later, you were terribly hungover but feeling like a whole new person. Luckily for you, your boss was one of the said girls, so after lunch, the two of you decided that there was no work that required your immediate attention and was worth all that suffering and, with a clear conscience, went home.
The loss against Man City was pretty bad. Especially considering that Zava left the team. And the sport in general… Jamie wasn’t so upset about this, but you weren’t particularly excited about all the paperwork that it left you with. Richmond hadn’t won a match in nine weeks, which was pretty discouraging too. You even invited Jamie for dinner after another lost match to cheer him up a little bit.
Then finally, a miracle happened, and Ted “came up” with some “total football” thing, which, once they had figured it out, seemed to work really well for the team. After they won a match again for the first time, Jamie invited you for a celebratory dinner, on which he cheated because he ordered takeout instead of cooking. You didn’t really mind, though, because Jamie’s cooking abilities are limited to a short list of dishes that he can make himself and a bit longer list of dishes that he can make if you tell him what to do, and you didn't feel like playing Nigella.
Richmond is on a winning streak, and the team’s spirit is exceptionally high. Jamie has been on his best game too, which he can admit that he has Roy to thank for, because he is mature like that now. Life has been really good lately.
The practice is over, and Jamie’s on his way to go and pester you when he bumps into Keeley in the hallway.
“Jamie!” She doesn’t appear to be as surprised to see him. “Walk with me.” She wraps her arm around his and starts leading him down the hall.
“You know that (Y/n) helps me out with the legal stuff in the firm, right?”
“Yeah.” Jamie’s not sure where this is going.
“So yesterday I asked her to come to this meeting with me ‘cause we were signing with that one guy. And he had his lawyer with him too, and he was, like, really hot. The lawyer, not the guy. And he was totally into (Y/n) too. I didn’t even know you could make legal terms sound so sexy…”
Keeley glances at Jamie, who resembles a kicked puppy at the moment. “I’m telling you all of this because you better put your big boy pants on and ask her out before somebody else does. Again.”
Jamie doesn’t even feel like asking how and how long she’s known, he just nods at her, and she gives him that sweet smile of hers and leaves.
It’s been almost three months since you and Jason broke up. Jamie’s been more than happy to be the one you spend your free time with again, and he’s been content with how things are between you enough to not want to risk it. He hasn’t seen you being really interested in someone anyway, but he’s seen people being interested in you. Evidently, it was just a matter of time before someone caught your attention too.
Jamie goes directly to your office, and the first thing that he notices is a big bouquet of flowers on your desk. Jason stopped renewing them a few weeks after your breakup, so it’s gotta be from someone else.
“Nice flowers,” Jamie announces his presence in the room. “Who are they from?”
“Just some guy I met at Keeley's meeting yesterday,” you say noncommittally.
So it is him. “Why is he sending you flowers?”
“Well, I don’t know for sure, but my guess is that he wants to ask me out.” You look pleased.
It’s now or never. “Don't go out with him,” he blurts.
You frown. “What?”
“Don’t go out with him,” he repeats with more conviction this time. “Go out with me.”
You contemplate him for a moment. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” Jamie hadn’t really thought it through.
“Just let it go, Jamie,” you say insistently.
“The fuck I will!” There’s no going back now. “I want this. You.” That comes out a bit desperate.
“Right,” you scoff.
Now it’s Jamie’s turn to frown, “What?”
“For fuck’s sake, Jamie!” Even with your patience, there's a limit. “You only wanted me ‘cause you couldn’t fucking have me, which is somehow even worse than if you never wanted me at all.” You glower at him. “And now again. I’m not some fucking trophy for you to want just because someone else does!”
Jamie is completely stunned, just sitting there with his mouth open, not being able to come up with a single sensible thing to say.
Your attention turns to Higgins peeking through the door frame, “(Y/n), I need your help with something.” You have never been more grateful to see him.
“I’ll be right with you,” you nod at him, smiling. He reads the room and decides not to wait on you here.
When Higgins disappears from your view, you turn back to Jamie, “We have a good thing here. Let’s not ruin it.” With that, you get up and walk away.
You haven’t seen Jamie since your little talk yesterday. This is probably for the better because you needed some space after everything. You’re done with your work for the day, but instead of going home, you’re sitting in one of the thousands of seats at the empty stadium, staring at nothing in particular and a lot going on in your mind. The sunset is absolutely stunning today. The sky is colored with all kinds of shades of red, orange, and pink, illuminated beautifully by the afterglow of the sun.
You see in your peripheral vision that someone is walking towards you, and the clashing colors of the clothes that someone is wearing are enough for you to know exactly who this is.
Jamie takes the seat next to you. You just sit there in silence for a minute before he finally speaks up.
“You were wrong, you know,” he starts softly. “I’ve always wanted you. It’s only when I couldn’t have you that I realized it. I’m sorry I was an idiot. Shouldn’t have taken me so long.”
You keep staring forward, so he continues.
“You are not a trophy, but you are my best friend. It means more to me than you know, and I didn’t wanna risk losing it. But then Keeley told me about that guy, and I thought I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t say something.”
You finally turn to look at him. Jamie’s looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his, which makes it’s impossible to be mad at him. You give him a small smile. “You wouldn’t lose me.” He smiles too.
It gives Jamie the courage that he’s been looking for, and he gently takes your hand in both of his. “Give me a chance. Just one date. And if you hate it, I swear I’ll never bring this up ever again.”
You study him for a moment, and his eyes look so hopeful. “Alright, Jamie Tartt,” you smile at him. “Make it worth my while.”
Winning the last match of the season, Richmond finishes the season in second place. Not bad for a Premier League comeback. Today’s celebration is Ted’s last day with the team. He sure as hell will be missed, but today is not about sad farewells – it’s about appreciating the people around you and everything that awaits you in the future.
Ola’s is filled with music, laughter, and joy. Jamie looks around the room: Dani is having a drinking contest with Beard, Richard and Jan Mass are having a passionate debate about something, Ted is spinning Rebecca in the rhythm of Never Gonna Give You Up, surrounded by Keeley and the rest of the players cheering and dancing next to them. Like one big and very happy family.
Jamie is pulled out of his thoughts by the movement in front of him and the sound of glasses being put on the wooden table. Then you pull him up by his arm and start dragging him with you towards the dancing crowd with a carefree smile. Jamie eagerly takes your hand in his and lifts it above you, making you twirl. You laugh and give him a quick kiss on the lips. Life has never been better.
A/N: did i sneak in the name of the songs in the most literal corniest way? yes, and what about it.
308 notes
·
View notes
Note
I saw your last one shot with Taehoon and it's really cool, i like it a lot. could you write something with seong taehoon x fem reader, something soft where he is in middle school and he is in love with reader but they are not dating maybe before he met Do Woon or during their friendship(
Nothing.
A/N: saw the word "soft", couldn't reject
Pairing: Taehoon Seong x F!Reader
Themes: A lot more dialogue than usual, a little less language as well. :)
Sunny skies, chirping birds, the fresh air, the indistinct chattering of the students fill the hallways - You happily skid your way past classrooms, feeling like everything is aligning perfectly.
That is until, Taehoon steps in front of you with a scowl. You might be wondering what’s exactly got him so riled up. Though you know he's unlikely to spill if you ask, it doesn't hurt to try, especially when it's you.
”What’s gotten you in such a pissy mood?” You inquire, noting the tension in his expression on his oh-so-handsome face.
Gosh, how long you could stare at his kissable lips, ruffle with his hair and—
”I’m not in a pissy mood.” He retorts, followed by a faint “hmph”.
Yup. He’s definitely pissed.
Without warning, he grabs your arm and drags you to the library.
”Ugh! What’s with you today?”
You try to shove him away, but Taehoon is immovable as ever.
”Nothing.”
It’s definitely not nothing, particularly when he's unusually clingy, like a child seeking protection from his mother. Sure, he’s probably got mommy issues, but it isn’t this bad to the point he’s looking for a substitute.
Anyway, you aren’t a mind reader. So you’re not gonna stop being an inquisitive bitch until you get an answer. But before you can even voice your thoughts, Taehoon starts muttering.
”Remember the guy you helped when some twerps were bothering him?” He asks, avoiding your gaze.
You take a moment to recall the incident he's referring to, realizing soon enough who he means.
”Uh-huh. That guy from class E, I think? What about him?”
A heavy silence fills the air. Taehoon struggles to find the right words to express what's bothering him. You raise a brow, awaiting an explanation while he still struggles to speak. For about 15 seconds, he keeps his grip on your arm, though it gradually loosens when he finally speaks up again.
”He wants to ask you out.”
He finally mutters, seeming to realize that his own feelings aren't really relevant to the situation.
You take a moment to absorb his words before playfully smacking him on the cheek, causing him to flinch at your unexpected action.
Are you… teasing him?
"Is that why you looked so pissed today?” You ask with a chuckle.
“Are you jeal-”
”No.”
He bluntly replies, but his flushed face says so otherwise.
”Ugh, then why are you so troubled with the fact that he wants to ask me out?”
”I’m just, well…”
It's not like Taehoon has any right to be angry. After all, he spends most of his time with you, whether it's training in the dojang, playing Tekken at the arcade, or even the occasional sleepovers you both have. There's hardly a moment when you're apart, which might just stem from his internalized fear of being separated from you.
He's worried.
So worried, in fact, that the thought of having to let go of you terrifies him, consuming his thoughts entirely, that it’s probably inevitable that detatching himself from you is his only option.
”Forget it, just let me know when you’re going.” He finally concedes, his tone resigned.
Knowing Taehoon, it's either A.) he'll "casually" follow you during your date to "ensure your safety," or B.) the date won't happen at all. He won't fucking allow it. He won’t let it. No, not ever.
He releases your arm with a weary sigh, about to turn and leave, when you burst into laughter uncontrollably.
”Pfffft!\~ You’re so pathetic sometimes, y’know? How hard is it to admit that you’re jealous?”
”I am not!”
”You are\~”
You tease, a grin spreading across your face.
”Tch, whatever.”
He grumbles, unable to hide the slight flush creeping up his neck.
——
When you return to your classroom, a note sits on your desk, undoubtedly from the guy Taehoon mentioned. It reads, "Please meet me at the school gym after break.” the penmanship even better than yours and Taehoon’s combined.
”You’re not planning on going out with him, are ya?”
Taehoon asks, slyly slinging his arm around your shoulder.
”What do you think my answer will be?”
You reply smugly, pulling him closer.
”Das for you to tell me. What will it be?”
”Hmm, I dunno—”
”Oh, come on.”
Taehoon rolls his eyes in half-disbelief.
Soon enough, you make your way to the gym with Taehoon by your side. There's a bit of bickering and some comments from him about how it's a waste of time to go out with a schoolmate you barely speak to, suggesting it would be better to train with him instead.
As you spot the guy, Taehoon follows closely behind. You turn to face him, silently mouthing a "what" as he stays glued to your side.
”Dude, we need a moment.”
You whisper-shout, but he only rolls his eyes.
”Okay, fine. But if he does something wrong, just signal me and I won’t hesitate to jump him, kick his ass, ruin his life, fuck him up so bad- no, I don’t mean fuck fuck, but like ruin his life to the—”
And with that, you leave Taehoon behind, sighing hopelessly as he wonders if he'll ever muster the same courage as the boy confessing to you now. But for now, it seems like an impossible feat.
He watches from a distance, his expression stoic as he observes the bashful interaction between you and the boy.
”Fuck, maybe I am jealous.”
Taehoon grumbles, his lips pressing together tightly as his thoughts consume him.
What if he isn’t enough for you? What if his personality is a bit too much to handle? What if you really went out with someone else who isn’t- Taehoon? What if deep down, you know his feelings for you but you only decide to ignore because you’re not exactly sure how to reject him?
”What if—?”
"Taehoon, let's go."
You interject with a smile, breaking his train of thought. He stares back blankly as you inquire;
"You alright?”
A part of him—no, every fiber of his being wishes you had rejected the boy. He doesn't want you with anyone else. It's selfish, he knows, but he's unwilling to let you slip away, unwilling to waste a moment he can't spend with you. Fucking cringy as it may sound, it's the truth.
”What did you tell him?”
Taehoon asks nonchalantly, trying to mask his inner turmoil.
"I told him if you couldn't come, I wasn't interested. Then he mentioned it was supposed to be a date, and you could come as the third wheel.”
”And then?”
"I couldn't picture you agreeing to just being a third wheel, so I said no.”
You reply with a shrug.
Taehoon cartwheels internally, trying his hardest not to smile with the information you just gave him. He silently celebrates the fact that you prioritized HIM over a potential date. Deep down, he wants to shout with joy, scream “FUCK YEAH, TAKE THAT, PUSSY!” But of course, he suppresses all his emotions.
”Then, are you free after school tomorrow?”
”Uh-huh.”
”What about the day after tomorrow?”
”Yup!”
”And the day after that?”
”I have cram school but I’ll make some time for you.”
”What about the day after…”
As the two of you stroll outside the campus, engaged in a lighthearted, nonsensical conversation, Taehoon discreetly pulls out pieces of paper out of his pockets.
"What are those?" You inquire, your curiosity piqued by his secretive actions.
"Nothing."
He replies casually, though there's a mischievous glint in his eye as he swiftly empties his pockets, throwing a collection of love letters from other students (that have been sent your way, perhaps out of protectiveness or simply to spare you the hassle of dealing with them yourself)into a nearby bin.
He clings onto your arm once more;
”Nothing important at all.”
#ptj universe#viral hit#how to fight taehoon#seong taehoon#taehoon bb#viral hit taehoon#doyouhave500won#taehoon x reader#how to fight imagines#i wish there was only one way to spell his name i'm struggling#seong taehoon x reader#taehoon seong x reader#nghhhhhh
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
fuck it I love you.
pairing: frankie "catfish" morales x fem!reader
genre: smut, hurt/comfort
word count: 4.3k
summary: pope's his best friend, he shouldn't get jealous when you talk to him– he really shouldn't. But how can he not when you've been turning a blind eye to all of his all the flirting he's been doing for the past month?
warnings: jealous!frankie, possessive!frankie, reader struggling with self worth, pov switch, cum eating/sharing, oral (receiving), piv, dirty talking, lots of praise, mutual pining, dumb misunderstandings, creampie, nicknames
a/n: this might be one of the filthiest things I've personally written, also this was requested by my beloved @inklore for the prompt "do you think you deserve this?" but since it ended up being longer then a drabble (I have no self control) decided to make it it's own post <3
requests open for pedro pascal characters, moon knight & peter parker 💌
masterlist | AO3
The music in the bar is pleasant, a nice cool breeze blowing from the small fans scattered all around the small, yet cozy, space. Frankie enjoyed coming here. He especially enjoyed it when the company was to his liking. The laughter, the conversations, all of it tickled the inside of his stomach in the most enjoyable way.
Tonight, however, despite having the gang back together, plus you, he doesn’t feel that giddy.
His back is snug against the leather of the booth, the rim of his comically large beer glass touching his bottom lip as he glares at you and Santi. Typically, Frankie isn’t the type to get jealous. He knew Pope was a flirt and that it meant absolutely nothing, being a chivalrous man was as natural to him as breathing. You, on the other hand, wasn’t the type to flirt just because. He isn’t even sure if you are flirting or not. The only thing he does know is that you’re laughing at his unfunny jokes and touching his arm whenever you can. It’s clear to him that you’re tipsy, in all his years of knowing you you had proven to be quite a light weight, but still the closeness the two share annoys him.
It didn’t help that you were staying with them during your visit. Hotels were expensive so of course both him and Santi had offered you to stay. They did have an extra room after all, what’s the point of it if no one stays?
Frankie, unlike his flirtatious best friend, isn’t the best at sweeping someone off their feet but he isn’t the worst either. He’s somewhat aware that he’s easy on the eyes nonetheless he can’t just bat his eyelashes when he wants someone to approach him.
He has… some moves– some of them which he had tried on you during your visit– the aforementioned “moves” consisted of compliments, some light touches here and there yet it was clear to him that you weren’t interested. You didn’t shy away from him but you didn’t exactly do anything either. He just gave up after a while, he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.
Santi, of course, soaked up all of the awkwardness, teasing Frankie whenever the opportunity arose. The asshole even offered to give him lessons in how to woo a woman. Fucking smug bastard.
So yeah, he’s positive Santi’s not actually trying to romanticize you. Sadly, he didn’t share the same confidence when it comes to you.
The crease between his brows deepens when you burst out laughing and drop your head on Santi’s shoulder, your arm thrown around Benny’s neck. Santi briefly glances at Frankie, his lips parting with a chuckle despite the worry written in his eyes. Frankie huffs and lowers his glass back to the table. He needs to leave. Either he leaves or he’s raising hell and that wouldn’t do anything other than make an ass out of himself.
Just as he’s getting up he hears your voice. His ass is left awkwardly hanging an inch up from the booth when he turns his gaze to you.
“Are you leaving?”
Fuck, the soft whine in your tone shoots right to his cock. He licks his lips and nods, trying to ignore the stirring in his lower abdomen.
“Yeah, I’m feeling a bit…tired,”
While sounds of disapproval rise from the rest of the group, Santi only raises an eyebrow. You lift your head up from his shoulder and clumsily get up from your seat, almost knocking one of the glasses over but thankfully Benny moves it just in time.
“I should head back too, I wanna go to the farmers market early in the morning–”
“Pope can drive you back,”
The harshness in his tone not only surprises you but also him. The air stills for a moment, an uncomfortable silence consuming the group. Frankie ignores the way Santi frowns and only focuses on the way your bottom lip quivers, guess his plan about not making an ass of himself failed. Lifting his cap, he cards his hair back and places it back on, he clears his throat.
“I–I need make a couple of stops before heading home, that’s why I–”
You cut him off, your voice dripping with venom.
“It’s okay, I get it if you don’t want me around,”
If what Frankie said didn’t make the atmosphere uncomfortable, what you just said certainly did. His eyebrows disappear under the loose strands of his hair, eyes wide as his lips part in hopes to say anything that might ease the tension rising. Frankie has no idea why you said the thing that you said and he’s not sure if he wants to find you.
In a last ditch effort to salvage the situation, he turns his gaze to Santi, their eyes meet and the other man playfully nudges you in the shoulder.
“Come on cariño, he didn’t mean it like that. You should go,”
Frankie takes a mental note to treat Pope for lunch later.
When he turns back to you, you’re already staring at him, your lips a thin line. After exchanging glances, you nod and side shimmy out of the booth. Frankie groans as you say nothing and head straight for the door.
“Man, that was brutal,” Benny chimes, a soft whistle accompanying his words. “Why did you even say that?”
“Because he’s an idiot,” Santi adds with the roll of his eyes. “That excuse was weak, hermano. Where are you even going to go at this hour?”
“Fuck me if I know. She looked really pissed too– What did she even mean by that? Why wouldn’t I want her around?”
“Maybe because you avoid her like the plague when we’re home?” Santi replies with an amused glance and intoxicating curve of his lips. “If I were you I would start by saying sorry,”
Frankie glances towards the door, the trail you left feels cold, his heart sinks into your chest.
“Yeah, probably. Anyway–”
He places his hand on Santi’s shoulder right before heading towards the door.
“Don’t be late.”
“Pope can drive you back,”
The words still echo in your mind. He was such a slap in the face, you knew something was wrong. You fucking knew it. Even when Santi continuously told you everything was fine, you knew Frankie was angry at you. He had to be by the way he was avoiding you.
And you damn well know why he was acting like that. It’s no secret that you had a minor infatuation with Frankie. You like him, he’s nice, funny and always by your side whenever you felt like the world was burning. The problem is that he sees you only as a friend and nothing more. Which is what you expect, no one ever sees you more than a friend. That’s your role in life. The one no one loves, at least, not in a romantical sense. And when Frankie got a whiff of your emotions, he pulled himself back. Typical. Soon he would outright just stop talking to you. It happened a million times before and it’ll happen a million times after.
Looking up to the dark sky you sigh, the cold begins to seep into your skin, hugging yourself to stay warm you blink rapidly. You want to cry. It’s foolish of you but deep down you had hoped that Frankie would be different, that he would see you for you and love you for you. But you guess that was just a hopeless dream.
A sudden warmth engulfs you and you jump, before you can turn Frankie is walking ahead of you, his jacket draped across your shoulders.
“Let’s go,” he says, voice gruff.
You stay in place for about a second, lips parted as you stare at him. You urge your legs to move but they stay glued to the concrete, your fingers come up to the jacket’s collar and tugs at it. Frankie’s scent files your nostrils, mint with a hint of cinnamon. Your pulse quickens and you take another languid breath of him, a soft moan parts your lips when you drag your attention back to Frankie.
When he notices your lack of presence he turns and tilts his head.
“You coming?”
“Uh, yeah.”
The drive back is awkward. You know it, he knows it.
And just as you suspected, he didn’t have anywhere to go, he just wanted to avoid you.
You don’t say a word as you move past him to go inside, you let your bag fall to the floor and kick off your shoes. When you hear the door closing behind you, you’re already made it halfway to your room.
“Can we talk?” he calls out. “I know I pissed you off, at least let me explain,”
With a broken sigh, you head back. He’s already removed his signature cap, which in return made you realize you still have his jacket across your shoulders. With a grown, you place it on the back of the couch and turn back to him.
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” you say a bit sharper than you initially intended. “I know why you’re trying to avoid me,”
“Avoid you?” he blinks. “This again, I’m not trying to–”
You snort, arms crossed in front of you.
“Yeah right, I’ve done this dance a million times, Frank. Whenever anyone gets a whiff that I like them they decide they want nothing to do with me anymore. I get it. I’m used to it.”
Silence follows and you’re somewhat pleased to cut your losses without completely destroying your heart in the process.
“Is that really what you think?”
You meet his gaze, heart nearly leaping out of your throat at his tone. Anger, you quickly identify. You’ve never heard him like this, voice trembling, a hint of a growl at the end of his sentence.
“I’ve been trying to let you know how I feel since you’ve got here. All you did was ignore me and drool over Pope. I am not the villain. You do not get to make me out to be one when I’ve been trying all this time.”
“I never flirted with him,” you whisper, averting your eyes. “Look, I get it. I do. Really. It’s not your fault, I’m not easy to love but you don’t have to lie about having feelings for me. All you had to do was talk to me. You could’ve told me to back off and I would, I thought we were friends,”
Your vision is blurry when Frankie walks up to you, his hands squeezing your upper arms as a sign that you should look up to him. His gaze is softer now but it’s not enough to heal you. You’re suffocating. You can’t breathe, think, or feel. All you want to do is hide from the world and remove yourself from this situation.
“Listen to me,” he grits his teeth. “I. Am. Not. Lying– Stop selling yourself short. You always do this. Just breathe and think for a moment, why would I lie?”
Wet eyelashes kiss the underside of your eyes, a tear slipping from between them. The world spins, leaving only him and you in the middle of a hurricane. His one hand slides up to cup your cheek, he swipes the tear away with the inside of his thumb. Your chest heaves. Frankie’s leaning in closer and closer, you only realize what his intention is when you feel the firm press of his lips, tenderly moving against yours.
Frankie breathes you in, tongue licking your lips as a silent plea for more. Heart fluttering, you open yourself for him, he mimics your movement, opening his mouth wide while pressing his tongue against yours. His other hand comes up to your other cheek, holding your face tenderly. Tears roll down your cheeks and he kisses them away, his lips wet when they travel back down to meet your own.
“Frankie,” you whisper into his open mouth. “Frankie, I need more,”
He mouths at the underside of your jaw, nipping your skin as he grins. His hands slide down to cup your breast, squeezing them, he coaxes a moan out of you.
“After everything you put me through tonight– After flirting all night in front of me– do you think you deserve it?
“I–I–”
His grin widens at your loss for words, lips still moving across your skin.
“I’m just kidding, mi vida. Thought some humor would lighten the mood,”
The tension you’ve been building up for the past couple of days melts when you feel his lips once more. His open palms smooth over your curves, tongue deep in your mouth as he tastes the silent moans slipping from your lips. You’re unaware he’s leading you somewhere, your feet move without the knowledge of where to go. But you don’t care. Not when his fingers are viciously pulling at your shirt and tugging it over your head, giving you only a moment to breathe before crashing his lips against yours once more.
You’re falling, surroundings nothing but a blur as he sucks you down into the pit of intoxicating lust. You can almost feel the wind grazing against your burning skin–
Wait, you’re actually falling.
A gasp rips from your throat when you find yourself sprawled across the softness of a bed. Despite the blurriness of your eyes, you quickly identify the room not belonging to Frankie but to Santi. Unlike Frankie’s room that smells airy and fresh, Santi’s space smells of smoke and the overwhelming scent of bergamot that belongs to his perfume.
“Fran–shit,”
You’re interrupted by your own moan that suddenly slips from your lips. Frankie’s looking down at you, eyes a shade darker with lust and want. Eyes linger on the thick outline of his cock, his lips curl up, he palms the bulge, slowly and accompanied by the delicious roll of his hips.
“Do you have any idea–” he rasps, hand continuing to stroke his clothed cock. “––how many times I’ve dreamed of this? How I imagined your wet pussy wrapped around my cock, your legs spread wide as I fuck you? Do you know how many times I helplessly humped some pillow just to have some semblance of your presence?”
You moan at his words, the wetness between your legs grows. Just the thought of him moaning and whining while grinding against a pillow, thinking of you, it makes you ache for him even more.
“Does that turn you on?” he muses, undoing the button of your pants and tugging the fabric down. “Me, coming into my fist an ungodly amount of times just thinking of you? Dirty girl,”
His name parts from your lips in the form of a whine.
“Don’t wear out my name just yet, you’ll be screaming it a lot tonight,”
Frankie’s fingers trace the seam of your underwear, he watches the way your thighs tremble for him. He presses his fingers between your clothed folds, feeling the moisture dampening the tips of his fingers.
“Already so wet, I’ve done nothing else other then talk,”
His eyes meet yours, your heart stills at the exchange.
“Do you want me to fuck you on top of Santi’s bed?”
Fuck, you don’t want to answer that, it’s too embarrassing. But despite forcing your lips to stay shut, your body doesn’t get the memo. Heat spurs between your legs, the dark patch on your underwear spreading. He chuckles, eyes never leaving yours as he starts to draw slow circles around your clit– It feels like electricity surging across your body. The pressure builds and you can’t help but raise your hips off of the mattress, meeting the caress of his hand.
“I want to hear it from you baby, say it.”
“I do,” you breathe out. “Please fuck me right here right now,”
“Your wish is my command, princesa. Turn over,”
All thoughts desert you while you shuffle on top of thick sheets. You raise your ass into the air, effectively burying your face into the sheets that smell exactly like Santi. For a split second it confuses you, especially when Frankie’s scent is nowhere similar to his friend.
“You’re perfect,” he hums, hand going up and down your back, feeling the dip of your waist. “So obedient, so generous, so beautiful– Fuck, how could you even think I would want to avoid such a pretty thing,”
The sudden feeling of his cock between your wet folds makes you jump, but he quickly eases you with the tender touch of his lips between your shoulder blades.
“Did you enjoy riling me up all night?” he murmurs. “Well it doesn’t matter. You belong to me don’t you?”
He continues to drag his cock, every time his length brushes the sensitive bundle of nerves you gasp, your body left shivering uncontrollably. His voice is dripping with sin, it’s like having the devil’s tongue licking your ear, you can’t fight it and you don’t want to.
“You’re mine aren’t you?”
“I am– I’m yours Frankie,”
“Good,”
You whine when the warmth of his lips disappear. He kneads the mounds of your ass, groaning at the way your drips across his cock, drenching it with your slick. Your breath is so stuttery that it’s basically just a string of short, sharp breaths. You want him. You need him. The illicit thrill of being fucked on top of Santi’s bed stirs you on, it makes you even more needy and desperate. All you can smell is the bergamot and the heavy scent of your slick. His nails rake across your back, the blunt tip of his cock teasing your entrance.
“You’re shaking,”
He leans in, mouth an inch away from your ear as soft whimpers fall from your lips. You’re on the verge of crying, you want him so bad that it physically hurts.
“Tell me,” his breath ghosts over your damp skin, goosebumps erupting across your body. “Have you ever thought of me while fingering yourself? Did you imagine me fucking you just like this, right on top of my bestfriends bed– Or did you imagine me taking you in the kitchen, is that why you offer to cook everynight? To entice me with a good show of your behind?”
Your defense is violently caught in your throat when he slams all of himself inside you without warning. The thickness of his cock walks the borderline of being painful and pleasurable, choked out breaths tears away from your lungs, the two feelings mixing into a mind numbing sensation. The way your pussy clutches tightly around him makes his hips stutter forward, pushing even deeper as he bites into your shoulder.
“Fuck, baby– You’re gonna make me cum quick if you squeeze like that,”
Mouth parting wide, you moan at his words, your insides fluttering around him. Spit dribbles out from the corner of your lips and wets the sheets underneath. Fuck, Santi was going to be pissed.
“Mine,” he growls, straightening his back and holding your hips. “Mine, mine, mine–”
Your eyes roll back when he starts to move his hips. Cock sliding nearly all the way out before he rocks back into you with full force. But despite all of that, he’s holding back. You can feel it in the way his fingers twitch from where they dig into your hips. The sound of your guttural moans fills the air, a string of curses mixed with his name is screamed into the sheets. Your body is on fire. It turns into an object of desire, a tool for Frankie to use as a means for his own pleasure.
You don’t mind, in fact you want him to take whatever he wants, you would be content with just this. Him, buried deep inside you, all the time. Not another thought lingering in your muddled mind.
Frankie’s falling apart behind you, his own moans catching up to yours. He leans forward, clothed chest flushed against your naked back. You want to feel more of his skin but your pleas for it are nothing but incoherent whines. His arms coil tightly around you like a snake, pulling you even closer as he ruts into you like a wild animal.
You can hear the silent whimpers of ‘mine’ being repeated to you again and again.
Frankie’s about to explode.
You’re squeezing him tight, a sheer coat of your slick forming a ring at the base of his cock. He’s somewhat aware you’re trying to ask for something, and if he wasn’t so far gone into his own pleasure he would tease you to speak up. But with the curve of your ass pressed against his pelvis, his cock coaxing all the sweet noises he wanted to hear since forever…he just can’t think anymore.
He presses wet kisses into your skin. You’re making a mess out of Santi’s sheets, spit and slick dripping out of you like the most beautiful fountain he’s ever seen. In his mind, fucking you right here, on top of his best friend’s bed, solidifies the notion that you belong to him and only him. Fuck, he’s acting like a dog marking it’s territory. It was stupid but the way pleasure rings in his ears makes him think otherwise.
“I’m about to cum,” he groans, the pace of his hips quickening.
Frankie pulls you up with him, hand sprawled across your stomach while the other wraps around your throat. Another moan escapes him when you squeeze around him like some goddamn condiment. He’s surprised when you reach out and grab his wrist, the pressure is enough for him to slow down.
“Frankie…I–I love you, you know that right?”
His eyes widen, heart nearly beating out of his chest as he drags his lips across the column of your neck. He doesn’t want you to think anymore. He wants to fuck every thought out of your pretty head.
Pulling back, Frankie slams his hips, he repeats it, again and again until you’re left a babbling mess. You tighten around him, moans and cries falling from your lips as his cock slides in and out. His lips are latched against your ear, his words practically a growl when he speaks.
“Te amo, con todo, mi vida,”
Your head falls over his shoulder, he mouths the underside of your jaw. He wants to ruin you, he wants to feel the way you convulse around him. His hand slides to your core, drawing quick, small circles around your aching clit. You cry out, panting as you gasp for air.
“Con todo, todo,”
Frankie nearly chokes when you come undone around him. Your tight pussy clenching and gushing while he continues to grind his cock deeper. He keens at the way you desperately throw your arms back and pull his head in a desperate attempt for a kiss. Finding it cute, he allows you to tug him close. He tastes the euphoria on your tongue, it makes his head spin. The pressure inside him builds with each stroke of your tongue, it builds and builds until he can’t take it anymore, every time he thrusts into you his eyes roll back– It takes him one more to follow in your footsteps and cum.
His eyelids flutter as he moans into your open mouth, warmth builds around his cock, hips continuing to push forward while he fills you to the brim. He grits his teeth at the way your insides clamp around him, your moans filling the room.
Frankie gently lays you down on your back. You're breathing heavily, chest heaving as you look up to him. He watches the way your legs part so he could nestle between them, but instead he eats up the sight of his cum dripping out of you. The sight makes his softening cock twitch with interest. A soft whimper falls from you when he presses his lips against the inside of your thigh, mouth leaving a wet trace of open mouthed kisses as it finds your wet core.
Your eyes roll back when you feel the swipe of his tongue, he moans at his own taste, the vibrations making the dwindling rush of your orgasm spiking once again across your body.
He looks up to you, observes the way your brows furrow with pleasure, lips parting in ecstasy as his tongue delves deeper. Gripping your thighs, he gently pushes them over his shoulder, pulling your pussy flush against his hungry lips. You writhe at the building pleasure, legs trembling while he licks you clean.
Sucking more of himself into his mouth, Frankie slides up your body and crushes his lips against yours. When your lips part he pushes the cum into your mouth with his tongue, relishing in the way you moan for him, swallowing hungirly at what he has to offer.
His cock is semi hard when you wrap your legs around his waist, he grins as he pulls back, a look of mischief glittering in his eyes.
“Seems like someone’s eager for another round,”
“It’s just,” you pant, rolling your hips against his cock. “I’ve been waiting for you for so long, I can’t help it. Also–” you fist at his shirt. “I don’t want anything between us, Frankie,”
Just as he leans in to capture your lips, there’s a loud, almost violent, knock at the door.
“You two better get that shit cleaned!” Santi pipes from the other side of the door. “Until then I’ll take the guest bedroom– For fuck’s sake, after all the trouble I’ve been through to get you guys together. Un-fucking-believable,”
“Whoops,” Frankie mutters against your lips, his grin wide. “So where were we?”
“We should–”
“We’ll apologize to him tomorrow,” he cuts you off, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “You should focus on me, mocosa,”
“Alright,” you whisper with a smile. “You’re all that matter to me, nothing else,”
Frankie decorates your face with fleeting, soft kisses. His heart practically melts at the words–
“Wait, did you just call me a brat?”
#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x y/n#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales x fem!reader#francisco catfish morales#francisco morales x you#francisco morales x f!reader#francisco morales#francisco morales x reader#francisco morales x y/n#frankie morales fanfiction#triple frontier fanfiction#triple frontier x reader#frankie morales imagine
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Twenty-Six
Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter
Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro
Chapter Twenty-Six: Simple. Practical. Easy
Zoro doesn’t know how to deal with all of…this.
Really – he may be many things, but dealing with…feelings is simply not his forte. Nor when he has to talk things out. And, God save him, when he’s given the task to comfort others.
Zoro silently rests himself on one of Raya’s stools, standing on the precipice of not knowing whether he should leave, but not quite wanting to just yet. He flips the beautifully crafted Enma between his fingers, a soft frown set on his lips.
With swords…well, you don’t really need to do all of that. You don’t gotta bare your soul to it. To comfort it and tell it everything’s going to be okay. To apologise sincerely and express your own grief.
After all, in Zoro’s opinion, a sword is just a sword. You swing, you slice, you offer gratitude to it, and it’s a job done.
Zoro knows, that if Raya was here, she would’ve adamantly disagreed with that logic. She would’ve said something about how swords have souls, and that they understand the complexities of human feelings as much as we do. For a split second, Zoro takes an odd solace in that thought, his fingers fumbling over Raya’s lovingly wrapped leather over the hilt of his sword.
But after a paused moment, realisation flickers across the samurai’s face. He looks away from the humming Enma, helplessly turning his head around within the empty workshop. Out of all things, he’s thinking about what she thinks? He kisses his teeth. Some resolve he has.
See, swords don’t make him feel like this. They don’t hurt his head or press heavily against his chest with no way of escape. They lift, they slice and they charge onwards, tongue constantly sharpening for their next foe.
Swords don’t scream. Swords don’t cry or grieve or burst into flames when a tragedy occurs. They don’t hiss or give you the silent treatment, either.
Swords don't have skin, where inked fingers can trace over its body so delicately, so intimately, that it feels like Zoro’s accidentally intruded in on a forbidden moment. Swords don’t sarcastically wave at him from a distance, either, and flick a switch upwards to keep his watchful eye away.
And eyes. Swords don’t have eyes. They don’t have eyes, brim with fire he’s never experienced before. With grit and hatred that pools suffocatingly around his presence. They don’t show their wonder and curiosity and wisdom through the use of pupils, nor does their quick-wittedness or sharpness translate through the use of looking.
Only through metal and a sharpening stone do they offer their most acceptable use.
And on that thought, nor do they have lips – soft, plump ones that fold underneath a little appearance of teeth, deeply thinking, considering a problem that secretly renders them anxious. The only tell of their discomfort being of their pulled-in lips and softly chewing teeth.
They don’t cry. They don’t have the power to spin their own bodies around like a threatening whip, broken words unfolding at the tip of their tongue, tears pooling up in shells that do their best to keep them at bay. They don’t make him feel…
They don’t make him feel…
Well, how did he actually feel?
The looming samurai shakes his head with a grunt, running a hand through his tousled hair.
No. Fuck feelings. He doesn’t need those.
All Zoro knows is that his chest felt tight and his breath rendered shallow after he bore witness to those stinging words.
And unlike some people, swords don’t withhold their thoughts or feelings. They're always straightforward and honest, without any reservations towards Zoro, and they most certainly do not prefer to disclose their inner secrets to the Surgeon of Death over the likes of him.
Swords are swords. They’re simple. They’re practical. They’re easy.
But this…
Whatever’s churning around in his stomach, whatever’s making his heart stutteringly displace its beats…
Well, he hasn’t felt this way since…
He clenches his jaw, the muscles of his neck tensing. His eyes flicker to the Wado Ichimonji, its broken shards nestling within a makeshift cocoon of a dark blue blanket.
He hasn’t felt this way since Kuina’s death.
Zoro raises his eyebrows. Is that was this feeling is? Is it grief? Is he grieving over the old man the way he grieved for Kuina?
Or is it guilt? The guilt of standing there and watching him and doing fuck all.
No, Raya was right. There's no honour in spectating, in standing by while someone else suffers. And yet, that's exactly what he did when she needed him the most.
The weight of his inaction settles heavily on his shoulders, a burden he's carried with him for far too long. He thought he had buried those feelings deep down, thought he had moved on from the guilt and regret that had haunted him since Kuina's death. But now, staring at the shattered remains of her, he realizes that they were never truly gone.
He reaches out a trembling hand to touch the Wado Ichimonji, his fingers tracing the familiar contours of the broken blade. Memories flood his mind, memories of a time when he was young and foolish, when he believed that strength alone could conquer any obstacle.
What would Kuina think if she could see him now? Would she be proud of the man he's become, or would she be disappointed by his failures?
The thought gnaws at him, twisting like a knife in his gut. He can almost hear her voice, sharp and cutting, chastising him for his weakness, for his inability to protect those he cares about.
Zoro squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the memories, but they refuse to be silenced. They taunt him, torment him, reminding him of his shortcomings, of his failures.
If it were Kuina instead of Sukiyaki in that moment, would he have ignored her honour code? Would he have furiously snapped at her to shut up and to let him fight? Would he have saved her regardless, and interfered with her martyred resolve?
Zoro holds his breath.
Yes. The simple answer would be yes. He would have.
Zoro's heart twists with the weight of his realization. He knows, deep down, that if it were Kuina in that moment instead of Sukiyaki, he would have acted without hesitation. He would have thrown himself into the fray, risking everything to save her, consequences be damned.
But Sukiyaki was not Kuina, and Zoro's loyalty to the samurai code had bound him in place, like chains forged from honour and duty. It's a bitter truth to swallow, knowing that his commitment to honour had cost him the opportunity to intervene and potentially save someone's life.
The echo of Kuina's voice rings in his ears, her words a cutting reminder of his perceived weakness. She would have scolded him for his failure to live up to the ideals they had both cherished, for his inability to protect those in need. And as the weight of her disappointment settles upon him like a suffocating blanket, Zoro can't help but feel the crushing weight of his own inadequacy.
And amidst the pain and the guilt, there's a sense of profound loneliness that threatens to consume him whole. He is adrift in a sea of his own making, lost in the depths of his own despair.
A shuffle of heavy feet burrows its way into the heel of the workshop, a long shadow dancing through the soft splinters of candlelight. There’s a heavy silence, and Zoro, for a second, doesn’t want to turn around. His chest tightens once more, teeth clenching hard together.
Is it Raya? It must be. But is he even able to face her right now?
He doesn’t know. Most of all – he doesn’t want to. Because right now, he’s not ready.
He sits on the stool, hands firmly gripping over the one and only thing that offers him a modicum of comfort. His sword. So practical. So easy. So simple.
“Zoro-ya?” A male voice reverberates within the fragile air. Zoro hears him advance a few steps further, and he can just feel the questioning expression of the man behind him - one eyebrow raised, a pair of dark eyes narrowing, arms tucking comfortably together.
Law’s voice interferes with the silence once more, his voice louder, and a lot closer now. Zoro, still, does not turn around. Simply, he does not want to.
“What are you doing here?” Law asks.
#one piece#one piece zoro#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro#one piece luffy#luffy#monkey d luffy#one piece ace#straw hat pirates#usopp#sanji#tony tony chopper#nico robin#straw hat luffy#one piece fanfiction#one piece fic#one piece fanfic#op fanfic#op fandom#female reader x zoro#zoro x female reader#zoro x fem reader#three sword style#zoro roronoa#zoro rorono x you#zoro roronoa x y/n#straw hats
36 notes
·
View notes
Note
I saw one of your posts about " I don't agree Louis is in Merrick state & suicidal " . I think 90% of the fandom believes that he is . So I'm interested to know why you don't think so ? Do you have any more spoilers?
Well I'm not certain either it's just a feeling & vibe I have .😅
Although after Jacob's tv insider interview where he said " he never thought Louis would be that fucked up at the end " I think the possibility of Merrick is higher as others speculated .
BUT the show would have to change a lot of things about the main characters storylines compared to the books .
1. After Lestat brings back Louis to life after he committed suicide Louis stayed shortly with Lestat & left him feeling resentment towards him & his new powers & went to live with Armand . But AMC Louis already is living with Armand so if Lestat brings Louis back again & all those resentments reach Louis again & Louis goes back to Armand again then I honestly would feel disappointed . Because what about Armand & Daniel ? What about Louis & Lestat ? UNLESS they change this completely & make Louis love & fully hooked on Lestat even though he saves him & makes him a vampire again . Which isn't unlikely because show Louis doesn't seem to hate his powers .
2. Lestat & Louis separated at the end of Merrick . And Lestat went on his other adventures . S3 has to be about Lestat talking about TVL & other stuff . Lestat has to be present in S3 . So if S2 really ends up like Merrick they would need to change this stuff & make Lestat stay & make Louis not leave to go with Armand . Louis has to hear Lestat's side of the story first , if he doesn't fully know yet . And that needs the writers to change Louis's feelings about being made & brought back by Lestat again .
3 . We still aren't sure where Lestat is right now . Is he in Dubai ? And Louis & Armand are watching over him ? ( I don't think so ) Because if he knew he wouldn't have acted so calm & active in a relationship with Armand he would look uncomfortable & regretful in my opinion UNLESS Armand is making Louis feel certain ways to not get overwhelmed with feelings suddenly & Armand is controlling his feelings bursting out .
#Merrick#interview with the vampire#interview with the vampire season 2#iwtv speculation#iwtv spoilers#loustat#iwtv#louis de pointe du lac#lestat de lioncourt#amc iwtv#amc interview with the vampire#lestat x louis#louis x armand#loumand
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
the valeska twins having a witch s/o!! (or a s/o who loves the concept and idea of witchcraft)
pairing(s): implied jeremiah valeska and jerome valeska x reader
warning(s): absolutely none! but if anyone who reads this doesn’t agree with wicca and bashes it, js leave man 😭
(got this as a little idea because i myself study wicca, and my mother is a grey witch and eclectic. so when i went into town the other day and went into one of my fav wiccan shops, i couldn’t help but think of these two!! also it’s 2am so i’m so sorry for not proof reading this!)
JEROME
• Jerome definitely has no knowledge on witchcraft whatsoever.
• Sure, he knew the whole fortune telling thing from Mr Cicero in the circus and had a few readings from him (back before he knew that was his father) but if you’d have asked him if he believed it, he would have immediately burst into a fit of giggles.
• He doesn’t want to judge you as he’s realised how passionate you are about your beliefs, but he was a little uninterested in learning about the history of it all.
“So you know about Salem, right? The Witch trials?”
“… Salem? Ain’t that where they filmed Hocus Pocus?”
“JEROME!”
• It took a while to get him to take it all in, but you were surprised to find out he actually enjoyed the weeks you spent teaching him on the history of how your beliefs came to be.
• You have to be careful on when you decide to burn incense. If you choose to, make sure Jerome ain’t lurking around. He’s oddly got quite a sensitive nose. So most incense sticks make him sneeze or he either complains about the smell. Shame.
• On nights he feels particularly loopy, he begs you to give him a tarot reading. You were shocked the first time he asked, but you kept putting it off, telling him he had to be in the right mindset for both him and yourself to focus.
• When you DID however give in and do his cards one day, he got the death card, and began to freak out.. not knowing that the death card didn’t necessarily mean death itself.
“DOLL, IF I DIE NOW.. I WANT IT TO BE ON MY OWN TERMS!”
“Jerome that’s not-”
“I HATE THIS.”
• He knocked SEVERAL candles over during that one reading, and when his coat caught on fire.. yeah it was time to stop..
• There’s been days you’ve felt his energy, being the empath that you are. And you know when he’s thinking about his childhood again.
• You asked him if you could do a little something for him with some of your oils, just to perhaps protect him from any negative thoughts that directed back to his past.
• Everytime you light a candle for yourself or others, you have to remind Jerome each time. If you don’t, he’ll just blow it out and walk right past.
• He fucking LOVES your ring collection. There’s a specific ring you have that he finds rather amusing to look at. It’s moonstone, and you’ve found him sitting playing with it on multiple occasions. It really is eye catching.
• His fav crystals are definitely Tiger’s Eye and Lapis Lazuli.
• He had no clue there were different types of witches. Black, grey, white, red, green. And many more.
“What about ginger witches?”
“Well- okay yeah I suppose they exist too..”
• Overall, your beliefs are another quirk that Jerome finds so intriguing about you. He knows that when he’s with you, he’s protected. As you are with him.
JEREMIAH (POST SPRAY)
• Unlike his brother, Jeremiah does actually have some knowledge on witchcraft. Mostly because his adopted family when he was sent away were Christians, and always spoke of Wicca as satanic worship. But Jeremiah wasn’t that stupid.
• He actually showers you with new gifts that you can use for what you do. And he LOVES the scent of incense. So he makes sure you’re stocked up on that at all times.
• Jeremiah actually came forward to you once about something he’d never really been able to talk about to anyone. And he had wondered if you’d be able to make this specific thing go away. Jeremiah had a certain sleep paralysis demon torment him for years, and unfortunately he’d had to grow used to it. But when he figured out there was things you could do to help, he knew to approach you about it.
• He’s very interested in your clairvoyance. You’ve told him about visions you’ve had in dreams, and it’s always intrigued him. But he’s even more surprised when your visions have came to be. Some unwanted, some rather pleasant.
• However, when it comes to readings, he’s a bit cocky. He likes to think he already knows what his future holds.
• Whenever Jeremiah feels awfully run down or fatigued, he enjoys allowing you to rub oils on his temples. This is more often than you’d think. When you tell him to close his eyes, he does so. And the more you try to relax him, the more it gives him the tingles. He actually shivers at the thought of it. He loves it.
• He knows the Mercury Retrograde means a lot to you, so when you insist on having to do your own little private things for that occasion, he doesn’t bother you.
• He’s watched you burning your intentions on little notes from inside of his hideout. He thinks you standing there as the smoke from your small cauldron descends into the night air is quite a beautiful sight.
• Jeremiah used to get awful night terrors in his bunker, and even now he still uses the method you always instructed him to vision. He imagines himself in a mirrored dome, his desires and whatever he values are inside with him. Whatever is on the outside stays on the outside. And anything that’s inside, including himself, is along the mirrors facing the outside. Meaning that the mirrors are a method of not allowing anything else in.
• Yes, Jeremiah is rather private about all of this, but he’s found great comfort in using strategies you’ve taught him. Like Jerome, he feels very protected with you. And you’ve helped him get rid of many things that once stood in his way. But beware. There’s also many things Jeremiah might try and use, that perhaps go a little too far in your books..
YOOOOOO THIS WAS INCREDIBLY FUN TO MAKE!! i know it’s been a while since i last wrote, but i am slowly coming back. so why not start off with the two most memorable we all know and love? <3
#jerome valeska#jeremiah valeska#the valeska twins#gotham#headcanons#character headcanons#wicca#witchcraft#s/o#x reader#cameron monaghan#valeska twins#jerome valeska headcanons#jeremiah valeska headcanons#jerome#jeremiah#ghastlyfilters#jeremiah valeska x reader#jerome valeska x reader
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
I WENT AND SAW MEAN GIRLS YESTERDAY
Went in with low expectations, but hoping to like it. Listened to some of the soundtrack a few days ago and wasn’t exactly impressed. But I didn’t blame the rearrangements—not entirely. Some of it was questionable, but maybe it’d be like with NPMD where I’d like it more when I had the visuals to go with it (I vastly prefer The Summoning live, and also High School is Killing Me, rather than the studio audio). And for the most part, I was right! I had a nice time.
See below the cut for my thoughts on the songs, other details, and some Janis analysis.
First Things First
We started off strong with the garage setup and Cautionary Tale. The vertical screen on a horizontal one doesn’t bother me, so I love the whole bit with the phone, and Janis plays guitar!
What Ifs was a song I didn’t listen to beforehand, and I understood most of it til Cady got to school. Then I had no idea what she was saying, either because the music was too loud or she was singing too softly, or both.
Meet the Plastics (though really it’s just Meet Regina) was good. Loved the lights flickering and Regina’s hypnotic voice like a siren luring the unsuspecting Cady in. Or an anglerfish.
Stupid With Love was actually not that bad... in the first half. Once we were out of the classroom, it fell off for me. I suppose they were going for a dreamy walking-on-air cloud nine “too in your own little world to notice the world around you” vibe, especially at the very end, but Angourie’s soft vocals didn’t do it for me. I expected a burst of energy since they’re outside and have the freedom to move and be loud with it.
Apex Predator was beautiful visually. Musically, I’m still not sure what to make of Damian singing Cady’s lines when they were about Janis. It’s strange. Couldn’t even have her think them? Record Angourie in a booth to get a feel for how big she can go, play it over a few shots of Cady’s face or the scene in front of them, Cady looking at Janis as she secretly compares Janis and Regina while Janis and Damian are warning her about Regina? No?
The build-up to What’s Wrong With Me was good—love the usage of the music box—though the song itself was a bit awkward. It’s sad all the same though, and that’s the point.
Sexy was good. Blink and you’ll miss the Easter egg.
Someone Gets Hurt was visually stunning. My one gripe is that Aaron has ONE line. Just one. And he doesn’t even sing it because the actor just doesn’t sing (did they hire him for his looks? The fact that he was in TSITP, which I haven’t seen? Why hire someone who doesn’t/can’t sing... for a musical??). Couldn’t they get someone to dub him? It’s just one line. Was that too much to ask? Disguise Damian’s voice if you have to. Giving it to Regina was certainly a choice they made.
Revenge Party was a fucking banger. It’s so fun and hella camp, and I love that they reinstated one of the OG verses (two if you recognize the piñata line from another verse). Also like how the “yes, bitch!” line was also back, unlike in the Broadway recording, though I don’t think that exchange needed to happen twice. I love Janis just loudly popping up with “And ugly crying!” during the bit with the sprinklers like girl shut up you’ll blow your cover! But then there was also that weirdass decision to have it go handheld when Cady goes to get the candy cane. Did not like that, what the hell was that?
Damian singing the iCarly theme in French lmao okay sure.
Someone Gets Hurt Reprise was just as good as the original, I love it. My only nitpick is the wording. “Obsessed” rather than “in love with” though that might have something to do with the doll.
World Burn was epic. Except... okay. Regina waltzed right into school with the Burn Book in hand. What if someone saw her? And then her just deliberately dropping and leaving it on the floor. And people really walked past it before someone finally picked it up? Really? The payoff is excellent, just the setup was... questionable.
Now that I’ve seen it, I definitely like this version of I’d Rather Be Me a lot more than I did before. Especially how it ends. (Though Barrett is still bae.) There’s possibly an allusion to the music video with the running in the halls and going about the school. But my God, Auli’i fucking did that! And again, very glad they kept the curse in the OST.
If that was a reprise of Stupid with Love... here’s an idea: just stop. The horse is already dead.
I See Stars was? Fine? Tbh I don’t really remember it. Probably because the girl who doesn’t go there takes over halfway though. Way to pull your weight, Cady. Angourie did well for some things, but singing really isn’t her strong suit. Again, why hire actors who don’t have the range for a musical?
Other things:
I love that Janis does embroidery here. It just fits.
Did not like the sanitization. How can this be Mean Girls without one mention of “social suicide”? You can keep the bouncing boobs thing and blatantly asking if Cady wants to have sex with Jason, but the band geeks are “corny-horny” and not “sexually active”?
Heyy Ashley Park!
Cady scaring the shit out of Janis and Damian will never not be funny. They were even watching the same scene of the same movie!
I was really hoping to get a flashback of Regina and Janis, with Janis actually burning the doll, rather than Damian acting it out with the toys. Or at the very least, a shot of Regina’s backpack on fire (that would’ve been a great teaser image). So we can get an idea of what Janis was like before, if she went along with the fashion rules like “pink on Wednesdays” or if she was always a little off-beat and Regina pushed her further into it. Maybe even see if she was the queen bee as some people believe was the case back in the day.
Love the bit with music people in the tree and Janis telling them to stop lmao. I love when they do things like that.
Analysis:
So one of the main differences between this Janis and her predecessors is that once this Janis gets to a certain point, she’s satisfied and actually wants to stop so she and her friends can just enjoy their time together rather than asking Cady to take a single night off before, presumably, letting it go on longer. This makes the party betrayal hurt worse when Cady says she wants one more lunch with the Plastics, as it looks like she made the active choice to trade up rather than just forgetting about Janis and Damian in her attempt to ensnare Aaron. Janis’ satisfaction also makes her singing IRBM more justified than in the musical because the movie took away a crucial aspect of her character which made her a Mean Girl to begin with: her anger.
This iteration of Janis just doesn’t have the same level of pure rage that drives her the way Regina does—rage which made them two sides of the same coin—because in this version, Janis is actually gay. The whole conflict in the original was Regina labeling Janis as something she wasn’t, and 2004 being a more homophobic time in history was how it was able to fly. In the 2018 musical, when that was no longer the case, they had to add in another layer with Regina pretending the issue was that Janis couldn’t accept she wasn’t one of the six people invited to her birthday party, before revealing the real issue was the same as the first: Regina pushing a label onto Janis (though Barrett says she played Janis as a lesbian, this was not explicitly confirmed nor acknowledged within the show itself, and is therefore no more canon than Regina being queer because Renee Rapp says so, closeted or not). With Janis being canonically queer here, this takes all the power out of Regina labeling her a lesbian in the first place because yes, yes she is, and? Rather than the problem being about the label, now the problem became Janis’ reaction to the bullying that ensued.
While she had to leave school due to how bad the bullying was in all versions previously (frozen out in the original—according to Regina she dropped out; and having “space dyke” Sharpied on her locker in the musical—according to Damian her parents pulled her out) this is the only time we know of where she retaliated. By burning the plush (and also Regina’s backpack) with a Bunsen burner. Her own actions resulted in her getting kicked out rather than being forced out by circumstances beyond her control, and the choice to do it this way shows that a) while what happened to her was more insidious, she’s also slightly less of a victim than her predecessors, and b) she knows better than anyone actions have consequences—a line of dialogue explicitly absent in the movie’s opening number. She was content to stop where they were at, quit while they’re ahead, because her desire for revenge was satiated and she was ready to move on. Have lunch with Cady and hang out like they always meant to. She’s no longer a Mean Girl. While there was an injustice done upon her, she’s not so scarred by it she’s letting her rage get the better of her to the point it spirals out of control. She was ready and willing to stop. But Cady wasn’t.
And I don’t know how to feel about that.
I think that’s it.
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Albert Wesker x Reader Story
It was purely accidental. You didn't mean to grow any feelings because of it. But every time you experienced a trial facing him, Wesker was always praising your work ethic and survival skills. Constantly he was saying things like "what a striking performance" or "well done, (y/n)" or even "I know you can do better than that,". His tenacious laughter would echo mischievously in the wind behind you.
After being here for a few months, you knew that you were not high standard. No one really thought you were all that interesting, honestly, and due to the fact that you were demisexual, most people who tried getting to know you gave up pretty quickly. And your sexuality wasn't the only downside to you.
You were extremely sensitive and would break down instantly at the slightest mean comment or the raise of someone's voice. You always either tried to avoid people or stay as quiet as possible. Even you believed that it was stupid and annoying, but you couldn't help how your heart felt.
And in these past few weeks, your heart had been beating for Albert Wesker.
Besides the people who only wanted quick, one night stands- which you obviously refused- there hadn't been anybody who had shown you true interest. Besides Wesker that is... That man treated you differently, or at least you suspected he did. Unlike other survivors who got the rasher end of his behavior, you were praised, complimented, and some times even given second chances. That had to be a sign right? A sign that you were special to him?
"'Is Wesker seeing anyone'?" Kate repeated your question with heavy sarcasm, her arms crossed as she gave you a judgemental stare, "Ha, and why are 'you' asking, huh? You think you actually have a chance with him? Do you realize how pathetically stupid you are- I mean, this is Wesker we're talking about. What could ever make you think that a hot piece of meat like him would ever fall for a flavorless dud like you?"
You were shaking, your arms, face, hands and chest growing hot and sweaty beneath your clothes as tears filled your eyes. "You're right," You could feel the shame, embarrassment and stupidity slicing ribbons across your heart, "I'm sorry."
Quickly, before she could say anything else, you walked away, one shaky hand covering your mouth as you found an isolated area in the woods and fell to your knees. Like a bursting dam you began crying, snot pouring out your nose as you covered your face. Regret pounded through your veins; you shouldn't have said anything to them. You should have known that they would only be cruel.
Kate was right though. You were pathetically stupid. You were a flavorless dud. Not to top it off but you were also boring, ugly, weak, and an overly sensitive crybaby. As if Wesker would have feelings for a low piece of trash like you. You were so stupid for falling for the new guy. He was probably like everyone else- only interested in beneficial relationships, hot people, and easy wins during trials.
You were nothing.
...
"My back is fucking killing me," Kate hissed while tenderly rubbing her aching sides.
David looked at her with mock pity, "Maybe you should stop lettin' em bend ya over the gens, yeah?"
"It's not my fault that's all they'll do," She scuffed.
"Were you able to do it with the new guy yet?" Feng eagerly asked, excitement in her eyes.
Kate groaned and pouted, shaking her head, "Nope, he's not biting yet, but we're getting there. No one can resist this sexy ass, haha- oh! I forgot to tell you guys..."
Unbeknownst to the survivors leisurely lounging about inside the living room to the Haddonfield house, Wesker was standing right outside the window, quietly listening in. He had been searching for that fancy dressed buffoon with the electric abilities, needing to gain some information about trials. Evan told him that he could find him here. Unfortunately- or perhaps luckily- his casual search had bestowed him upon this interesting conversation.
"This morning (y/n) had the guts to ask if he was single- ugh, like their pathetic ass could ever get with a guy like him," Kate rolled her eyes and made a gagging gesture, "They're so fucking stupid."
"Ya really think they're into him?" David chuckled, "That's funny. It would suck to be them."
"Yeah, they'll never find a partner," Feng giggled and grinned, "Especially not my sexy Wesker, haha!"
"I told them off," Kate stated with a small glare, "Demi-dumb ass better stay the hell away from him... Pathetic bitch."
On the other side of the wall, Wesker desired doing one of two things. Either smash through the wall and brutally murder those two scumbags for ever thinking that he belonged to anybody, or run straight to you to find out if it was true. Did you really harbor feelings for him?
As more disturbing talk about him and other 'sexy' killers began to pollute the atmosphere, Wesker calmly took his leave without making a bloody scene and headed in the direction of his own realm. Gossip was inevitable. Constantly, no matter what the circumstances, there was always going to be people who talked behind others backs. He had learned long ago not to take what people thought of him into heart. Sure, some things were irritating and he hated being seen as nothing more than a sex attraction, but it is what it is. As long as people didn't act on their stupid feelings, he was fine.
Wesker had only been here a few weeks and countless times already survivors and even a few killers had tried to seduce him. Some of them would praise themselves while using lewd body language, some would straight up ask him if he wanted a 'real' partner, and some had gotten completely naked in an attempt to lure him in. It was safe to say that all those naughty attempts... Had failed.
You were among one of the only survivors who seemed to play right. You were quiet, concentrated and smart, and you never tried to seduce him. Chasing you more often than not served as a tremendous challenge and had him smirking with delight. That and he could tell that you were shy. The way his comments caused your face to light up with color and bashfulness, how you would become so distorted and clumsy and bump into things- he absolutely loved it. He wanted more.
And more he would have.
...
Going into upcoming weeks, Wesker admitted to becoming severely annoyed and impatient. Apparently you were as skilled at hiding in the external realm as you were inside of trials which made it virtually impossible to learn anything about you. He had tried venturing into the survivor woods, but other team mates of yours constantly tried to take up his time and attention when he seriously did not care what they had to say. Asking about you was futile and often got him frustrated reactions. Those imbeciles should know not to test him.
During trials he had gotten more cruel and assertive, abusing uroboros and nearly crushing the skulls of filthy, rotten survivors. He was getting quite fed up with this possessive/obsessive attitude everyone had towards him. And the one person he wanted to find seemed to no longer exist because these perverted idiots had to ruin everything for him. Ugh, it just made him so angry.
All he wanted was to learn more about you; the one appropriate, talented, sane person in this ridiculous hell.
But eventually the wait became worth it. When he finally got a lucky peek at you inside of a trial it was during a, to say the least, messed up moment. He had been on the way to check a generator and had caught the survivor known as Élodie kneeling in front of the hardly working device. Aside from her lacey underwear, she was completely naked.
Almost instantly the veins in Wesker's head throbbed to bursting point, and he was glaring in heavy dissatisfaction at the smirking woman who was moving her rear in obvious suggestion at him. Just as he was about to bring out uroboros, he saw movement from the corner of his eyes and carefully turned his head to see you. Yes, you.
You and your wide horrified eyes that were desperately trying to avert as you saw what was happening. The expression on your face was absolutely priceless. It was like you were a friendly neighbor who accidentally opened the door while their friends were having intimate time. The way you flinched, covered your face and began crouching away had Wesker throbbing with an idea.
"So... You really think that your body is good enough for me?" Wesker asked the question loud and clearly, his hand lifting outwards as he stared down at the half naked woman.
Élodie cocked her hips and puckered her lips in a smirk at the approaching man, "Baby, I 'know' it's good enough for you."
"How amusing that you speak so highly of yourself," Wesker grinned, shot out uroboros and shoved the woman's head back against the rough hill, "I'm not sorry to disappoint you, but the only body I'm interested in is the body that belongs to (y/n)."
Élodie screamed in pain, her body going nearly limp as soon as Wesker retracted uroboros. She tried to get away, but without any clothes or reliable recourse, she was sliced down within seconds. The darkly dressed killer wasted no time in perching the perverted woman on a hook before eagerly sprinting off in search of you.
Wesker refused to let this chance slip through his fingers. Once he realized that you were avoiding him, he began to slice up your other three team members until all that was left was you, Jake, and three broken generators. It took a few rounds of patrolling, but he finally caught you working on a generator in the distance.
Using uroboros, he flew up to you like a snake and, with a force that was far more gentle than what was used on the others, he shoved you against the brick wall. You cried out, expecting the sickness to immediately seep into your body whilst your heart pounded with fear and anticipation. Instead of getting sick, however, the uroboros keeping you pinned slowly inched away from your neck and chest leaving you to blink in confusion.
"If you have an ounce of intelligence, you will not run from me," Wesker breathed in what he wanted to believe was final relief, and he reached up to tear his glasses off because 'fuck' those glasses- they were preventing him from fully admiring his prize.
You stood there in your boring sweatpants, t-shirt and plain jacket, a look of confused horror on your flushed face and-and 'god', Wesker had never imagined that he could be this invested in someone who was so utterly average. Just the fact that almost ninety-five percent of your skin was a mystery to him made him vibrate with excitement. You were the untouched, demisexual survivor who never made deals with the killers and played by your own accord.
You were the survivor that he found himself completely unable to resist.
You, feeling horribly overwhelmed and uncertain of what to do, gazed around anxiously. You didn't know what to do, nor could you guess what exactly was going on. You had been trying to avoid Wesker ever since the other survivors kept bringing you down for asking about him. Having him this close all of the sudden after all that time... It almost made you start hyperventilating in distress. What would he do?
"You've been avoiding me," Wesker stated clearly, bearing down at you with vivid, orange eyes, "Why?"
You looked at him, his expression that of a hungry predator causing you to wince away in tremendous fear and paranoia. "I..." You thought back to everything the others told you and nearly started crying in humiliation, "I-I was just- I'm not avoiding you, I..."
"Did you hear what I said earlier?" Wesker asked, his entire body aching with need to put a cap on this ending so that you both may shed light on a new beginning.
You gaped at him, your eyes glistening with tears as you hesitated, "I-I... I did, but... I-I don't understand... Were you really telling the truth?"
Wesker breathed in, a large smile blooming across his face as he nodded, "Did I sound like I was telling the truth?"
"I..." You shook your head at him, gasping as you go to cover your head in the waves of denial and confusion and heartache, "B-but I'm just an ugly, stupid dud, I-I'm not good enough for you. The others-I... I..."
Ah, so this is why you were avoiding him. Doubt. That was understandable. At least you had just answered one of his many, silent questions; you were interested in him. "Call yourself what you would like, but that is not the way I see you," Wesker took a step forward, gently grabbed your wrists, and slowly pulled them away from your face, "You are talented, intelligent, and you dress in rather boring attire but I cannot deny being allured by it."
"Huh?" You blinked at him with wide, surprised eyes, your body twitching in shock.
It made Wesker grin as he reached up and gently brushed your cheek, "And you're irresistible when praised. Tell me (y/n)... Is that a weakness?"
You uttered a choked noise of embarrassment at him and tilted your heavily flustered face away in an attempt to hide. Absolutely precious, adorable, cute, beautiful... "So it is," Wesker chuckled and used a gloved hand to gently tilt your head back up, "How would you like to be praised by me on a more... 'intimate' level?"
"Y-you mean like a relationship... or just sex?" You asked, wincing whenever you looked up into his blistering reddish-orange eyes. Was this really happening?
Wesker bowed his head and hummed a chuckle, his chest nearly pressing against you as he leaned down and whispered beside your ear, his accent a low pur, "Why would I waste myself on a one night stand when I could be rewarded... With this."
#dead by daylight fanfiction#dbd#dead by daylight#slashers#resident evil#weirdo's fanfiction#albert wesker#albert wesker x reader#Cute and simple#minor violence#Fluff#slasher fanfiction
298 notes
·
View notes
Text
Runaway Part 7- FINAL PART
CW: MDNI, smut with some plot, implied PTSD, domestic violence, female reader, kidnapping, attempted murder, ACTUAL murder, major character death, unprotected sex, creampie, just a lot of violence really, let me know if I've missed anything
A short note, before part 7; when I started writing this last year, it was just a fun hobby. A lot of things happened this year that I never saw coming including the unexpected and tragic death of a close friend, and most recently, emergency surgery (Appendix tried to kill me, it was super fun).
I want to sincerely thank everyone for their patience, kindness, and enthusiasm for this little project that i started, just to start writing again. I can never explain how much it means to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Moving forward, with the completion of this project, I want there to be more. I have been thinking hard about what else I can give you. Thank you so much again. You, reader, gave me reason to write again.
Part Seven
He’s had too much. Entirely too much.
The room spins as Dabi stumbles over to the bar to refill his glass for the… seventh time? Eighth? He’s lost count. Kurogiri is gonna call in an intervention when he sees how much whiskey he has to replace. He giggle-snorts at the thought, crashing down on one of the bar stools, his head lolling in one hand.
What time is it, anyway? He squints at the clock above the bar, it’s 3 am already… he wonders what you’re doing- who you’re doing- no. He stops himself there, literally shaking the thought from his head. Not going there. Can’t.
He thought drinking would help, but it’s only brought him closer to the precipice- a fine line between drinking into oblivion and drinking to the point of vulnerability. He scratches his head, sighs. Before you, it would’ve just been oblivion.
The crew is still out- Shig and Kurogiri are off on some business and unlikely to return until morning. Toga, Twice and Compress went to the club after their mission, so they haven’t been home, either. Nobody knows except him. And he’s gonna have to tell them.
Tell them that you’re gone, something whispers. That you’ve left me. That I’m alone again.
He doesn’t know how to help himself here. He could go to the club, find some easy pussy and lose himself in it, but it doesn’t feel right. In fact, he’s a little worried what he might do to some villain-chaser right now. Clearly his headspace isn’t great.
He can’t tell them all yet. He just can’t do it. The words are stuck in his throat, like glue, making it hard to swallow.
But you are gone.
And it’s his fault.
Dabi throws the glass of whiskey at the wall, watching in satisfaction as it bursts into a million messy pieces, whiskey dribbling onto the floor. Then he puts his head down on the bar, folds his arms over it, and wills himself to sleep.
Dabi isn’t sure how long he sleeps before rough, cold hands grasp the back of his shirt and begin to shake him, frantically. Groaning, Dabi doesn’t even open his eyes before he begins to shove at whoever has hold of him.
“Gettoff,” he moans. “Fuckin’-stop-!” Oh Jesus, he’s gonna hurl if they don’t stop-
“Dabi. Wake up.” Hawks’ clear, cold voice is enough to force Dabi to crack his eyes, gazing up at the winged hero blearily.
“The fuck- get offa me, bird brain-"
“Dabi, she’s gone. They took her.”
Dabi’s eyes widen, suddenly sober, already turning on the barstool to face Hawks. “What?”
“Inferno- or his men- they have her- they left this.” Hawks shoves a crumpled note into Dabi’s hands.
Dabi smoothes it out on the bar, reads it.
Come after your plaything, and I will make it a thousand times more painful for her than it need be.
“Well?” Hawks is watching Dabi, still frantic, expectant, wings shaking. “We need to move. We only have so much time-"
Dabi leans over the bar and wretches, the contents of his stomach spattering across the tiled floor.
Before you even open your eyes, you can feel the pounding headache radiating from the back of your skull. Fuck. A whimper tears itself, unbidden, from your throat.
“Boss, she’s waking up.”
“Good. He’ll have questions.”
Opening your eyes is no use; you’ve been blindfolded, and your hands are restrained; they feel weak, useless.
Quirk-cancelling cuffs, you realize, as fear takes hold and begins to grow.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
No Hawks. No Dabi. No Quirk.
Fuck.
You know you’re in the back of a car; you smell cigarette smoke, feel cold air blowing on your face from an open window. Shadows and streetlights flash by, disorienting you to a world unknown outside of the blindfold. You lick your lips, test your voice.
“Hello?” It comes out in a croak.
Someone cuffs you hard in the back of your already-throbbing head, and you jump, half cowering in your seat.
“Shut your fucking mouth. You’ll have plenty to say when we get there.”
You don’t recognize these voices. They are rough, deep. Nothing like Inferno’s smooth baritone.
Hired hands, you figure, as you clamp your mouth shut. He wants to scare me.
You resolve to show no fear. It’s likely you’re going to die, you’re not stupid. At least you tried. But you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you afraid. Straightening your spine, you settle back against the seat and wait.
Another twenty minutes feels endless as the car twists and turns along the roads. How far are they taking me? Panic threatens to bubble up, but you swallow hard, forcing it down. Panic won’t help anything. You can still see the flashes of streetlights, so you’re at least still in the city.
Maybe there’s time- no. You won’t let yourself believe it. You won’t let yourself hope. They’ll never find you in time… this is it. The very least you can do is try to remain calm.
The vehicle comes to a slow halt, brakes screeching. You feel the shift as the driver gets out, rocking the vehicle, and slams the door, making you jump slightly. Someone laughs, alarmingly close to your ear.
“Scared, sweetheart?” It’s a mean, gloating voice. “Don’t worry, the fun’s only just beginning.”
“Fuck you,” you bite out. A surprised silence comes, followed by a sudden and ringing blow to your right cheek.
“Talk to me like that again-" the voice threatens, but is cut off as the vehicle door opens on your side. A sudden cool rush of air hits you in the face as you try to straighten up.
“Hey, hey- we can’t hit her. Boss wants her untouched.”
This would be relieving, except… “yeah, so he gets all the fun,” is muttered sullenly by your assailant. “C’mon then, bitch. Can’t be late,” he continues, pushing you out of the vehicle so hard you nearly topple over.
Another set of hands grasps your shoulders roughly, keeping you from falling, and then seizes your right arm and steers you straight ahead. “Let’s go.” The second voice leaves no room for negotiation.
You are led through two sets of doors and into an elevator; your blindfold has shifted slightly, allowing you to see from a very bottom corner. Three seats of black shoes surround you.
The buttons sing their staccato notes cheerfully as one of your assailants punches them, and then you are being whisked up, up, up. It’s not until the elevator doors open again that a cold blast of wind hits you, and you realize you’re on a rooftop. Fear floods your belly, makes you squirm in your bindings.
“Please- just tell me who you are-"
“I said shut the fuck up-" the man who hit you before begins to shout, and you brace yourself for another blow.
“There’s no need for that,” a voice says, and your blood runs cold. “Let her go.”
Hands instantly release you as the blindfold is lifted off of your face.
In front of you stands- Jesus, it’s really him- Inferno, taller than you remember, larger than life and twice as hideous- and smiling down at you triumphantly.
“Hello, darling.”
The wind is cold up here. Shivering, you glance around and instantly get dizzy. You are on a rooftop- which one, you’re not sure- but it’s a skyscraper. You can see the whole of the city from this building. It would be beautiful if you weren’t frozen in dread.
“Husband,” you greet Inferno formally, tamping down the icy chill of your fear. Swallow it. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
His lips twitch in dark amusement as he gestures to a chair leaning against the wall. “Please, have a seat. There’s so much I need to ask you.”
Head held high, you turn and walk, sitting neatly down on the chair before facing him expectantly. He watches you, raises one brow.
“Something different about you,” he observes, musing.
You strive for a look of polite indifference. “Oh? How so?”
His eyes burn into yours. “You always used to be more afraid.”
You stare back at him, trying to remain cool, aloof. “I’ve learned some hard lessons, Husband.”
He makes a mental decision; one to play along with your demeanor. After a moment's hesitation, he joins you, sitting in a chair across from you. “You don’t look very afraid,” he says, as though he’s confiding in you. “That’s the biggest, anyway. Difference, I mean.”
You shrug. “Maybe there were several lessons.”
“Such as?” He asks, politely, keeping up the facade. And why shouldn’t he? You think. He’s won. He can afford to play along, get some sick twist out of this.
You lift your chin again, staring him straight back in the eye. “Such as… I’m not the little mouse you always wanted me to be. I’m actually quite strong.”
He smiles, kindly. “You realize you have to die.”
You nod. “I do.” You wonder briefly, how you can possibly sound so serene… but common sense is long gone now. You’re just playing a part, a role, until it’s time. You only pray that it’s fast.
Inferno nods slowly, taking in the calm across your face. “I thought about how I would have to do it,” he adds, conversationally. “The media sees me as this frantic, adoring husband. So it couldn’t be anything too public; knowing you, if you had any time at all to try to save yourself, you’d lose your senses and start screaming to anyone within earshot that you’re innocent. Which you’re not, you’ve never been.”
He’s watching your face carefully, waiting to see any flash of emotion betray your cool features. You merely sigh, contemplatively, then shrug.
“That’s probably fair,” you allow. He smirks.
“I briefly considered a mass murder… your whole family, framing you. A bomb in the house, perhaps. Cut brake lines on a family trip. Which they have gone on, since you’ve been gone, by the way.”
That one hurts. You can’t tell if he’s lying or not. Probably not a family trip; probably getting out of town to avoid the shame of being related to you after all of Inferno’s stories hit the press, but still. He wants to hurt you. If he can take your family’s embarrassment and consequential fleeing and twist it as a way to cause you further pain, of course he will.
All this reasoning flies through your mind as he watches you carefully. “They didn’t come looking for you,” he concludes.
You shake your head. “They always liked you better than me, anyway.”
Inferno laughs loudly at this, tossing his head back. “Well, they’ve always had a distaste for weakness.” He resumes eyeing you closely, almost contemplatively. “They might like you more now. The y/n I knew before would have been hysterical by now, crying for mercy.”
You recognize it in his tone; he’s disappointed. A sudden rush of euphoria comes over you; he may be about to kill you, may be about to take you away from Dabi, from Hawks, from everything you’ve ever known- but he’s not getting the reaction he wants from you.
A small victory, but an important one, nonetheless.
You hold eye contact with him and let the smallest smirk play out from the corners of your mouth. “The y/n that you knew was beaten down after years of abuse and your pathetic,” you say the word slowly, let it drip with disgust, “male fragility.”
Inferno’s face barely registers, except the familiar spark of violence flaring just behind his eyes as he listens to you insult his ego.
“The y/n before you, however…” you let your voice trail off, considering. “Well, if given half a chance, she would kill you where you stand.” You smile at him benignly, and then add, “slowly, so that you suffer.”
He backhands you before you see it coming; you’re thrown from the seat, unable to cover your face with your still-bound hands. The coppery taste of blood fills your mouth as you’re hauled to your feet by one of his snickering henchmen.
“Enough playing around,” Inferno is muttering, mostly to himself. “My patience has run out.” He reaches into his back pocket and for a second-you flinch, expecting a gun, a quick shot, and then nothing. Instead, he pulls out an envelope, flicks it open to withdraw a letter and waves it under your nose.
“This is your goodbye to your family,” he shares, calmer now that his triumph is so close. More so, your suicide letter.” He pauses, letting you take this in, before he continues. “In it, you apologize for the monster that you became. For being an abusive spouse and a worthless daughter. For never amounting to anything worth speaking of in life. You were so ashamed of yourself and all the trouble that you caused, that you simply could not bear to live anymore. It will go here,” he reaches around you and places it in your pocket, “so that when they find your body, it will be one of the first things they see.”
You spit the blood that’s pooled in your mouth at his feet, missing a shiny leather shoe by just half an inch. “I’d rather die exactly as I am right now then spend another living second as your wife.” You bare your teeth in a snarl. “And I will haunt you for the rest of your miserable fucking existence, you coward.”
He smiles again. “What sweet sentiment, darling. I hope you remain this brave when you’re falling fifty stories and splattering against the concrete.” Before you can process this, he’s turning to the lackeys. “Take her.”
“Fuck you,” you roar, as filthy hands began to drag you to the edge of the building. “Fuck you, you miserable fucking cowardly piece of shit-"
You’re dragged still further to the edge. The sounds of traffic waft up, horns honking, people shouting, completely oblivious to the fact that a murder is taking place above their heads.
You close your eyes, swallow hard.
I’m sorry, angel. Please don’t blame Hawks.
Please know how much I loved you.
It all happens so quickly.
You are waiting for the shove, for your feet to leave the ground, when a flash of blue fire and a surge of heat nearly knock you to the ground. A scream sounds to your left, high pitched and desperate; The man who was dragging you to the edge of the roof, who was right next to you a second ago, is gone. You spin to see Inferno, whose face is a black mask of rage, stalking towards the opposite end of the roof.
“Seize her! Nobody gets away tonight!” He roars, and begins throwing flames at random, aiming for some unseen target.
There’s no time to process any of it.
Next to you, still smoking, is a rather large pile of black ash.
“What the fuck-”
The familiar whoosh of wings drowns you out, and suddenly Hawks is there, landing beside you and frantically looking over your cuffs. His lip is bleeding, golden eyes narrowed, focused.
“Hey, kid-” his voice breaks with relief as you struggle to comprehend what’s happening.
“Thought we lost you there for a sec,” he continues, gloved hands fluttering over your wrists as he tries to figure out how to undo the cuffs. You’re speechless, buzzing with adrenaline, when you’re distracted by another blue burst of light to your left.
You whirl to see Dabi, beautiful, glorious Dabi, his face murderous with rage, killing anyone and everyone he can get his hands on. Henchmen scream and scatter, running for the door and dropping to the floor amidst flames as they try. Inferno stands opposite of him, trying to blast Dabi with wave after wave of fire, to no avail. Dabi’s flames are bigger than you’ve ever seen them, so bright they’re almost blinding.
“What-how…”
“That doesn’t matter right now. We need to get you out of here. Out of the country, probably.” Hawks mutters, more to himself than to you. And then, “Goddamn it! Where is the key to these things?” And then “fuck, shit, hold on-” he turns just as a henchman sneaks up on him, knife in hand, and shoves you to the ground as he dodges. Just as quickly, you jump to your feet, ignoring the ache pounding through your skull from a culmination of hard hits this evening, and chase after the two, now engaged fully in hand to hand combat.
The man swipes here and there with the knife; Hawks cold-cocks him directly in the face, and then whips out a couple feathers to pin the man to the ground.
“Kill him!” You yell, but Hawks turns to face you, looks over your shoulder, and blanches.
Someone grabs you by the hair and throws you back down. “On the ground where you belong, you fucking bitch.”
The voice from the car, the same man who hit you, now stands above you with a gun. “I promised the boss I would finish this-”
He doesn’t get to finish anything, not even his sentence. He lets out a guttural groan as Hawks stabs him in the back, pushing the knife through his chest, and drops, nearly on top of you. Shoving him aside, you scramble up.
“How did they get into the hotel?” Hawks yells, throwing himself into a defensive crouch in front of you and wielding a feather like sword.
You want to answer him, but another henchman is heading your way, eyes wild.
“Doesn’t matter right now,” you parrot Hawks, using your bound hands to swing out at your attacker, hitting him straight in the face and knocking him to his feet. Hawks finishes him off as you whirl to watch Dabi and Inferno. You’re not sure when it began to rain, but it’s raining nonetheless; coming down fast in cold, unforgiving sheets. You watch, feeling as though you are in a dream, as bursts of blue and orange fire burn against the downpour. This doesn’t feel real.
If I make it through this, you think, I will never make the same mistakes again.
This fight- this raging, bloody battle- is a culmination of what your life was, and what it will be. No longer will you be the one who runs away. If only you or Inferno get to leave this rooftop tonight, it’s sure as hell going to be you.
You are done running. You are done hiding. Forever.
“Toga, do you see anything?” Hawks yells over his shoulder.
What?
You blink in disbelief as the little blond scurries across the roof, presumably out of nowhere, several backpacks in hand.
“Nothing yet. Hi, honey!” She chirps, as if this isn’t quite literally a life-threatening situation. “Don’t worry about a thing, we’ll get you loose in no time.”
“Toga- hurry-” You’re watching Dabi and Inferno dance across the roof in a frenzied battle, blasting at each other and dodging the other’s fire. “I have to help-”
With a quick scan of the rooftop, you can see that all of the henchman are either gone- escaped, dead, or close to it; several bodies lay charred and smoking on the concrete. It’s down to Dabi and Inferno.
Dabi practically dances as he moves, fighting with skills beyond anything you’ve seen yet. For one brief moment, his eyes connect with yours and hold you there, a thousand unspoken words flowing between you, and the world goes silent.
And then you see it.
Inferno has been pushing Dabi back towards the edge of the roof. Dabi’s steps are a little uneven, as though he’s been drinking- oh god, you realize, as your heart drops into your stomach. He probably has. Not enough to be incapacitated, clearly, but enough not to notice some small, but very important details…such as being backed into a corner…or rather, a ledge.
Now that he’s so close to it, Inferno is increasing his fire, pushing Dabi back inch by inch, little by little, to his impending death.
“NO!” You scream, and Dabi’s eyes flash to yours, and you know that he’s realized it, too. “Toga, get me out of this NOW-”
“I’ve got it, I’ve got it-” Toga’s hands scramble against the cuffs, a loud, clear click finally freeing you from your Quirkless prison. You turn back to the fight just in time to see Dabi fumbling, dangerously close to falling to his death, and Inferno, manic and beyond all reason, lifting his hands to administer one last blast of fire-
“NO,” you scream again, and without hesitation, throw your hands forward. Inferno is thrown into the air like a rag doll, struggling as his body lifts into the air and sways, fighting your power with all he has.
Months ago, your fear would have trumped your Quirk, and you probably would have lowered him back to the ground, afraid of what he would do to you if he survived.
Now, you have no such qualms.
You hold him there, in the air, watching as the force of your Quirk turns him slowly to face you, to gaze down at you with panicked contempt, and you hold his gaze.
There. Look at me.
Look at what you’ve done to yourself.
With every ounce of strength left in you, you heave your arms to the left.
Inferno screams as his body is tossed from the top of the skyscraper. He screams all the way down.
The sickening thud of his body hitting the sidewalk below is what breaks you from your reverie, panting.
Dabi is frozen at the edge of the rooftop, staring down at what’s left of Inferno. You can just barely hear Hawks speaking to you as though he’s a mile away.
Exhaustion hits you like a bus, dragging you back down to earth.
And then;
You are vaguely aware of your legs giving out beneath you, collapsing and landing hard against the wet cement on the roof. Through the rain and the blood and the blinding pain, you can’t see anything. You can feel your consciousness slipping through your fingers, hurtling you towards blessed, peaceful darkness, when from far away you hear Dabi.
He sounds a million miles away, echoey, vague. The rough sandpaper of his voice scratches at you, tries to keep you awake.
“Hey, baby, hey-”
“Tired,” you mutter, feeling warm hands wrap around your upper arms, pulling you into his lap, his belt buckle pushing into your left shoulder blade. “Hurts.”
“I know baby, I know it hurts- look at me baby, look at me, don't go to sleep, baby, okay, don’t-” he pleads; breathless, his voice cracking. “Please, baby, don’t do this to me, don’t do this to me baby please, don’t you dare do this to me…” his voice rises in octave, you can hear this panic in his voice and want more than anything to stay awake just to calm him down, but your body pulls you towards sleep with the seductive drag of quicksand, pulling you from him, no matter how hard you try to stay.
“Love you,” you whisper, and then everything goes dark.
When you wake up again, you’re in Dabi’s bed. You sigh, automatically going to stretch and then letting out a sound of distress when you feel how sore you are.
And then you remember.
You bolt upright, wincing, gasping as you take in the room.
“Baby.”
You look down to see Dabi, roused from sleep, lifting his head from the side of the bed.
“Dabi- what…?”
“He’s dead,” he says abruptly. “You finished it. He’s dead.”
You don’t know what happens- one second you’re staring at Dabi, blankly processing. The next, your body is wracked with sobs. From relief, from fear or from guilt, or maybe a combination of all three.
“Hey, baby hey…” Dabi’s arms go around you. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”
You lean into his chest, unable to stop sobbing, chest heaving, your fingers curling into his T-shirt and clinging to him.
“What happened?” You choke out. “After I-”
“Hawks told the commission that it was a villain.”
“WHAT?”
“He told the commission that he had been on patrol- which, technically, he was- and saw Inferno fighting with an unknown villain. He said he was flying in to help, but before he could get there, the villain threw him from the roof.” Dabi slowly shakes his head, mournfully. “Just couldn’t get there in time.” He peeks at you, his eyes glowing.
You let out a long, slow sigh. “Will he get in trouble?”
“I doubt it. He had to be interviewed a few times by the commission and gave the police a signed statement. I doubt they'll look much past that.”
You nod slowly, letting this sink in. “So they have no idea that I’m still around?”
“No. Nobody even mentioned you. I’m sure if you wanted to come forward now, and tell the truth, the media would eat it up, but I’m not sure how much you want to do that…”
“I don’t.” The thought of the media makes bile rise in your throat. “Ever.”
Dabi watches you carefully. “So that means…”
“I’m okay with staying missing,” you finish for him. You look up into his brilliant azure eyes. “I’ve found my family. If they’ll still have me,” you add, quietly.
Half a second later, Dabi’s arms are crushing you to his chest, almost knocking you off the bed entirely.
“I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” His voice breaks. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I’m sorry. I put everyone at risk, I wasn’t thinking, I was stupid.”
Dabi grasps your chin and forces you to meet his eyes. “You are never stupid. I was angry and said shit I shouldn’t have and never will again. Forgive me, baby, please.”
You stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, Dabi’s eyes searching yours.
“Yes,” you breathe, and he kisses you, gently. Too gently, in your opinion. You lean forward, pushing more forcefully against his mouth, sighing when he gives way and lets you gently bite down on his lower lip.
Dabi groans into your mouth, his whole body stiffening against yours, before he begins to pull away.
“No,” you whine, but he sits back anyway.
“You’re still healing. We shouldn’t.”
“Yes, we should. I’m fine.” You sit up straight as though to prove this, only wincing slightly. He laughs ruefully, then leans down to kiss you again. This time the kiss is harder, more urgent- from both of you. Bravely, you shuffle into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Doll, I don’t know if…” He’s torn, debating between showing you how he feels or letting you rest, knowing you need both.
“Please. Need you,” you mutter, fingers ghosting his cheeks, his jawline, his collarbone. “Please, Dabi.”
Something inside him breaks.
“Touya,” he breathes into your hair and he slips inside you. A gasp strangles your throat, hands scrambling for purchase against his arms as he fills you gently, slowly. “Call me Touya.”
“Touya,” you whisper, and Jesus fucking Christ he whimpers, forehead pressed against yours as he gently fucks himself into you. You’re only too aware that this is a gift he’s giving to you, the ultimate trust, the only thing he has to protect, his real name. Gently, you cup his cheeks and lift his half-lidded gaze to yours. “Thank you, Touya.”
He lets out a ragged gasp, pressing his lips to yours, hard, urgently.
“Missed you. Missed you so much,” he chokes between kisses, and begins to move inside you.
This is nothing like it’s been before. Instead of pounding, biting and punishing you, Touya moves softly, insistently; easy, shallow thrusts that keep you on the edge as melds his mouth to yours. One hand twists in your hair, the other cupping your breasts one at a time, squeezing softly.
“Tou-hah, Touya,” you whine, lifting your hips to his, encouraging. “Harder- please.”
He groans, daring to thrust just a little bit harder. “My girl, my baby,” he pants. “Never losing you again. Never, baby. ‘M so sorry. ‘M so sorry.”
You want to tell him to stop apologizing, stop feeling sorry but you can’t- can’t do anything but sigh as he fucks you steadily, clinging to his shoulders as he wraps his arms around you, gasping into your neck, whispering apologies and sweet words of praise. “My good girl, you feel so good baby, never losing you again….”
It’s too much. Your walls are beginning to tighten, and he almost loses himself then and there, pausing to whine against your collarbone, hot breath fanning over your neck as he pants desperately.
“Please, please, Touya- I’m s-I’m so close.” You’re crying, overwhelmed by the gentleness he is giving you, your need to cum overshadowing any worries you might have for your healing body. “‘M so close, please I-”
“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he gasps, long fingers grasping your hips as he moves hesitantly.
“I’m not gonna break,” you promise against his lips, and when his mouth opens against yours, gently biting down. “Need you, please-”
A deep, guttural groan tears itself from Touya’s chest; One hand wraps gently around the back of your head, holding you against his shoulder, the other grasping your hip to keep you still, concerns for your injuries still in the back of his lust-fogged mind. He begins to fuck you in earnest, thrusting harder, deeper, listening as your muffled cries reach fever pitch before reaching down to rub your clit with his thumb.
“Come on, baby. Need you to cum for me, need you to cum on me,” he begs, watching as your eyes roll back in your skull. “Wanna feel you. I need it…. Please,” he begs, his breath rapid and ragged as he falls apart against you. “Let go for me, baby.”
You shatter around him, keening, your back arching so that you are flush against him, and you sound so pretty and look so heartbreakingly beautiful that he can’t help but follow you quickly, gushing inside your fluttering walls, painting them with cum as his whimpers reverberate against your collarbone.
“Never losing your again,” he gasps, letting his hips buck into you, fucking you full. “Never.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Not without you,” you pant, carding your fingers through his hair as he nestles his face into your neck, still shaking from the aftershocks of his orgasm. “I’m not leaving, Touya. I’m here.”
You stay there for a long time; Touya collapsed on top of you, arms wrapped around each other, even as he softens inside you.
He mutters something, so quietly you can’t catch it. “What, baby?”
He turns his head so that he can talk low, directly in your ear, close enough to hear the exact moment his voice breaks.
“Love you,” he mutters. “I love you so fucking much.”
Tears leak from your eyes at this admission, blurring everything; the room, him, your fears. “I love you, Touya.”
“Say it again,” he begs, and you feel his cock twitch inside you, coming back to life. You whine at the feeling; your cunt is sore, your body is tired, but you want him so badly in this moment of raw confession that you don’t care. “I love you,” you coo, letting your hips buck against his, pleading, encouraging him. “Love you so much, baby. Need you.”
“Fuck,” he breathes, and begins to move again.
Epilogue
You decide to attend Inferno’s funeral.
Not right up front, of course- it would be far too easy to be recognized. You don’t even get close to the main crowd- despite knowing the real Inferno, he had a lot of people fooled. The main crowd attending the funeral, the ones who are close enough to surround the gravestone with armfuls of flowers are all upper level Pro Heroes. You linger, in a black mask and sunglasses, towards the gate of the cemetery, nearly trailing out to the road, with hundreds of civilian fans.
Touya is not with you. In the event that someone does recognize you, despite all your precautions, Touya waits across the street in an inconspicuous getaway car. You glance over your shoulder several times to make sure he’s still there. Every time, he meets your eyes calmly, reassuringly.
He’d told you to take your time.
Make no mistake; this is not an act of love, grief, or regret. The way you’d explained it to Touya was the best way you could sum it up; you have to do this, to be here, to be sure he’s really dead. Otherwise, you’re sincerely worried that you will be looking over your shoulder the rest of your life.
I need that part of me to die today, too, you’d told him. This fear, this trauma, must be buried with him today, never to haunt you again.
Despite Touya telling you to take your time, you don’t stay for long. You listen to the priest begin his speech, reading from a book you’ve never believed in, and then turn, wending through the crowd, and make your way across the street.
Touya has left the car running; he flips the locks and watches you climb in, smoothing your black dress over your thighs as you settle against the leather seat.
“Good?” His voice is soft, gentle.
“Good.”
He nods, pulling the car into the road, and squeals the tires as loudly as he can as the car accelerates. You smirk at him as heads whip around to stare.
“Always have to have the last word, right?”
He shrugs, smirks back. “ ‘Course.”
Reaching over, he threads his fingers through yours, rests your intertwined hands on your knee. You sit in companionable silence for a while as the roads flash by.
“So.” You squeeze his hand.
“So?” He prompts.
You turn to him, smile. “What’s next?”
End.
#dabi smut#dabi#mha smut#dabi x reader#touya x you#touya x reader#dabi x you#league of villians x reader#touya#league of villains x reader
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rating all Raph's because I can
can we do it?
YES WE CAN.
Going off personality, character development, design etc
80s Raphael
No because this Raph took the cake for being the sass king- straight away from Donnie
It may be because Rob Paulsen voiced this mf, but holy shit is he fun to listen to.
No complaints, this Raph was funny and I love it. Made mfs SCARED of his sarcasm- he’s great. He’s not a personality type we’re used to for Raph though, he may fit Donnie’s- but either way, I love it.
This Raph was more sarcastic than anything, he wasn’t really mad.
Not much on the character development, and there’s nothing really memorable about his design since him and his brothers look similar!
3/5 ⭐️⭐️⭐️
2003 Raphael
Okay, THIS ONE.
This is it.
This the one yall, still sarcastic as FUCK, and his comedic timing is everything. He probably doesn't even mean to be funny and just says whatever mean shit he's thinking up in his head
He’s by far the most witty cunt in this whole 2003 series. I also love him x Casey Jones broship I’m here for it guys.
I loved his development and evolution up until the last ep, it wasn’t like Leo’s character development, but I still enjoyed Raph’s all the same.
Nothing strikingly different on his design, but his accent is the most notable!
4.5/5! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️✨
2007 Raphael
TOTALLY NOT BIASED AT ALL GUYS 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁
THIS RAPH. I love this Raph
It may be bc he’s the best looking in this one but idc He is so FINE.
Ahem this is about personality not looks so
As for his personality in the 2007 movie, he has his lil corny sarcastic jokes here and there
Knows how to “show a lady a good time” according to Casey mf Jones
He went viral in NYC. HE WENT VIRAL IN NYC. AS A VIGILANTE. HE MADE HEADLINES. HES THE GOAT.
I also have mad respect for 2007 Raph bc Leo straight up said he was better than Raph and the only thing Raph did was laugh at him he has more restraint than me fr fr
Bc me personally
I wouldn’t take that level of disrespect
Idk what restraint Raph had not to BITCH SLAP his brother, but I would’ve in a heartbeat for sayin that LMAO
His design is great, he’s the only brother with the amber eyes, while Leo & Donnie have light/dark brown, and Mikey has baby blue! He has his alt persona as the Nightwatcher, and his character development is rushed given its a movie, but you clearly see his transition from resenting Leo into accepting the fact that Leonardo took that absence to work on himself for his brothers.
4/5 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
2012 Raphael
Hear me out rq
I enjoyed this Raph-
I really loved 2012 Raph because they always showed him caring for his brothers and pets! This was kind of the first time we got softie Raph and I’m so happy they added moments of him being soft- I would’ve rated him lower if he was strictly just mean and showed no vulnerability.
he’s getting a higher rank than intended because when he’s mean, it’s literally justified, ESPECIALLY with Spider Bitez omfg that man pissed me AWFF. He’s a good balance of sarcastic and mean honestly!
He had great development and evolution as a character, he took what Splinter said and applied it everytime, & he also didn’t just have unjustifiable anger bursts.
His design is the most unique Raph we’ve seen by FAR. He’s the only brother with bright electric green eyes, and a crack in his shell in the shape of a lightning bolt.
5/5 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Bayverse Raphael
He calls Leo on his b.s. I love it. He called him out on keeping shit from him and I loved it. Mikey was begging this man not to, and he didn’t give a fuck. He did it anyway. Raph doesn’t take shit from anyone, INCLUDING LEO.
I also loved this version of him, in the second movie, he really comes to terms with being a mutant and having to hide from the world. That being said, I enjoyed his development in the second movie, though it isn’t as evident. It’s a movie, and unlike the 2007 movie where it’s mainly focused on Raph (it was supposed to be a trilogy, where the movies focused on one of the turtles! Luckily they picked Raph & his relationship w/ Leo for the first movie before they went bankrupt LMAO) it’s focused on the bigger picture. This was definitely a fan movie for those who already know why each character acts the way they do.
His design is…interesting? I couldn’t actually see them, but I’ve read somewhere he has tattoos? Leonardo has the most, but I couldn’t even see them? I only saw the symbols on his shell & bandana- I’m not sure if they were talking about that as being tattoos. Bayverse Raph brings back those amber eyes from 2007 Raph! I love me some golden eyed Raphael guys
Anyway, his personality was nice! They showed that he has fears despite his size. He has morals, and recognized the benefit of being human all the while realizing normal will change nothing internally but everything externally.
3.5/5! ⭐️⭐️⭐️✨
Rise! Raphael
This is the first ever Raph as the unofficial leader! He’s taken Leo’s role and made it his own in this series!
That being said, I see why they had to change his personality up. He’s more upbeat, way less mean. He’s more soft. Not that I’m complaining, but I see why lowkey sometimes Leo don’t be listening to him / the other turtles don’t really take him serious? He LIGHTLY puts his foot down, he’s like the cool substitute who’ll let you use the bathroom the whole period, or the old rich auntie that gives you a wad of cash every time you and the family get together at the BBQ.
I also see a slight trend now, Raph’s becoming the largest character. I don’t know, it makes him distinctively different, but I enjoyed when he was the shortest in the 2012 version, he’s a small dog with a big bite.
Anyway, he’s a cutie in this series! His design is very unique, & his lil tooth makes him look less intimidating. I wish we could get some more on the development side for Rise!Raph, but the series isn’t done! So there’ll probably be more!
3.5/5!⭐️⭐️⭐️✨
Masterlist
#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt#raphael#tmnt 2012#bayverse tmnt#tmnt 2007#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise!tmnt#tmnt raphael
117 notes
·
View notes
Note
OOUGH I AM GRABBING YOUR FUCKED UP RANGER HE LOOKS SO DISGUSTING I LOVE IT!!!!!!!! I love a corruption arc sooooo much!!! How did it happen, did Quake finally capture him and change him, or something else?
Thank you, he's been really fun to draw! I kinda think I'd like to make him even worse, or be kinda malleable with his design, but as it turns out I'm not actually great at coming up with lots of ideas for body horror, n what I've got so far is about the limit of my imagination eheheh
As for what happened to him, no, he was never captured and corrupted or anything! All of his physical changes are self-inflicted, though he doesn't realize that, and could easily be reversed, though he's not aware of that, either. The short version is, he's come into contact with an immense amount of arcane energy, both from handling the runes that make up the fabric of the universe (with his bare hands, no less!!) and in slaying all the most powerful entities that could possibly call themselves Quake- Shub, Armagon, that dragon in Dissolution of Eternity, and Cthon for the second time in Dimension of the Machine. Through conquest, through will, through the steady accumulation of achievement (and arcane runes,) he has become the most powerful entity in the sprawling, nightmarish realms of Quake, and Champion of the Machine besides. Effectively, he IS Quake, and with the power to warp reality to his will, he could do anything he wants.
The problem is, he doesn't realize this. Oh, he has some understanding that the runes are powerful and grant power to their weilders, and some vague impression that the Machine isn't a realm itself, but a place between, a connection between realms, but he doesn't know that he controls it. The slipgates always lead him to some new nightmare realm full of monsters because that's what they've always done in his experience, so that's what he expects them to do, and so that's what they do. And the monsters in those realms have always attacked him, so that's what he expects them to do, so that's what they do. He is, unknowingly, commanding the very world that he controls to be hostile to him, simply because he is unaware that he could do anything else- or that he is doing it at all.
In theory, this could go on infinitely unchanging, endless slipgates to endless realms, until he eventually made his way back to the Machine, only to begin again with a new slipgate. The problem, his physical change, began when he started to wonder if he was entirely human anymore. It started out just as wondering if he ever would see another living, friendly human again, because aside from just being all hostile, all of the even vaguely humanoid things he comes across are still distinctly not human- not even the ones that definitely were human once, like the Operation Counterstrike zombies. Then he began to think how strange, or coincidental, or unlikely it was that he was the only human that should be there.
Then he began to wonder if, maybe, it wasn't actually that strange at all that he was the only human, because maybe, he wasn't actually all that human anymore. How long had it been- centuries? Millenia? Longer? Humans don't live that long, he was pretty sure. And he didn't know exactly what those runes were capable of, but he'd held them, felt their power as it made his skin rupture and blood burst from his veins, as they forced arcane secrets into his head. Surely, that would leave some sort of lasting effect. And simply existing in the space of the Machine- a place that bends and breaks the rules of what he knows- humans couldn't exist there. They simply couldn't.
So he wondered if he was still human, or if he was changing, or when the change had begun, or when the signs of it would start to show.
By the time he was injured- arm nearly slashed off- he was quite convinced that he couldn't be human any more, because a human couldn't survive that, and he was certain, at any moment, the physical changes would start manifesting themselves.
And because he was the one in control, and he expected it to happen, it did.
So now, here he is, changed, grotesque, very much not human, all of it by his own hand, and all of it undoable, if only he realized he was the one who did it.
#pikspeak#quake#*hecks up ur ranger*#im glad u like him tho i definitely want to do more w him#theres still a lot more i need to work out abt him so any asks are welcome 🥺
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
just game ch.1
Pairing: Scaramouche x Xiao x f!Reader
Tags: nsfw (mdni!) unspecified relationship, modern au, threesome, blowjob
After a hard and busy day at university, for you and your friends a quick game of something distracting and relaxing online was something ordinary, but coincidentally the "quick game" that evening lasted for several hours.
The three of you lived in the same building of the student dormitory, but it was much more convenient to play together online. Tonight was filled with endless rounds of poker.
"Can you hurry up?" Snorted Skara tilting her head back, waiting for Xiao's move.
"You know what, unlike you, I actually analyse my cards and try to play including my brain," Xiao replies rolling her eyes and then smirks when she hears you chuckle. "All I'm saying is that I didn't win last round for nothing, and before that."
"Beginner's luck," you say, arching your eyebrows at the bridge of your nose in a sign of doubt at his skill than earns you a smile from Skara.
The game continued and the three of you bantered and laughed at each other as usual, making Scaramouche's next words a little dubious.
"Xiao. I swear to you, if you win this round too, I'll go to bed now and block you."
"I bet you just want to jerk off, don't you?"
"Of course, what else would I be thinking about but jerking off," Scaramouche jokes in a mocking tone, making you burst out laughing.
"You're thinking about her more than you're thinking about what's for dinner."
"So that's our bet for tonight?" you ask, not waiting for the guys to continue arguing.
"Does the loser have to jerk off in public?" asks Xiao, and the light of the monitor screen reflects in his eyes in the dark room as he waits for an answer.
"I agree." You shrug and hear Skara sigh slightly before agreeing with the two of you.
"You're just fucking nuts."
Suddenly there was a lot more depending on the poker game than some fake money. Ironically, Skara is on a losing streak, and he loudly curses every horrible hand that follows his incredible attempts at bluffing.
"We're all going to enjoy this spectacle," Xiao slyly chants as a new giveaway occurs.
Now there was only one choice of who would win, and the options were that it was either you or Xiao, however each of you were glad that at least you had spared yourself the embarrassment of losing and fulfilling such an embarrassing condition.
You decided to go va-ban, just confident that with your straight flush there was no way you could lose. And so you did, until…
…until you saw Scaramouche's cards. Royal fucking flush.
"Shit," you exhale. Game over for you.
"Uh-oh… Someone's not very happy, is he?"
"Shut the hell up…" you say, defeated one step before you win.
Xiao's in first place, Skara's in second, and you… you had to honour the terms of the bet. Terms that you yourself suggested. Is it safe to assume that the trap has been sprung?
"You don't really have to do that, you know, you can just poof," Skara says with a smirk. It stretches so caustically across his face when you show him the middle finger.
"Fuck you guys," you shudder nervously at the thought of having to do something like that.
"Seriously, you don't have to…" says Xiao, each of his words getting softer and softer as you snort and correct the camera, pointing it at your lower body. The guys gaze slides down your legs and stops on your thighs that were only covered by a long t-shirt.
Yes, at that moment, any other normal person would have backed off. But a clear realisation immediately ran through your head that if you didn't fulfil your own condition, for months you'd be haunted by the guys' taunts, which would definitely contain the words 'baller' or 'twaddle'. The second thought was to watch their reaction. You could bet again that these two just wouldn't put up with such blatant behaviour on your part.
Your gaze moves from one guy to the other. Each of them seems to be holding their breath, waiting for your decision. You exhale noisily and remove your hand from the mouse you were still clutching. Scaramouche swallows, and Xiao watches your every action with a darkened look.
Is this arousal?
A blush rushes to your cheeks as you think about having to bring yourself to orgasm in front of your friends, but…. But it's a small "but." You feel a rush of heat in your lower abdomen and somewhere deep in your subconscious you realise that the thought turns you on.
All that's left is to take a couple of steps to jump into that abyss. You run your hands along the inside of your thighs. Your fingers slowly glide over the soft surface of your skin, reaching the edges of the long t-shirt that covered your panties.
"You really don't have to…" Skara's voice got lower, and you could clearly sense the anticipation creeping in. Whatever he was saying, one of his hands was no longer in the frame, and Xiao's camera switched off altogether.
The air in your room suddenly became so thick, tension hovered in the air, it seemed like you could touch it with your hand. You were still fighting with yourself, but the vulgar thoughts were assertively pushing all reasonable arguments out of your head.
You lift the edges of your T-shirt, exposing your spread legs to your friends. Your pussy remains covered only by the thin black lace. You hear Xiao sigh sharply, and then exhale slowly, a low croak escaping his lips and a slight smile touching your lips. You shift your gaze to Scaramouche, and unlike Xiao, he seems to have stopped breathing altogether, keeping his eyes on you. That gives you another wave of warmth, and a wave of goosebumps rushes through your body. You don't even realise why the perverse thought of masturbating yourself in front of your old friends makes you vibrate with anticipation. Slowly you pull your panties aside, revealing your vagina.
It must have been that crucial moment when the jokes were somewhere behind you. Scaramouche leans back in his chair noisily exhaling, you can notice his hand under the table and how he makes a few rubbing motions. Xiao's camera switches back on and you see his heavy languid gaze, one of his legs is thrown over the table, hiding what he started to do with his hand, but you knew.
It seems now, the three of you are starting a new game.
"I… I won't let you win again, you know that…", you manage to squeeze out as your hand slides down your vagina collecting moisture, a deep sigh leaving your body. You start rubbing your clit in circular motions before introducing two fingers inside you.
"Shit…" Xiao's whisper barely reaches your ears as his palm covers the lower half of your face.
"What a bunch of sluts…" you say, and a groan escapes your lips as the sounds of your wet satisfaction get louder and louder. Your breathing hitches and you cover your eyes, no longer caring what the two guys watching you think. You've already crossed the line of embarrassment and now you wanted only one thing, to bring yourself to orgasm.
Your free hand slides under your t-shirt to your chest, and with slender fingers you squeeze your hardened nipple, causing you to moan once more. Somewhere beyond your arousal, you hear Xiao and Scaramouche's breathing grow deeper, one of them wheezing languidly. The sounds of them jerking their cocks at the sight of you and your arousal completely overwhelms you.
You are brought out of your trance by the suspicious silence in the room. When you open your eyes you see that the windows where their names and faces should have been have gone black. You blink and frown. On one hand it's what you originally thought, they just haven't crossed the fact that you decided to fulfil the terms of the bet after all. But on the other hand…
What the hell? They left you with guilt and a really fucking huge, desperate desire to cum.
A few minutes had passed when you heard a furious knock on the door, which was immediately repeated almost startling you.
"…It's us." You heard Xiao's voice from behind the door.
You froze, the familiar voices making you even more nervous. You smoothed out the creases in your T-shirt that didn't exist and shuffled towards the door. When you open the door, you try to make your face look as casual as possible, but a blush of embarrassment and excitement floods your cheeks.
Xiao and Skara are leaning against the doorjamb on either side of the door, their eyes downcast, both of them avoiding your gaze.
"Is something wrong?" you ask deliberately cheerfully, but Xiao just walks slowly into your room past you without asking or permission.
"What do you think?" answers Skara to your question, his hand finding your waist as he pushes you aside to close the door behind you, then presses you against it afterwards.
"Tell us what that was…" says Xiao standing on the other side of Scaramouche and completely blocking your escape routes. You swallow the lump in your throat, Xiao's face so close to yours that you can feel the warm air he exhales. Your eyelashes flutter, and the warmth you thought had already receded in your stomach begins to spill anew.
You feel Scaramouche's warm hand on your neck, and he runs a finger up your skin, and then outlines your chin.
"I…I…" you try to mumble, while Xiao lifts the edge of your t-shirt and strokes your thigh, tracing the edge of your panties below your navel. You feel your thighs involuntarily clench, which brings a smirk to the guy's handsome face.
Scaramouche turns your face to his and without preamble greedily presses his lips to yours, and for a second you stare dazedly into his eyes, but Xiao's hand diving into your panties makes you roll your eyes and moan in muffled pleasure.
The persuasion of the kisses at the door intoxicates you, and now you're already naked and so docile, standing on the bed in this vulgar pose. Skara is holding your hips from behind and Xiao is positioned - next to your head. They already knew how they were going to fuck you, Skara, imagining it as he watched you pleasure yourself. And now you were on all fours with your arse up in front of him so he could get a good look at his cock plunging into your tight little vagina.
Your hands gripped the sheets tighter, your knuckles turning white as Scaramouche slowly began to push his cock inside you. The guy groaned, slapping his palm against your arse before sliding his hand down to rub your clit in a circular motion.
"You like it like that? It looked so fucking sexy when you did it for us online. I got so turned on…" He wheezed, feeling your pussy clench around him at those words.
"I'm actually here too, you know," Xiao says, and his thumb plays with your bottom lip before he opens your mouth. The tip of his cock penetrates as your muffled mooing from Skara entering you vibrates along his length, making him moan and tilt his head back. "Damn…you suck so good…."
"Don't make me tell you about this tight cunt…" moaned Skara, one hand gripping your thigh and the other burrowing into your hair as he fucked you so deep and hard.
"I'm going to fuck you next" exhaled Xiao heavily. His eyebrows furrowed and he bit his lower lip as he looked down to see your mouth encircling his cock.
The wet sounds of your vagina and the ringing slaps of Scaramouche's hips, accompanied by the slurping sounds of your mouth around Xiao's cock, create the sinful sounds of a lewd symphony that makes you start to lose yourself beyond pleasure.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" Skara moans, seconds away from staining your pussy white. You nod hastily making mooing noises, needing to feel his cum inside you. With one final thrust, Skara pressed your hips against his, spewing his seed into you, and you moaned contentedly covering your eyes and taking Xiao's cock deeper into your mouth, this prompting the guy to fill it with the sticky thick substance.
Maybe losing wasn't so bad after all?
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#xiao x reader#scara x xiao x reader#scara x reader#scaramouche#xiao
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
(Beauty and the beast steddie)
No.7 — Time
Mike is interested in Eddie's guitar. Eddie catches him sneaking glances at his Sweetheart, and decides to ask.
"You play?" he asks, gesturing towards the guitar.
"Do you?" Mike reflexively talks back, but realizes it's a pointless question and just shakes his head.
"I don't know how to play. I never learned. I wanted to, though."
The kid seems a bit sad and Eddie hates seeing him like that, so he decides there's no harm in offering.
"I could teach you if you want?"
And obviously it's a wrong move, because suddenly Mike tenses up and spits out,
"Yeah, as if I could pick strings with these hooves. It's not gonna work. Nothing ever works here. Thanks, Eddie, but no thanks."
"Whoa man- Mike, calm down. You can still learn, you know. There's no 'one' way to learn playing. I could show you the chords first and then you'll be able to practice it yourself later."
"Yeah, except there's not going to be a later."
Mike's still pissed, but he's gotten calmer. He now just seems a little annoyed at himself as he grumbles. It's a crisis averted and Eddie is relieved, as he secretly tries to come up with other ways to get Mike into playing guitar. It's just a hunch, but he thinks learning to play's gonna be good for Mike.
But then, (because he's got the worst timing ever) Dustin bursts in and shouts,
"Eddie! I need your help, quick!"
***
It's really remarkable, Eddie has to admit.
He stands before a wall in the boys' room, filled with jagged tally marks. Dustin looks proud of the abstract artwork, Mike's gotten tense again, and Lucas just seems tired of it all.
"Well, Dustin, it looks great. Didn't know you had a thing for art." Eddie has no idea what it means.
"What? No, this is not just some art, dude. This is my calendar. You know, I've been counting the days since we got cursed—"
"You mean Max has been counting," Lucas chips in and Dustin rolls his eyes.
"Yes, Lucas, Max has been marking since she has the most fitting claw for the task. But it's my idea, so I've been counting."
Ah, Max. Eddie knows who Max is now. Turns out the panther he met wasn't Steve. Turns out she wasn't even a panther, after all. He's embarrassed himself in front of the puma thinking that she was Steve, and he'd really like to not think about it now. So he asks,
"And about the calendar...?"
This stops Dustin from bantering with Lucas, and he turns to Eddie to give an explanation.
"Yeah, so, I've been counting the days with Max's help. And although I probably missed some dates on the days when we pissed Max off and she didn't want to help and I had to count in my head, I'm pretty sure I've got it close enough, so I wanted to crosscheck."
Eddie is now fully amused. Dustin put a lot of effort into this, he can tell. So he nods, indicating him to go on.
"So... is this May 17th, 1985?"
And wow, he's really close considering everything, so Eddie tries to answer but is cut off by Mike's voice.
"What does it even matter?"
"Huh?" comes Dustin's confused voice.
"What's the point of counting? It does nothing."
Now Dustin seems a bit tense too, and Eddie hopes this doesn't end bad. It seems unlikely.
"Well, Mike-, we need to know when we are in the time. We need to be prepared for when we get back—"
"Yeah, you keep saying 'when we get back' but we won't! That's the thing! We're not getting back, there's no 'later', we're stuck here, stuck in this body because of the stupid curse, while everything goes on without us!"
With that Mike stomps out, and Eddie can't do anything but stare into the now empty spot. Dustin doesn't look so well either, he mutters out a little "fuck," and walks out, too. Eddie hears Lucas sigh.
"So when is it?" Lucas asks a bit after, "Is it May-whatever-Dustin-said?"
"Uh, close enough. June 23rd, 1986. Should-, should we go after them?"
"No, they'll get over it. Usually they're not the ones fighting — it's either Max and Mike or Steve and Robin — but I guess Dustin has too much hope."
And the way he says it makes it feel like Lucas doesn't have much hope either. Eddie wonders what happened all those years before.
"Does he?"
Lucas glances up at his question.
"Do you think Dustin has too much hope, too?"
"Well, we've been like this for almost three decades and the curse is still not close to breaking, is it?"
The curse.
"Why do you think that you can't break the curse? What is it exactly?"
#stranger things#steddie#eddie munson#mike wheeler#dustin henderson#lucas sinclair#beauty and the beast au#intense kids#i think mike would be bit defensive (like the beginning of s4?) bc a lot happened#dustin would be trying to hold on to things he can control#lucas would have been tense too but he's trying to stay calm for his friends and little sister#eddie is just worried
20 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
abusersinmpls-blog
Abusers in Minneapolis
oct-choi
𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱...
dallas-l-s
Dallas
beingarealtor-blog
Being A Realtor - Yeah It's Worth It
zcrayas
ritual born