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#it's like yeah this man is incredibly dangerous
crackersandjuice · 2 years
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so i’ve decided to read under the red hood because i told myself i’d read comics this summer, and i can’t take jason’s helmet seriously. i just can’t. it’s so smooth. how am i supposed to be intimidated when all i can think of is how ridiculous it looks.
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reachexceedinggrasp · 2 years
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Ever since I first found out he was specifically down on this performance, I've been bummed about it because the film remains my overall favourite of his movies.
Although I've been bingeing interviews lately and it seems like he was just massively down on and dispirited about his entire acting career in 2006 when he said this, so maybe he'd look at it differently now. I know he was in a bad place at the time, but I'm sad how depressed he seemed. He offered to reimburse Henry Rollins for having seen Walking Tall and like... that movie is fine, honey. It's crap, but it's serviceable standard Hollywood action crap and he is one of the better things about it. He's funny and natural and helps a lot to carry the film by single-handedly creating one (1) believable, dynamic relationship in it, which it badly needed since the Rock is fun to watch but can't act and never has chemistry with anyone. When Rock movies work it's because he has co-stars who can bounce off him so well you can't tell he's immobile. Anyway.
Like I was blathering about in my post about his career, a lot of the reason I like Grand Theft Parsons or think that it works well is that this is one of the few times Knoxville was cast perfectly, in a part which instantly makes sense with him in it, and by someone who clearly understood him as a screen presence. Kaufman is a shady character, but we're meant to love him and see him as basically good. He's maybe an anti-hero at best in his life in general according to the film, but his intentions in this story are purely noble. It's a wild stunt anecdote on the surface that's actually a touching statement about brotherhood and loyalty; there's a lot of warmth underlying the comedy. As our hero, Kaufman is a messy guy using cheek and charm to con people for a questionable but good-hearted cause.
Which, you know, right in the wheelhouse of what Johnny is great at. The film is not working against his charisma or asking the audience to buy an image of him they're not seeing, it's using his magnetism to sell the character. Seeming miscellaneously dodgy but very likeable, bullshitting his way both into and out of trouble with affected confidence, drifting through bizarre adventures with a laissez-faire attitude, and reacting to hysterics with wry sarcasm are all totally natural on him. He excels at this tone, he's in his element. Rough edges with a heart of gold is an archetype that fits him like a glove. Playing a jack of all trades and a savvy underachiever who seems like he could have conquered the world if he would just get his shit together also gels perfectly with the gung-ho, half-cocked energy he always gives off.
He also has a quality of slight world-weariness as Kaufman which gives proceedings a pathos that really brings the movie together as the lowkey and ultimately very sentimental black comedy that it is. There's a subtle sweetness to his performance that allows you to believe in the spiritual purity of this insane mission. I fully think it wouldn't have come out nearly as well with Hugh Jackman, whom he replaced last minute. It's no masterpiece, it could certainly have stood to develop its characters a lot more and vastly tighten up its pacing, but I like it a lot. It imparts the warm nostalgia of memory even though it's set before I was born.
#trivia I enjoy: the jacket he's wearing is the real Phil Kaufman's real jacket worn during the actual events depicted in the film#which explains why it's too small bc Johnny is about a foot taller than the real guy#(who has a cameo at the end of the film)#I just like knowing that idk#johnny knoxville#grand theft parsons#I just typed a whole essay in these tags about why he's better as a lead and why he wasn't cast as one more often#and tumblr fucking ate it I'm so upset right now#punchline: literally the only times he was cast a romantic figure or a figure of desire was in films directed by women and this says it all#unless you count A Dirty Shame which I don't and also John Waters is not typical and should not be included in the sample#it is a tragedy and a crime he was never in a romcom as the lead guy#they put fucking Dane Cook in a romcom!#this & the Ringer are his only lead roles (Daltry Calhoun he is not the lead- June is- but that was also good casting and good use of him)#but yeah all those profiles about why is this incredibly handsome charismatic man out endangering his life and getting covered in sick?#he should be a movie star!#and then he became a movie star and they were like 'we can't cast him as the object of desire he's the gross dangerous wacky guy'#something something leading man masculinity under threat bc of 'humiliation' stigma something somethig this is why they don't know he's hot#the woman who directed Daltry Calhoun and the woman who directed Rosy understand that he is hot#men acknowledge that he is handsome but do not understand that he is hot#and this masculinity shit is the real stigma from jackass that held him back not not being taken seriously as an actor#anyway I don't know what the point of this post is- I lost it somewhere in my struggle to get the video clip working#it probably should have been about how he is in fact much better as a lead than as a sidekick#he actually has a kind of gravitas and a compelling quiet to his presence that works way better in lead roles#there's a stillness to him on screen that's typical of classic leading men#he feels slightly out of place in funny sidekick roles#and he's consigned to them mostly for bullshit reasons men should explore with their therapists
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age-of-moonknight · 2 years
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“The Uses of Restraint,” Moon Knight (Vol. 5/2006), #13.
Writer: Charlie Huston; Penciler and Inker: Tomm Coker; Colorist: Dean White; Letterer: Joe Caramagna
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hawke-ondary · 10 months
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hey whats up guys today i'm throwing myself into oncoming traffic
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toastsnaffler · 1 year
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man. getting a little sick of being everyones 15th option for everything. when is it my turn to be someone's first choice :^[
#or even second tbh I'll take it#i had a couple old friends from college msg me recently to tell me what theyve been up to#which is sweet and i care abt them n wanna hear it! but they dont ask after me or show any interest in how I'm doing#and it makes me feel like I'm just their journal or smth. a brick wall they happen to be standing near#don't get me wrong I love to be useful. but when ppl only ever interact w u bc they need smth from u. well.#rly not doing anything good for this complex im developing where my self worth is directly tied to my usefulness to other ppl lmfao#i dont want to be ppls fucking dog!! or not any more than i already am but whatever thats all im good for i guess!!#and i desperately want someone to be my fave person rn bc all my energy is going nowhere + im at my best when im at my most devoted#so ppl treating me like this rn is just making me incredibly vulnerable to being taken advantage of.#like yeah i am eager to please and ill follow anyone around and do whatever for a crumb of attention but maybe#if you're actually my friend u shouldnt be encouraging that behaviour. even if it makes u feel good like cmon thats not so cool man#or if you ARE going to encourage it then maybe u should acknowledge the power dynamic ur creating + try not to abuse it. idk 🤷‍♂️#urgh idk maybe im just saying words rn im very tired#I just feel like all the friendships etc I have atm are slipping into that dangerously unbalanced zone + becoming v one way#and I don't know what I'm doing wrong I'm trying the best I can and I guess its just not enough for anyone and that really really sucks#I'm doing better mentally rn but I dont currently have a support system + there are a lot of destabilising forces in my life#so im just. worried abt the direction things could take if I lose this foothold I've dragged myself onto yknow.#and I wouldnt have to be so worried abt that all of the time if I just had someone literally anyone I could rely on or even trust#but oh well. it is what it is. doing all I can to take care of myself so hopefully it won't come to that anyway.#sorry for rambling on so much if u read this far I'm giving u a kiss on the cheek don't worry abt me honey I've got this#anywayy goodnight#.vent#.diaries
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ghostaholics · 9 months
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𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄-𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓
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➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn!reader (aside from a single idiom whose origin uses masculine language/pronouns - every man for himself) ➸ SUMMARY: Against all odds, the Lieutenant accidentally falls asleep on your shoulder. Unfortunately, there are witnesses to the precarious situation (just your luck that it would be Gaz and Soap). ➸ WORD COUNT: 2k
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𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄: don't poke the bear.
Danger in your line of work typically consists of trying to walk away from a mission while still being left completely intact (i.e. the goal is to make it out alive, in one piece). You’ve survived a great number of ordeals: cornered into a shootout with a dwindling supply of ammo, tiptoed your way through a field of pressure-sensitive IEDs, dove towards probable death (with an awfully high probability of splattering onto hot, concrete hell like a bug on a windshield) because your helo was sent tail spinning courtesy of a perfectly-aimed RPG – and really, the list goes on.
It's been child’s play, in the grand scheme of things. An extensive catalogue of life-or-death scenarios accounts for your entire military career. And sure, this might be a bit of a stretch, but you'd wager that none of those instances thus far have been as high-stakes as the current predicament you’ve found yourself in.
Jesus-fucking-Christ. Why’d Ghost have to fall asleep on you?
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𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: avoid sitting next to him on the plane ride home. You've had to learn it the hard way.
And the kicker is that this whole thing could’ve been avoided; it didn’t have to be your problem. You could’ve sentenced any one of the other soldiers to your seat. Every man for himself, right? Get off scot-free, have a normal trip back to base with plenty of legroom so that you’re not cramped. Theoretically, it would've been beautiful – a passenger's paradise, the closest you could get to a first-class ticket.
But no.
Instead, play the Good Samaritan; extend your hand out with an act of benevolence. What’s the harm, right? So, you'd spared the poor guy, said you wouldn't mind switching places with him because he'd looked as white as a damn sheet at the idea of being crammed beside this behemoth of a lieutenant who's infamously every FNG's living nightmare.
Yeah, well hindsight is 20/20. Had you known what was going to happen, you would've had no reservations about throwing him under the bus. Sayonara, mate.
Law of the jungle, plain and simple.
To make matters worse, he is, in fact, exhibiting terrible flight etiquette. His head (which is dead weight and feels about as pleasant as a fucking bowling ball, mind you) has taken up every inch of real estate on your shoulder and is practically tucked into the curve of your neck; you’ll need to take a trip to the chiropractor’s after this – several, probably. The edge of his skull mask is digging into you. And, the cherry on top: get this – he’s man-spreading, so his left leg's trespassing into your own territory and brushing against your thigh. Utter lack of regard for personal space.
Incredible.
You’d still rather die than wake him up, though. You're not sure what'll happen if you do, but that's a risk you're not willing to take.
All things considered, an achy shoulder is a much better alternative than incurring the wrath of one angry Lieutenant. He's more subdued in this kind of context. To be completely honest, if you weren't already well-acquainted with him, you'd find it endearing.
From here, it's easy to see the simple rise and fall of his chest, steady and even. Slow inhale in, slow exhale out. He's at peace, a rhythmic lull that matches your own breathing. You can't quite put your finger on the exact moment he fell asleep. (He's got a habit of shutting his eyes and folding his arms over his chest when he isn't in the mood to converse with the other soldiers onboard. But God willing, he would never voluntarily loll his head onto your shoulder.) For what it's worth, he deserves the rest – never been one to do it this soundly as countless missions have taught you that he's usually a light sleeper. You remember him roughly prodding the toe of his boot at Soap's arm once when the Scot was conked out and his snores were a bit loud for Ghost's taste.
Rather odd then, that the Lieutenant even managed to allow himself to doze off like this. It’s too loud, too unsteady – the droning of the plane engine doesn't exactly make for good white noise and the turbulence outside is jostling the cabin around. Moreover, this puts him in a position of vulnerability, and he’s not the type to let his guard down so easily.
But somehow he did it with you beside him.
You try not to think about the implications of that.
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𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄.
Because, Soap's just woken up from his nap, the first among the entire company of soldiers in the cabin still sleeping, excluding yourself. His seat's parallel to yours, straight across the walkway within direct line of sight, so he’s got an unobstructed view of you and Ghost. Soap sends a questioning glance in your direction, eyebrow quirked. A look that says, The hell's going on?
The level of your voice is down; it's at a conservative decibel to avoid rousing the others. Yet you convey your distress with the same amount of passion as if you were stuck in the middle of a losing firefight. "MacTavish, help."
Soap works with bombs for a living. Surely, he's capable of defusing situations too.
Alright the man’s a demolitions expert, but that’s semantics.
He blinks like he's trying to make sense of the situation. Though, it's pretty obvious what the problem is here. You're not sure why he’s got to take a moment and contemplate it. You need a solution, now. And he's moving at a snail's pace.
For a second, you think he might sympathize with your plight.
But then his mouth morphs into a shit-eating grin and when he nudges Gaz awake, you know right then and there that you're absolutely fucked.
More witnesses.
Great.
Because that’s just what you need, isn’t it?
Gaz drags a hand down his face. He pans over to his right to figure out why he’s been jolted awake so suddenly, and sees Soap who’s inexplicably, nauseatingly jovial before his eyes land on you.
Much like Soap’s original reaction, Gaz can’t help but offer a quizzical expression. The confusion is evident. His brows are drawn together because he knows that the L.t. wouldn't fall asleep on your shoulder.
Soap's shifting, sliding his hand into his pocket before pulling out his phone. He messes with it – a few taps here, a few swipes there. And then before you're registering what's happening, he's aiming it straight at you, like one of those mums getting a snapshot of their kids in matching jumpers during the holidays.
"Say cheese."
An indignant gasp leaves your mouth. "If you so much as—
"Soap, no. Don't do that." Gaz says from beside him, plucking the phone out of his hands. He tsks him with a click of his tongue. Stern disapproval in spades. The meaning is clear: it’s a big thumbs down from the Brit. He’s not endorsing this type of behavior. “Gone mad now, have you?” he asks in admonishment.
You release a sigh of relief. Finally, some moral support. He's reliable. Your faith in him is unshakable. Always could count on Gaz to get you out of—
"Have to shoot with a wide angle, see? Or else it'll look wonky," he corrects, flipping the phone horizontally before handing it back to Soap.
"Aye, thanks mate.”
Gaz's smile isn't as excessive as Soap's but the smirk gracing his face tells you he's relishing in your misery all the same.
Fucking traitor.
"Knobheads—"
They’d risk their own hides to save you from certain death. You've seen it in Cairo, Valencia, and Seoul. Good men. Good hearts in the right place as well. However, they're also the type to embarrass you at every opportunity – public humiliation being somewhere on that roster as well. And for that, you want to strangle them.
"Rude,” Soap comments pointedly.
"Bite me, MacTavish."
"Just wake him up if it's bothering you," Gaz supplies unhelpfully.
"If you were in my shoes, would you do it?"
"'Course, not," he snorts. "I don’t have a death wish.”
“Well, I also prefer my head on my shoulders, thank you very much," you whisper furiously, nearly hissing at him.
And Soap is admiring his handiwork, when he coos, “Aw, the two o' you make quite the pair." He briefly twists the screen so that you can catch a glimpse of it, and even from this distance, you can confirm that he's captured the shot. Annoyingly well, to add insult to injury. Angle? Spot-on. Lighting? Brilliant. It's interesting, has character. Black and white photography. He's managed to make a stunning composition and your upper lip is curling up into a sneer of disgust at his artistic eye. How infuriating.
"I'll send this to the Cap. He’ll get a kick outta it."
"Sod off."
"He'll appreciate bein' included."
Gaz matches the energy with an equally gleeful smile, now delighted by the idea. “Hey, and the L.t. he looks—”
“—cute," Soap has the audacity to finish for him.
What.
There are many words that you’d use to describe Ghost.
Cutthroat, maybe. Imposing. Glacial. Taciturn. A stringent set of ideals that makes him the perfect soldier: disciplined, honed, fierce. Intimidating, if he's not fighting on your side – someone you'd much rather have on your team than against, unless you fancied death. He can be a stone-cold terror on occasion. The man’s been penned as a walking horror story by those in the military. Given his iron-hearted demeanor, you'd be hard-pressed to disagree with that statement; there's not much room to call his steel-encased resolve into question.
So, yeah. Above all else, he's certainly not cute.
Your eyes narrow at them. "Congratulations, the both of you have officially made the top of my shitlist."
Soap, indifferent to your crisis, asks, "Want a copy for your wallpaper?"
There's another heated remark waiting on the tip of your tongue, because there's no way in hell that you would and you're ready to tell him off, about to give him an earful.
But somebody else beats you to it.
“Wipe that picture, or I’ll wring your bloody necks.”
Ice surges through your veins. Goosebumps break out across your skin. Because that voice belongs to one person. Oh, Christ. Never in a million years would you want to be on the receiving end of it.
There's anxiety warping in your chest. You're scared stiff, paralyzed with fear in a way that implores you to remain stock-still. The coarse fabric of your trousers bunches underneath your palms as you try not to freak out. This isn't your fault. None of it is.
And here's the worst part: Ghost hasn't lifted his head from your shoulder yet.
But Soap's unfazed. He blinks a couple of times, seems like he's weighing his options – as if there's something else he could choose besides following his lieutenant's command – yeah, right. He wises up, settling for a simple answer in the end. "Alright, Ghost." His smile makes a reappearance, sweet and well-meaning. Troublemaker. "Any chance you'd like a copy before I do away with it?"
"What kind of fuckin' question is that, Johnny?" he grumbles. "Obviously."
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𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄:
"I take it you don't think I'm cute then. Have I got that right?"
"I'm sorry... mind repeating that again, sir?"
"You didn't have anything to say about Soap's comment."
"I have a feeling that whatever I answer will get my arse handed to me, L.t."
He's smiling in response – like sunshine trapped behind clouds. Despite it being obscured by the mask, you can see his eyes crinkling at the corners, which makes the black charcoal that's lining them begin to crease a bit. "Permission to speak freely, Sergeant. You have the floor."
Your mouth parts in surprise. Well, then. Maybe you stand corrected. And so, you appraise him momentarily, giving it some serious thought. There's more to Ghost than you give him credit for. He's terse and rough around the edges, but respected for a reason. Admirable. Someone you think highly of and has deserved your approval. The mask undeniably provides an air of intrigue. “I suppose you can be,” you start off, gradually warming up to him being more approachable. “When you’re not terrorizing the new recruits, that is.”
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avis-writeshq · 1 month
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hi! could i request track one with spencer reid where reader gets drunk and needy for spencer 😭 but he denies (cuz yk shes drunk) and just takes care of him please? thank you!
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off my face — spencer reid
summary: “i’m off my face in love with you.” in which reader gets drunk and spencer has to nurse her back to health. pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: rated 16+ for allusions to smut, reader gets drunk, reader wears lipstick and a dress, mentions of throwing up [not in detail], spencer being sickeningly perfect, lots of pet names, inspired by that one video of matthew. you know which one i’m talking about. a/n: i er… got carried away because i love this trope 😔 i am in fact obsessed wc: 1.23k
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It’s too loud. Granted, it’s a club; it’s supposed to be loud. Spencer cringes a little as the music somehow manages to get even louder and he sips at his coke. He has your purse in his lap and he’s also manning your drink like a guard dog; moving himself to the furthest seat in the booth that is away from the crowd. Your inevitable return is a lot sooner than he expected, and he watches with amusement as you slide into the booth and curl into his side, reaching for your drink. 
“Have fun?” Spencer asks with a soft laugh, one arm wrapping around your shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of you head. 
“Mm,” you hum in affirmation, eagerly sipping at the sugary concoction in front of you. “Would’ve been funner with you, baby.”
He laughs louder at that, rolling his eyes teasingly and squeezing at the flesh of your waist. “You know it wouldn’t have been.”
“Bet you’d be real sexy with all that sweat dripping off you,” you coo, your voice sickeningly sweet as your fingers move to toy with the buttons of his shirt. 
Your fingers are wet with the condensation from the chilled glass of your cocktail and they brush against the sensitive skin of his collarbone. A shudder runs down his spine at the contact, and his cheeks grow hot. His hand finds your wrist and he holds it firmly, but not enough to hurt. 
“Don’t,” he says, half jokingly half seriously as he moves his head to track your gaze. “How much have you had to drink, angel?”
You ignore the question, moving your fingers upward to brush against a blooming purple mark near his collar. A pout rests on your lips as you gesture to it, a frown forming on your face. “Who gave this to you?”
He bristles, moving the flap of his collar to cover the bruise. “You did. This morning.”
“Oh yeah!” The smile returns to your face awfully fast and a giggle bubbles up from your throat. “You love me.”
“I do,” he agrees, kissing your head again. 
Your expression is all too gleeful as you move your head just at the right time so that he lips would meet yours. He pulls away after a brief moment, about to say something else, when you effectively cut him off by pressing a wet kiss to his cheek. 
“Angel– sweetheart, you’re very drunk,” he says gently, prying your needy fingers away and holding them firmly in his hand. 
“Nuh uh,” you deny, leaning forward again and kissing his neck right where you left a mark earlier that morning. 
He jolts at the contact, pulling away as pink rises to his cheeks. “We’re not doing this while you’re drunk, honey.”
You blatantly ignore him, maneuvering yourself so that you’s practically half on his lap with your arms wrapped loosely around his neck. He doesn’t mind the attention, per se. He just feels incredibly guilty about enjoying it when you’re loopy from all the cocktails you have had. You’re pressing kisses against his cheeks while your hands play with the collar of his shirt, tugging at the purple tie you chose earlier that day and there are lipstick stains all over his skin. He’s well aware of it; bright red with a sticky residue and he will forever not understand how you can wear it all the time. 
His tie has come undone entirely and you pull at his shirt to kiss dangerously close to his collarbone. 
“Okay–” he’s flushing scarlet and he doesn’t dare meet the eyes of anyone in the team. “Okay, baby, that’s enough. Let’s get you home.”
“Ooh,” you giggle, wiggling your eyebrows with insinuation.
“You need sleep.” He says it sternly, although you don’t seem to grasp the concept. 
“What kind of sleep?” You ask, winking. 
He shakes his head, amused and exasperated, as he rebuttons his shirt and reties his tie. “The REM kind. Come on, angel. Say good night to your friends.”
You giggle tiredly, waving goodbye to your friends. Penelope looks absolutely hammered, wiggling her eyebrows at you with an expression full of insinuation. Emily is smirking in your direction, swirling her martini around before taking a sip. JJ looks equally elated, snickering softly as she holds onto Will’s arm. 
Spencer ushers you gently into his car, leaning over the console to open the glove box on your side and brandishing a packet of micellar water wipes. He takes out two for himself before passing the rest of them to you.
“For your makeup,” he explains, wiping the lipstick marks off his cheeks. “I’ll help you with your skincare when we get home, alright?”
You’re in love. It isn’t long before he’s helping you up the stairs of his apartment and sitting you gently on the couch. Your eyes are droopy and it seems like the sugar high from your cocktails is wearing off. Spencer runs his fingers through your hair gently while he holds a glass of cold water to your lips, urging you to drink. You only do it to appease him and once he’s satisfied with your water intake, he’s reaching for the zip of your dress.
“Someone’s needy,” you coo, giggling as he pulls it down to just below your ribcage. “Gonna rough me up?”
“No.” He answers it swiftly, and had you been sober your heart would have split in two. He continues, “I’m going to put you in something more comfortable and then you’re going to sleep.”
“Boring.”
“No, it’s not– it’s not boring,” he flounders, his cheeks growing hotter at your words. He can’t believe he’s arguing with a drunk person. “It’s not boring, baby, it’s safe. Alcohol is a neuro inhibitor. There’s a reason why you can’t drink and drive and it’s because the brain’s neural activity patterns are suppressed or blocked. That’s also the reason why you can’t ask a drunk person for consent; they don’t know or understand what’s going on around them.”
You’ve half fallen asleep at his explanation, the sleeves of your dress falling down your arms and a shiver runs down your spine. “So we’re not going to be partaking in passionate steamy love making?”
“No, we’re not,” he confirms, pulling your favourite pair of cotton pyjamas over your head. It’s a pale pink set with little bows prints all over it and a lacy collar. “Lift your hips for me, angel, I need to get the shorts on you.”
You comply, kicking the dress off into some forbidden corner of the room and Spencer takes this chance to slip the matching shorts onto your legs and up your thighs. The rest of the night is smooth sailing from there– he has successfully applied your skincare in such a way that you would be singing his praises. He has also managed to get you to drink another cup of water, and even though you’re going to wake up complaining about the fact you need to pee. He’d rather you complain about that instead of some raging headache. 
Spencer climbs under the covers next to you, pulling you into his chest and kissing your shoulder. A soft snore leaves your lips and he can’t help but chuckle. Passed out, as expected. 
“Good night, angel,” he murmurs into your ear, holding you tight. “See you in the morning.”
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reblogs are always appreciated !!
event page
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theodore-sallis · 1 year
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“Man-Thing!” Fear (Vol. 1/1970), #10.
Writer: Gerry Conway; Artists: Howard Chaykin and Gray Morrow; Letterer: Artie Simek
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subbmissivesuccubus · 9 months
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Be a good girl~
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Disclaimer: Contains Daddy kink, Dom Uzui, Sub reader, Rough sex, some humiliation, degradation, size kink, brat taming, spanking, a bit of breeding kink
--------------------------------------------
Uzui didn't know how to explain it, but he's been craving for a bratty submissive to fulfill his desires. Suma, Makio and Hinatsuru were incredible women and he loved them with all his heart, but they weren't interested in being submissive in the bedroom, nor were they fans of rough, kinky sex and Uzui would never ask them to do anything they weren't comfortable with.
But his desire to fold a cutie underneath him and pound her till she was a crying, sobbing, blubbering mess- her ass red from his spankings, makeup running down her face as she begged Uzui to not force more orgasms onto her overstimulated body- wasn't something he could hide. So the four of them came to an agreement. His wives gave him permission to find someone who might scratch that itch for him, who'd be the submissive he needed. And the very day they had that conversation, Uzui met you. A couple of ranks below the Hashira but climbing the ladder pretty quickly, you were a formidable warrior oozing with talent and strength. You were one of the better fights in the corporation and he knew it was only a matter of time before you became a pillar. You were tasked with assisting him on a new mission to track down a dangerous demon. What was supposed to last till sundown was completed within a few hours, you and Uzui making a fantastic team. You tracked down the demon, avoided its traps and tricks and along with Uzui, the two of you cut off it's head. With time to spare and not having any other missions to finish, the two of you took refuge in the Wisteria inn.
After a nice soak at the hot springs, the two of you met up in your room to share some food and drinks. Cups clinked together as you both drank some nice sake, Uzui having convinced you to relax around him for tonight and to just enjoy yourself. Both of you dressed in soft, comfortable yukata's, the vibe quickly turned friendly as the alcohol allowed you to loosed up a bit around him.
"So, are you in a relationship with anyone?" Uzui asked you. "If I was, I wouldn't be in a room with you alone." you retorted. Uzui raised an eyebrow, "I have three wives you know and i'm in this room with you alone." "Oh yeah!" you said, having genuinely forgotten, feeling guilty for some reason, "I shall leave then. This might be seen as inappropriate-"
"Sit back down." Uzui ordered the second he saw you make a move to leave, smiling when you obeyed him, "My wives wouldn't mind. In fact, they've given me permission to pursue a fourth partner if I wanted to. So don't overthink it."
"Oh..." you said, not knowing what to make of that, "If you say so." Your heart skipped a beat over that news. You weren't blind to how ridiculously attractive Uzui was, the man a walking embodiment of sexy. He looked so good in his uniform but here, with his hair let down and wearing a loose Yukata, you had to avert your eyes more than once from his chest.
"So, assuming you had a partner, why did things end?"
"Huh? oh- uh- it's kind of embarrassing..."
"Hmm? Do tell~" Uzui said with a smirk, leaning back on an arm as he nestled his cup of sake in his hand, "I enjoy some gossip."
"Well, he..uh...he was kind of lousy in bed."
"Oh?"
"Yeah- like really bad. I don't think he made me satisfied even once."
"Oh, you poor thing." Uzui cooed as he took a sip, "That sounds frustrating."
"It was." You said with a nod, "Honestly, all the guys I've dated have been the same. And judging from the stories my other friends have told me, they face the same problem. Men just don't know how to please women."
"Well, I don't know what type of guys you've slept with," Uzui said with a smirk, "But I'm happy to say I do not lack in that department. You can't keep three wives without doing a satisfactory job."
"Hah! Yeah right." you said with a laugh, dismissing his brag, "I bet they're faking. Most men fail to satisfy one woman, let alone three."
"Perhaps. But I'm not most men." Uzui said, a twinge of annoyance in his voice over your bratty attitude, "with my stamina, it takes all three of them to drain my balls completely."
You hiccuped at his vulgar words, quickly gathering yourself before he could notice. Perhaps it was the alcohol that was making your bratty side come out, or maybe it was because of how comfortable you were around Uzui now, but either way, you couldn't control your tongue.
"Just because you have big muscles doesn't mean you have a big cock. And even if you do, I bet you don't know how to use it!"
"Oh yeah? And how are you so sure?" Uzui asked, "Pretty little thing like you- you wouldn't be able to last five minutes if I speared you on my dick."
"I bet I could handle you!" You said, hands on your hips, leveling Uzui with a glare.
"Really?" Uzui asked, a twinkle in his eye as he looked you up and down, heart skipping at the idea that he might have found someone to play with already, "You sound confident."
"I am." you said, puffing your chest out, an action Uzui enjoyed ogling at, "I bet I can rock your world and not even break a sweat! and I'd bet you'd not make me cum even once." Uzui laughed, a giant smile on his face before he patted his lap, legs crossed and inviting, "Come and prove it then."
"Wait- really?" you asked, not expecting that response. You were just teasing, hoping to annoy him a bit but- "Sure. Unless, you didn't mean it. Chickening out already?" the Hashira asked.
With a huff, your pride refusing to take a hit, you crawled over to Uzui and sat on his lap, your Yukata bunching a bit around your thighs as you straddled him.
"Feel that?" he asked, hands having a tight grip on your hips as he made you grind down against him. You bit down a squeal as you felt his hardness press against your core, gulping as you could tell how big he was even through the layer of clothing. You tried to keep level-headed, but Uzui could see right through your poor attempts.
"And you know what?" he asked, hands sliding from your hips to your ass, the man taking greedy handfuls of your pump skin as he groped you, making you gasp, "I'm only half hard~"
"L-Liar!" You said, unable to bite your tongue from responding. He already felt so big against you- and he was only halfway there?! Uzui laughed, before saying:
"Yeah? Why don't you check?" the man asked, quickly untying the sash around his Yukata before leaning back a bit on his arms, a look in his eyes that clearly meant he was challenging you. You gulped as the fabric started to move aside, giving you a generous peek of his sculpted torso. A big, wide body with washboard abs and big pecs, you had to stop yourself from drooling.
"What's wrong?" he asked, "Just going to keep looking? I thought you said you could handle me."
"I-I can!" You snapped, your pride not allowing you to back down, "You're so impatient."
Uzui's chuckle made the hairs on the back of your head prick up, a certain darkness to it. "You know, I'm keeping track of all the bratty comments you make. I can't wait till it bites you in the ass~"
"Sh-shut up!"
"That's another one~"
With a huff, you leaned forward against Uzui's leaning body, gulping as you gripped the folds of his yukata and pulled them apart, completely exposing his torso to you. Never being one to be so forward but also refusing to back down, you pressed you face against his neck and kissed it, your soft lips touching his fair skin. Uzui's groan of content could be felt on your lips as you slowly started kissing his body, a hand coming up to run up his abs. You slowly got more and more confident, your tongue peaking out to lick at his collarbone, your hips grinding down harder against his member. But your pride took a hit when Uzui suddenly started chuckling, making you frown and look up and him.
"Something funny?" you asked, annoyed.
"Yes. You. Kissing and touching me like a blushing virgin. Is this what you meant when you said you'd rock my world? Because if so, I'm not impressed."
You scoffed, cheeks heating up in embarrassment, "You- well excuse me for not being a whore like you-"
But before you could finish your sentence, one of Uzui's hand shot up, grabbed the back of your hair and pulled harshly, making you gasp as your neck was suddenly snapped back. "Watch that filthy mouth of yours." he said, cock twitching as he heard your gasps, "I think it's time I teach you who's in charge here."
"Y-you started it!" you gasped out, head paining from how he was pulling your hair, words hard to speak from how your neck was being stretched. Uzui simply clicked his tongue, "Still have an attitude. I'm afraid I don't have the patience to wait for you to move things along." His free hand expertly tugged at the sash of your yukata and ripped it off of you, making you gasp as your body was exposed to him, no time to feel shy as he tugged your head down and met you for a kiss. It was a greedy and feral lip lock, Uzui immediately massaging your tongue with his own, dominating the kiss effortlessly.
Maybe you did bite off more than you could chew.
But damn, if you weren't excited.
"I've been wanting to bend your bratty ass over my knee and teach you a good lesson every since you opened your mouth." Uzui growled as he bit your lower lip, making you yelp, "Telling me you'll rock my world when you blush like a virgin when you grind on my dick- how adorable."
"That's not- I-" you tried to protest, not knowing what you were protesting in the first place.
"Shut up." Uzui said, kissing you again before picking you up with one hand, your legs wrapped around his waist with his hand under your butt. "We're going to the bedroom." he said, easily carrying you towards said room, "It's time I teach you some manners. And remember, five minutes are on the clock."
Uzui got you to cum in three minutes.
Once he threw you on the bed, he ripped your Yukata off, followed by your undergarments, leaving you completely naked. He shrugged off the fabric he had on as well, his cock springing out of its confines and you swear you forgot how to breathe for a second.
How on earth did you have the audacity to joke that his dick wasn't big? It was a monster of a member, long and thick with heavy balls dangling between his legs. You gulped as he crawled onto the bed, looking down at you like a predator stalking its prey. He grabbed your legs and spread them apart, exposing your sex to him. Gripping you on the back of your thighs, he pushed you enough to make your body bend, your cunt exposed to him even more obscenely.
"U-Uzui-san!" you squealed, face red hot at the way he was staring at your cunt.
"Daddy."
"Wha-"
"You're going to call me Daddy." he explained, licking his lips as he leaned down, his mouth inching towards your sex, "and Daddy needs to prepare your tiny pussy to take his fat cock."
And that's how you experienced the fastest orgasm of your life. Within three minutes, Uzui was drinking down your cum, the man's mouth and tongue so expertly pleasuring you, it was a clear loosing battle. He laughed into your cunt as you came, the vibration making your body tremble even more as he ate you out, paying extra attention to your clit as he took the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucked so hard, it almost made you cum again.
Once you were down from your high, once he looked down on you as he wiped your juices off his lips- you knew you were fucked.
"So," he said, picking up the sash of your yukata from where he discarded it before wrapping it a few times around his hand and making a show of pulling it tightly to make a 'crack' sound, "Remember how I mentioned I want to take you over my knee?"
~~~~~
"Say it."
"I- I don't w-want to-"
"Say it or I'll spank you all night."
With a sob, knowing full well he meant it, you had no choice but to relent, swallowing down your pride as you said:
"D-Daddy please stop spanking my n-naughty pussy!"
Head hanging upside down from how you were placed over Uzui's knee, the blood rushing to your ears almost made you miss the way Uzui groaned.
"Is your poor pussy in pain?" he cooed, petting said pussy. It was hot to the touch, your pussy lips dyed a bright red, matching your ass. A man of his word, he spanked you as punishment for your bratty behavior and comments, holding you still as he rained spanks down on your poor butt, your hands tied behind your back, unable to do anything about it. Once he was satisfied with marking up your ass, he spread your legs a bit and started spanking your pussy, laughing at the way you twitched and shook, your cries of pain only making his cock get harder.
He slapped your pussy again, making you squeal. "Answer me."
"Yes! Yes- m-my pussy hurts so much Daddy!"
"Aww, poor baby~" he said, raining tiny pats on your cunt repeatedly, not as hard but still enough to make your body tremble, "have you learned your lesson?"
"Yes Daddy!" you said with zero hesitation.
"Are you going to act like a brat again?"
"I won't, I p-promise! I'll be good-"
"That's my girl," Uzui said, cupping your pussy gently, the warmth of his hand against your sore, red cunt making you gasp, "But we're not done yet. Make sure you keep your promise, alright?"
~~~~~
"U-U-Uzui-s-san! S-slow down p-please!" you squealed, voice jumping as Uzui jack-hammered into you, his hips practically a blur as he pounded your pussy. Fucking you from behind, he ignored your cries as he brought a leg up to better fuck you, laughing at your yelp and the way your pussy clamped around him.
"That's not my name," he growled, the grip he had on your hips bruising as he bashed his cock into your poor cunt, "What's. My. Name?" He spanked your ass three times to put emphasis on his words, your body jumping with each hit. Tears filled your eyes from the burn, no doubt a bright, red hand-print left behind on your already red skin. The burn of Uzui's hips slapping against you took your breath away, your poor spanked ass and pussy not getting a break.
"D-Daddy!" you cried out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Uzui showed no signs of slowing down- if anything you felt his cock grow bigger inside you- "Daddy please- please- please slow down? P-Please!"
"Shhh, you can take it, right?" Uzui said, snickering as a hand grabbed the back of her head and pushed, smothering your face against the mattress, "Didn't you say you could handle me? Where'd your fight go?"
Your sobs were muffled by the cloth, his grip on your head unrelenting. You gripped the bed-sheets so hard veins were popping out on your hands, hands no longer tied up, your tears soaking into the mattress. The lack of air only made your body get even more sensitive, your pussy clamping down harder against Uzui's fat cock.
"You were such a fucking brat-" Uzui growled, feeling the familiar knot in his abdomen start to tighten, "Talking such big- fuck that's good- such big game! Saying you could take me- but look at you now. Pathetic~"
He gripped your hair and pulled, ignoring your cry of pain as your neck snapped back, your body following the movement until you were upright on your knees, Uzui's firm body pressed against your back. With a laugh, he let go of your hair only to then catch you in a choke-hold. His huge biceps pressed against your neck, restricting your airways, the man snickering at your feeble attempt to grab him. You were held up by his arm around your throat and his cock slamming against you, completely at his mercy, as you were the entire night.
"I like them pathetic~" Uzui growled into your ear before giving your lobe a bite, pulling on it with his teeth, making you squeal. Your face was turning a bright red, your mouth wide open and eyes rolling to the back of your head. The force of his thick member splitting apart your poor pussy combined with the warmth of his body behind you and the tight feeling of his arm against your neck- you never felt like this before:
Completely and utterly fucked.
You had already cum three times, the man fingering you to your orgasm after he spanked you and fucking you to climax out when he stuffed you with his cock.
Being wrong never felt so good.
His hips kept working into you, the slap of his balls against your cunt so obscene, you could still hear it despite the blood flowing around your head. One hand gripping his biceps while the other went back to grab at his thrusting hip, you held on for dear life, thoughts leaving your head as you sunk into a mental state where all you could think about was Uzui.
"Ooh~ That's what I like to see~" Uzui groaned, the expression on your face making his sadistic side purr in happiness. Seeing you completely fucked out and at his mercy- this is what he needed- this is what he craved.
"Fucked the brat right out of you, didn't I?" the man said, reveling in his accomplishment, "What was it you said to me? I can't satisfy one woman, let alone three? Hmm? Hmm?"
With a slap to your thigh, you yelped as Uzui's free hand went between your legs, his rough finger starting to twirl your clit around. "Daddy- no- too sensitive!" you pleaded, body twitching underneath his hold as you felt spikes of pleasurable pain run through you as he toyed with your sensitive bud, "Please- i'm sorry! I'm- ah- sorry!"
"Sorry for what?" Uzui growled, pinching your clit so hard it made you scream, "Be specific you naughty little brat!"
"I'm sorry f-for making fun of you!" you confessed, "Sorry for saying you're not g-good in bed- you're amazing- fuck- ah- ah!"
"All it takes is some cock to get to behave, hmm?" Uzui snarled.
"Daddy- i'm gonna cum- can I cum? Please?" you begged, knowing well from last time that he expected you to ask for permission. "Go ahead." Uzui said, hand working your clit even faster, "Greedy slut. Cumming four times while Daddy hasn't even cum once. You better make it up to me."
He chocked you even harder, veins popping in his muscles as he took your breath away, literally. The lack of air made your body go into overdrive, face red as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Within seconds, you squirted all over his cock, the first time you ever experienced that, liquid gushing out of your pussy, dripping down both your bodies before seeping into the mattress. Uzui held your trembling body down, letting out a cheeky whistle as his hips didn't relent, fucking your orgasm for every single drop.
"Fuck! That was so fucking hot!" Uzui said with a laugh, "You're going to do that again." You could do nothing as he pushed you back onto the bed, your limbs having no strength to hold you up as you fell flat on your stomach, just lying down on the bed. But that seemed to be what Uzui wanted, the man following you as he lied down on top of you and started fucking you pro bone. You sobbed as his cock somehow went even deeper, slamming against your womb mercilessly. The weight on his body on you coupled with the ravenous feeling of his member fucking you within an inch of your life almost made you black out.
"Daddyyy!" you cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks as your pussy was pounded, "C-Can't cum anymore- please-" You probably said 'please' more time tonight that you had in your entire life. "You think you're done?" Uzui growled, hips not loosing their rhythm as he chased his pleasure, your pussy so wet and hot, he had to focus real hard to not climax immediately. It was only thanks to his training as a demon slayer that he could last this long- his breathing techniques allowing him to delay his orgasm as much as possible. If he was a normal man, no doubt he would have came ages ago. But it was thanks to his trained body that he could keep going which was good, because he wasn't done punishing you.
"No. You're done when I say so, understand?" You sobbed as a response. "You're done when I empty my balls inside this perfect pussy of yours and breed you- got it?" "Y-Yes Daddy." "That's a good girl. Don't pass out on me now, alright? I'll keep fucking you anyway."
~~~~~
You woke up the next morning, every inch of your body in pain and sore, especially your pussy which took load after load of Uzui's cum. You lost count how many times you came, the rest of the night being a blur and you remembered nothing but him breeding you. At some point he caught you in a mating press and fucked you so hard you swore you temporarily blacked out, waking up only to feel him fill your womb up again.
You sat up on the bed, looking to the side and scoffed at your reflection in the nearby mirror. You looked like a mess. Exhaustion was clear on your face, your eyes sunken from the tears you cried, hair a mess and your naked body littered with bite marks and hickies. You looked at your partner, the man looking the complete opposite. Silky white hair draped over his pillow, his skin clear and glowing with a soft smile on his handsome face.
You had an urge to smack his pretty face, annoyed at how much he wrecked your body despite the fact that you enjoyed every second of it. He truly brought out something in you and it was scary- but damn it was fun.
Deciding to listen to your intrusive thoughts, you raised your hand up to smack him, when he suddenly opened his eyes, greeted to the image of you with your hand raised. Thinking quickly on your feet, you gulped and blinked your eyes as you slowly brought your hand down to cup his cheek lovingly, rubbing it sweetly like that was your plan all along.
"...Because I wrecked your body last night, I'll let this slide." Uzui said, grasping your hand with his own before placing a gentle kiss on it, "But I won't be so nice next time."
"So there's gonna be a next time?" you asked with a smile, plopping down against his broad chest.
"Of course." Uzui said, running a gentle hand through your hair, "You belong to Daddy now."
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finally realised am able to put into words what i feel about some members of team lh. blatant hypocrites. emulate their fave but if your activism stops because you don't like a person then sorry its so fucking incredibly performative. even worse when there are certain lines crossed that should not be fucking crossed.
'mental health matters' till its nico rosberg who made his choice to step away from the sport for it but then he's a weak coward who couldn't handle the smoke.
'leaving a toxic workplace is valid' till its valterri bottas who talked about how much pressure he was under in mercedes and how he had to change himself to fit the brand and wasn't happy and was experiencing all kinds of stresses. but oh yeah he should have come back to merc and continue being a "team player".
"child abuse is wrong" till its max verstappen and its oh so fucking funny that he got left at a gas station as a child and experienced god knows what as a child.
"an inappropriate boss-employee relationship is dangerous" till its george russell who does not have the healthiest boundaries with his boss but you know what that's his fault and he's a scheming mastermind.
but not toto who was a middle aged man when he met 15 year old george who showed up to this meeting with no adult support and who had full control of george's career for years. the jokes are funny till you see people who genuinely believe george is sleeping with his boss and then still think its oh so hilarious? tell me how is the principle of the matter different from the fucking dudebros shitting on the christian horner investigation.
"don't harass/protect employees!" till its harassing the social media admins for posting their other driver or the engineers for a strategy mishap or the mechanics for a slow pitstop.
if your morals are restricted to a para social relationship with a man who has worked so hard to be a real advocate in the sport then don't act like you are more righteous or better than any of the other losers defending these things. crossing these lines make you just as bad.
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evilminji · 7 months
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You know... >.>
My Dad always used to tell me, if I get a Genuine Genie(tm)? Get a lawyer first. Before I make my Wishes(tm), so they can help me word them correctly.
Obviously, a human lawyer would not be foolproof... BUT! What about a Ghost Lawyer?
Like? Obviously Desiree would be PISSED. How DARE you twist HER wish twisting! Her THING is "what you believe is your heart's desire always comes at a terrible cost" which is what she DIED to learn.
So obviously she would NEVER, willingly, bend her Obsession for ANYONE. And you'd have to make a DAMN good case to that Lawyer for why he ISNT breaking the law by helping you. Probably some "you can: save the life of an unconscious person against their will/shove an unobservant person OFF the train tracks, even if they get hurt, to save their life" clause.
Like? Using a ghosts Obsession against them? Bad. Illegal.
Using it against their will, to save OTHER ghosts, who are in immediate danger? Not illegal, but they will be PISSED. Still not great though, you will want to apologize and fast.
So like??? Reality Bending Power. Patrick Star Method of "what if we MOVED the city... somewhere else?" Considered at 1am. Team of Ghost Laywers, acquired.
Amity and all Limnals are REMOVED from the DP-verse.
Wish worded juuuuust so. Any ghost that forms there? Yoink! Instantly removed to the Zone. Natural Portals? Cut off. Let the whole Reality fade out at an accelerated rate, as no NEW energy is fed into the system. Entropy will do, what entropy does. Exactly as they wished it.
They hated Death so much, they speed up the heat death of their ENTIRE universe by Eons. Congratulations, you guys "Won". Enjoy the wildly more fragile flora, fauna, and general ecosystems. Now that none of you have that ambient Ectoplasm strengthening your bodies. Yeah, the things you used to shrug off? Those are gonna maim or kill you now.
Doesn't MATTER if you "learn your lesson" though! Cause this is WAY past that point! This is "cutting off the tumor before it kills us" territory, and buddy? Amity ISNT the tumor. Go forth a grow, just like you wanted.
They won't be here to fix your messes anymore.
Because Danny got himself a dictionary thick "I Wish..." contract. Which was worded, as it needs to be, in one loooooooong run on sentence. Shouted "I Wish what's written on THIS, as it is currently, and without any form of editing or negotiation!" As fast as he could. Yote the document in Desiree's direction. And Flew like an INCANDESCENTLY pissed off Genie was trying to set his everything of fire.
Which she was.
Thankfully, Paulina came in clutch with her History of all things Jewelry, world fashions, and Make-Up knowledge. That, coupled with the Power Of Rich Friends(tm)? (Sam. Her mother was THRILLED to take her Jewelry and clothing shopping for something other then blacks and dark purple. They went on a jet setting whurl-wind tour. Sam actually kinda liked a some of what she found.)
They have Apology Bribes.
They shamelessly HIDE behind the mountain of Apology Bribes, while they explain themselves. Is Desiree HAPPY? No. But those bracelets are magnificent and she DOES deserve nice things. Those silks will really bring out her eyes. And she... DOES... admit...
Maybe...
That things are not... SAFE. Any longer. Danny TRIES. Everyone else can see it. And he's made incredible strides! Even convinced his lunatic parents. Though they're still not quite POPULAR. (WAY too pushy and invasive with their questions, for most people.) But the fanatics in white?
They nearly killed Box Lunch. If her father hadn't BEEN there...
And the poor man will have that scar on his back for the rest of his afterlife. Desiree can see why Danny is pushing. Does she LIKE it? No. But...
She supposes she will content herself with the suffering of the Fanatics in White and all who support them. THEIR wishes, twisted. Their ugly heart's desires.
Fine.
"SO YOU WISH IT. SO IT SHALL BE!"
And? The ghost town of what WOULD of one day grown into Amity, had the witch's there not been found by those they had fled from, which sits in long rotted ruins, amongst the trees in nowhere Illinois? Poof! Two "Towns" are switched.
The roads out of town coming to a clean line stop, meeting not even goat paths. Just trees. Old growth.
But it's not ALL of Town, is it? Faces missing. New, confused, faces from every corner of the map, taking their place. No Limnal left behind. No supporter of the GIWs genocide, brought along. Family's kept together where they could be. But by the few, scared and upset, green flashing eyes of children in the crowd?
It seemed for some, it was easier to fear and hate, then love their children.
Already they were being gathered up by school teachers and PTA parents. As everyone tried to figure out what had happened. Concerned, quite muttering a dull roar as everyone tries to coordinate.
Red Huntress joins Danny and Dani in the Sky. She doesn't get a word in. Wanted to know what the HELL was going on. She was with her dad in Chicago! Dani was in Taiwan! Literally! As in, sitting in a SUBWAY station one second, the next? Outside!
But they don't get to demand those answers. Because there is a sonic boom on the horizon. And then? Floating... weird... not ghosts?
Uuuuuuhhhh?
Hi?
That much blue... sure is a Statement. Like the cape and... bloooomers? Shorts. Bikini bottoms? It.. it's a Cool Look, dude! No, really. They are being VERY supportive here! If YOU like it? That's the only thing that matters!
Red Huntress smacks the Danny/i's Repeated upside their heads and demans to know what the Not-Ghosts are doing in their airspace.
Oh YEAH. Good point! What she said! And can it WAIT? They're kinda going through A Thing right now...
Kon? Wants it on record he loves these guys. They're hilarious. The LOOK on Clark's FACE?? He wishes he could frame it. Preserve it for future generations. Thing is? There was NOT a town here a second ago.
Well, bout 30 minutes or so, but you get the idea. One moment? Tree noises. Bam! Thousands of people! Obviously the checked it out. Only to be met with two... three maybe? Heros who have NO IDEA who they are.
Clear Reality warping shenanigans. Might be time travel or multiverse. Question is... are they STAYING? And if SO? What now...
@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter
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joelsgreys · 1 year
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not a thing
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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part ii
summary: You and Joel had a private moment while Ellie was asleep. Or so you’d thought she was asleep.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. implied smut, but no actual smut. grumpy Joel, Ellie is a little shit.
Word Count: 1.5k
a/n: nervous to write for TLOU but still giving it a shot! poor Ellie for being subjected to what i am about to subject her to lol. Edit: holy shit, i did not expect this to get much attention. thank you all sm for reading, liking and reblogging!
It had been an incredibly stupid thing to do.
So, so, so fucking stupid.
You knew that.
And Joel knew that.
You two were supposed to have been standing watch.
Not to mention, there had been a teenaged girl sleeping close by, just mere fucking yards away from the two of you had been—
Jesus Christ.
Dammit, you and Joel fucking knew better than to be this goddamn stupid.
Careless.
But neither of you could help yourselves.
It had been several weeks—actually, it had been several months since you two had been able to steal a private moment for yourselves. That moment would have been missed had you not somehow woken up in the middle of the night, only to find Joel wide awake, his rifle in hand as he stood watch while you and Ellie had slept. You’d offered to take his place for a few hours so he could get some rest too, but instead, a few minutes and many, many desperate, feverish kisses later, the two of you found yourselves on the other side of Bill’s old white and blue Chevrolet pickup truck, Joel’s jeans unzipped and your own jeans pulled down around your knees along with your underwear. He’d had you bent over, but still standing at a point where you could peek over the bed of the truck so that you could somehow keep a watchful eye out in between the moments of mind-numbing pleasure—both for any signs of potential danger and also for Ellie, who was passed out, curled up into a little ball in her sleeping bag and completely unaware of what her two reluctant protectors were doing behind the vehicle right next to her.
Your bottom lip was busted, bruised from biting down on it so hard.
The deal had been no noise, not even a single whimper, although you couldn’t remember how well either of you had stuck to that rule in the heat of the moment. It had been a quick fuck, just enough to give you and Joel some much needed relief from all of those pent up stresses and frustrations you two were carrying on your shoulders since Ellie had entered your lives just the week before. And just like back in the Boston QZ, Joel said nothing to you once it was over and done with.
It never hurt your feelings. It was just how things were.
It was some sort of twisted, fucked up unspoken pact the two of you had. 
Joel Miller fucked you, and then he just pretended like nothing ever happened, not until the next time he found himself buried inside of you.
It’s not like you expected Joel to return your feelings.
Hell, you weren’t even sure the man knew how to feel anything but anger, bitterness, and violence. 
Afterwards, Joel took you up on your offer to keep watch and slept for a couple of hours until sunrise came and had you both moving, packing up the truck and getting ready to continue the long drive ahead to Wyoming.
“She’s been oddly quiet,” Joel mumbled to you as he packed up the remnants of the small campsite into the bed of the pickup truck. “Go check on her.”
Obediently, you nodded and dropped the sleeping bag in your hands before turning away and walking over to where Ellie was sitting cross legged on the ground, her fingers mindlessly fiddling with a small, broken tree branch on the ground. “Hey,” you offered her a small smile. “It’s almost time to get going. You doing alright over here?”
She looked up at you and gave you a small nod. “Yeah. Just cold as fuck since we can’t have a fucking fire going,” she said, tossing a tiny glare over in Joel’s direction. “But other than that? I’m just fucking peachy.”
You chuckled and shrugged out of your worn out, brown windbreaker jacket. You draped it over Ellie’s shoulders before taking a seat beside her on the ground. She may have been a thorn in Joel’s side—then again, who wasn’t a thorn in Joel Miller’s side—but you’d warmed up to her fairly quickly. A lot quicker than your partner, anyway. He was still a work in progress.
“Did you sleep okay?”
Ellie nodded, clutching your jacket close. “Kinda,” she shrugged her small shoulders. “The ground was really hard and uncomfortable. I woke up a couple of times throughout the night and had trouble falling back asleep.”
Your smile faded ever so slightly. “Oh? You did?”
Noticing the sudden change in your demeanor, a small smirk crossed the girl’s face. “I knew you and McGrumps over there were a thing.”
You nearly choked on your own saliva as you nervously sputtered out, “W-What the hell are you talking about?”
Ellie raised an eyebrow at you, shooting you a knowing look as her smirk widened.
Oh for fuck’s sake. Ellie had caught you and Joel while you two were—fucking?
Mortified did not even come close to cutting it.
“Oh god,” You muttered, your face on fire. 
“I really hope you two are being smart and using protection,” she added teasingly. “What’s that saying? Wrap it before you tap it?”
“Ellie!” You hissed, glancing over your shoulder. Joel went about his business and it was times like these where you were actually thankful that his hearing wasn’t what it used to be. You turned back to her and quickly started trying to explain yourself. “Ellie, I don’t know what you think you saw but—”
“Oh, it was too dark to see anything. I heard you guys.” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “Back behind the truck.” She paused, thoroughly enjoying every single moment of complete and utter discomfort she was causing you. “You know, if that’s gonna keep happening, I’m really gonna need you guys to find me a Walkman with some headphones. Noise cancelling headphones, please and thank you.”
You dropped your head into your hands and anxiously rubbed your face with your palms. “Fuck. I’m really sorry, Ellie,” Was all that you could say.
What else could you say?
Sorry you had to hear me getting fucked by my partner while you were laying just feet away in your sleeping bag?
“Sorry for what? For not being able to keep it in your pants?” Ellie giggled, slapping your knee with her hand in an attempt to get you to lighten up. “I get it. Nature. Hormones. Biology and shit.”
You lifted your face from your hands. “Joel can’t know,” You warned her. “Or he won’t be able to look you or me in the eye ever again.”
Ellie groaned in exaggeration, throwing her head back. “Aw, come on! I really wanted to see him squirm.”
“Me squirming should be fucking enough you little shit,” You laughed, shoving her playfully with your elbow. Once both of your giggles had subsided, in a more serious tone, you told her, “And for the record, we are not a thing.”
Ellie stared at you in disbelief. “Get out of here, you lying sack of shit! You totally are!”
“I know it’s hard to understand. But just because two people—” You trailed off, trying to choose your words carefully. It was more often than not that you had to remind yourself that despite what Ellie had been through and all she had seen, she was still fourteen. A fucking child.
“Bump uglies?” she suggested, wiggling her eyebrows.
You sighed. “Jesus Christ, please don’t ever fucking say that out loud again.” You paused briefly, running a hand through your hair. “But yes. Just because two people do what he and I were doing, that doesn’t mean anything. For a lot of people, it can be quite meaningless actually. It does not mean they are a thing. Me and Joel? Not a thing. Understood?”
Ellie blinked. “That’s probably the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Even before last night, I knew you two were a thing. Whether either of you admit it or not. I can tell.”
You knew better than to play into what she was saying, but the sheer curiosity got the better of you.
What had Ellie noticed about you and Joel?
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged, bringing her knees up to her chest. “I dunno. The way you look at him. The way he looks at you. He’s a guy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about too many things or too many people. But I know he does give a shit about you. He cares about you. Even if he might have a shitty ass way of showing it.”
You glanced back over at Joel and then back at Ellie, confused.
“And you can deny it all you want. But if there’s one thing that stone cold asshole cares about, it’s definitely you,” Ellie stated firmly.
Your mouth fell open slightly, unsure what to say to her.
“What the hell are you two yappin’ about over there?” Joel called, looking over his shoulder.
“Nothing!” Ellie practically sang, causing him to roll his eyes and turn his attention back to his task.
“Well then, get off your asses and let’s get a fuckin’ move on. Ain’t got time to waste.”
6K notes · View notes
froggibus · 10 months
Text
Power Trip - Miguel O’Hara
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x f! Reader (reader uses female pronouns + has a pussy)
Genre: smut/NSFW
Word Count: 1.9k
Summary: Miguel comes to your universe seeking comfort, but gets the opposite when he sees you on a date
CW: kinda sorta maybe dubcon?, friends with benefits, dom! Miguel, sub! Reader, jealous! Miguel, possessiveness, fingering, oral (f! receiving), slight orgasm denial, begging, sub/dom dynamics, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it <3), creampie, Miguel is kind of an asshole
ive been incredibly down bad for this man lately so here is the result of my 2am thirst writing lol <3 also idkidk I just love the idea of fwb with Miguel and him being super possessive while also being noncommittal
————
It’s late by the time Miguel is back in your universe, but you’re nowhere to be seen in your studio apartment. He knows you were here recently, he can smell it. Smell your perfume lingering in the air. 
The sweet smell floods his senses and only adds to his annoyance. Where are you going this late at night, dressing up all nice and smelling so sweet? Who are you seeing?
The thought of you going on a date has the adrenaline pumping through his veins. You’re his. You should be with him. 
He pulls his mask back over his face and climbs out of your window, pulling out his phone. He opens up the app he installed on your phone to track you, narrowing his eyes when he sees the red dot pulsing at a bar. 
Because of course you’re at a bar. 
Miguel watches you from the shadows of the rooftop across the street. You’re all dressed up, sipping on a Manhattan while some loser chats you up. He can’t help but size the guy up—he could snap him like a twig with one arm. 
What the hell are you doing with a guy like that?
You can feel eyes on you, and not just from the guy in front of you talking about his crypto. No—you’re being watched. You can feel eyes burning into the back of your head, watching your every move. 
The feeling makes you tense, shoulders bunching up to your ears. You finish off your drink and start pulling your coat over your shoulders. 
Crypto guy looks at you in confusion. “Leaving so soon?”
“Yeah, I just, I need some air,” you say, and before he can protest anymore, you’re shoving your way onto the cold, crowded streets. 
Miguel doesn’t take his eyes off of you the whole time, silently trailing after you. He almost laughs at the way you look over your shoulder, trying to see if you’re being followed, but falling just short of seeing him. It’s adorable, really. 
As if he’d ever let anything happen to you. 
You set down your bag and jacket at your kitchen table, rolling your shoulders to loosen the tension. Something in the shadows catches your eye and you sigh. Of course. 
“You can come out now,” you sigh. 
Miguel steps out of the shadows, broad frame towering over you. His jaw is clenched and he looks unimpressed. 
“What are you doing here, Miguel?”
“Who was that at the bar?”
You sigh, leaning against your counter and rubbing your temples. “We’re not together, Miguel. You shouldn’t even be here.”
He steps closer to you, fists clenched at his sides. His dark eyes narrow on you, eyeing you from head to toe. “Answer the question.”
“Jesus—just some guy, okay? Why is it any of your business?”
You’re playing a dangerous game, like running across thin ice and expecting not to fall through. You avoid looking at him—you can feel the tension in the air. 
And then Miguel laughs. Really laughs. You stay perfectly still, clenching your hands on the counter. Heavy footsteps approach you until you can feel him standing behind you, hard breathing echoing in your ears. 
His hands grasp your hips, sharp nails digging into your sides. He tugs you back to him, holding your hips flush against his. “It’s always my business,” he growls. “You can pretend all you want, dear, but you will always be mine.”
His words have your breath catching in your throat, heat flooding your entire body. You squirm under his touch with no real intention of getting away, body fully submitting to him just from his touch. 
“See?” He rubs his hands up your sides, roughly cupping your chest and squeezing hard. “You like to play pretend and tease and run away, but you come back to me. Every. Single. Time.”
He squeezes again, hovering his lips over the base of your throat. A gasp falls from your lips. You can feel his fangs grazing your throat, sharp teeth brushing the sensitive skin. You close your eyes, bracing yourself on the counter in front of you. 
He pushes his hand under your shirt, cold fingers ghosting over your sensitive skin. You shiver from his touch, throwing your head back against his chest. His other hand snakes around your throat, holding you still so he can sink his fangs into your neck. 
The puncture stings as always, blood rushing to the sensitive vein he just bit into. Miguel manages to balance the pain with pleasure—rolling your nipples between his fingers, alternating between gently rubbing and harshly tugging at them. 
He moans at the taste of you, hot blood flooding his mouth. You’ve always tasted delectable, and he’s never been able to get enough. You shake in his arms, whimpering from the feeling. He can smell your arousal in the air, flooding his senses. 
He releases your neck and drops his hand from his shirt, lifting you up and tossing you onto the counter. He towers over you, broad form engulfing the kitchen light. He rips off your shirt, practically shredding the flimsy fabric to pieces. 
“M-miguel!” 
He rolls his eyes at your antics, pulling so the edge of your thighs rest on the counter. He pulls your pants off in one, swift motion, leaving you naked and shivering on the marble countertop. 
The smell of you only gets stronger, sending the blood rushing straight to his groin. You look so pretty like this, so weak. His for the taking—not that you’d ever protest. 
Sharp teeth graze the plush skin of your thighs as he plants kisses up to your heat. The feeling of his breath just above where you need him most has you arching your back, pushing your hips into his face. 
Miguel takes that in stride, wrapping his hands around your thighs to hold you in place and forcing you down to his mouth. The first touch of his tongue against your swollen clit has your eyes rolling back, pleas for more filling the air. 
You reach down to tug on his hair, dark curls falling through your fingers like silk. The feeling of you pulling on his hair and shoving your hips into his face only makes Miguel hungrier for you. He slips a finger inside of you, working you open. His fingers are so long and so thick, they stretch you open better than when you do it yourself. 
He pushes another finger inside of you, pulling his mouth away so he can watch your drooling hole open up around his knuckles. “As if any other man can make you feel like this,” he growls. 
He dives back into your pussy, burying his face between your legs. The added contact has your legs shaking, muscles quivering around his face. He slips one more finger in, reaching that spot that he knows drives you crazy. 
It only takes another second before you’re being thrown over the edge, crying out for more while trying to pull away from him. Miguel keeps a tight grip on your legs, holding you against his face while you ride out your orgasm. 
He pulls away, a twisted grin on his face. “Look at you,” he shakes his head, tugging off his pants to reveal his hard cock. 
He strokes it with one hand, using the other to trail up and down your shaking body. You’re looking at him with those needy, desperate eyes. It’s like you’re begging him to take you. 
He lands a slap to your pussy, laughing at the way you whine and try to close your legs around his hand. He spreads your legs apart, positioning himself between them so all you can do is wrap your legs around his hips. 
He shoves his way inside of you, your walls straining to take him after all this time. He’s so big, so much bigger than you, it’s a struggle. You close your eyes and whine, reaching desperately for his shoulders. For anything to ground yourself. 
Miguel settles into a steady pace, slamming his hips into yours, bottoming out with every thrust. He’s so deep inside of you, stretching out every part of you. 
With every thrust he admires the fucked out look on your face. Your whines and whimpers and pleas for him to keep going only drive him further, speeding up his pace just so he can keep hearing you whine like that. 
You claw at the skin of his back, each thrust pushing you farther across the counter before Miguel tugs you back to him and thrusts again. You slide your hands from his shoulder to his arms, gripping at the muscles of his forearms. 
His muscles flex with every thrust, tugging you even further against him. He watches how desperate you are, how badly you need to finish. He knows if he keeps up this pace, you won’t last long. 
So he stops, leaving just the tip of his cock inside of you. 
You whine in protest, opening your eyes to reveal tears starting to form. “W-why’d you stop?”
“Admit you’re mine,” he emphasizes his words with a thrust before holding still, “or you don’t get to cum again.”
“M-miguel, please,” you whine, looking up at him with those desperate eyes. 
He stares at you unimpressed, trying to resist the urge to keep going so he can finish too. But he won’t. Not until you say it. 
You try to thrust your hips against his but he holds you still, and he’s so much stronger than you that there’s no chance of moving. 
You sigh. You didn’t want to be put in this position again, but he’s so sexy and you’re so hot and wet and all you want is to cum, and his big cock is just sitting there inside of you. You clench around him, whining. 
“I-I’m all yours.” You whine, trying to pull him back to you, “only yours.”
He grins, immediately thrusting back into you. His pace is faster now, more frantic. Desperate. 
He wipes a few tears from your face, “isn’t it just so much easier when you submit to me? Don’t you love it when you don’t have to think about anything other than being my slut?”
His words make you drool and clench around him, wrapping your legs around his waist to force him deeper. Miguel gets the hint, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and fucking into you even harder. 
He’s so close, but he refuses to finish until you do. He leans in, leaving gentle bites up and down your neck and collarbone. The slight pain is enough to finish you off, your orgasm washing over you in intense waves. 
As soon as he feels your legs shaking, your muscles relaxing, Miguel knows he can let go. He pounds into you a few more times before bottoming out and letting wave after wave of cum flood your insides. 
The hot feeling has you moaning, lazily rolling your hips into his while he pumps his cum inside of you. Miguel pulls out, admiring the sight of you on the counter with his cum leaking out of you. 
He pulls on his clothes and leans in to kiss you. “This is how it should be,” he says. “You better be ready for me next time, no nonsense.”
“Yes, sir.”
He smirks at your submission. “Good girl,” he says, and disappears into the night. 
2K notes · View notes
darlingbabyboo · 8 months
Text
The Fluffy Life of Dating a Delinquent
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Tokyo revengers boys and the little things they do (that I want because I'm lonely lol)
Warning: extreme fluff, just Tokrev characters being in love with you
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Mikey is the type to buy snacks for you, no matter what. It doesn't matter what time of day it is, he's got some food for you too. He's calling you at 3am in the morning and telling you that he got you some chips, can he come over. He thinks sharing food is the best way to share love and well, he's right ❤
Izana will know everything about you. Your favourite colour, your favourite places to go, what you like to watch. Honey, he got you. You're his assignment and he's passing with an A+. He's the best person when you're sad because he knows exactly what to do. He can cheer you up in five minutes, tops.
Draken is so protective of you 😭. He knows he's well-liked and he's got an entire brothel, might as well take advantage of it. He wants to take care of you, and he knows you need boundaries and space sometimes but he lives a bit of a dangerous life, he needs to make sure you're taken care of. If someone actually got a scratch on your head he's killing them. No questions asked.
Hakkai didn't come from the best family. After the death of his mother, everything kinda fell apart. That's why he wants to start new traditions with you. Getting take out every Friday, matching accessories, whatever it is. He considers you family and he can't wait until you two pass down these traditions to your children.
Baji names cats after things related to you! Your favourite things to eat, do, whatever! Anything that's remotely related to you, that's the new name of the cat! Has given cats pet names that he usually uses for you, sometimes it's a bit confusing, but it's more so endearing.
You can say all you want about Kisaki but no one can say that this man isn't your biggest fan. You're the only one in his eyes but you're also the best. You got no competition but you're also destroying your competition with the twitch of your finger. Ain't it nice, to be someone's one and only 😆
Ran's ideal date is a sleep date. You two watching a movie on the computer, cuddled together under the blankets. He lasts half the movie but it's worth it because he has his hands on your waist and chin on your shoulder. He says he's not a cuddler but his grip on you is like iron, he will not let you move.
Mitsuya will fit you into his schedule no matter what. He's got two younger siblings and a Hakkai to take care of but he always has time for his baby. Yeah, he has three late assignments, five new outfits to make and grocery shopping to take care of, but please tell him about your day. Will take a break from what he's doing for his beautiful baby.
Might not look like it, but Benkei has the best hugs. You guys see him latting Shinichiro's head, now imagine those big strong hands wrapping around you. He's so warm and comforting, his hugs are meant for a higher power. Even if he's strong, he's incredibly careful around you. Big strong men being delicate for you despite their strength 🤤
Rindou makes mixtapes for you. You're always on his mind and when you're on his mind, he just makes a playlist for you. You and him probably share a Spotify account at this point with the amount of playlists dedicated to you. And they all have the same sappy titles 'to the Love of my Life'.
You ever see someone looking at their partner in the picture instead of at the camera. Yeah, that's Shinichiro. He knows that he was lucky to get you, and he's in awe that you still choose to be by his side. Now, the only time he smiling is because he's looking at yours 😁
Cooking together, the best and tastiest love language around. Fits that best boy, Angry has it! Will make your faves, and he HAS to learn food from your culture. He likes going on picnic dates because he can show off his skills to you, and he loves hearing your enjoyment (and you're the real winner with how delicious everything is). You two cook together. Though if you're one of those who are a mess in the kitchen, Angry's just happy to see you enjoy things he made. Pls praise him though, he won't say it but be revels in your praise. Your words are everything to him ❤.
Takemichi is loyal to the end. Don't worry about this boy lacking, he's here for you. He could be in a room of models but the only one he's got his eyes on is you. You're #1 to him 🥰
If you hate someone Chifuyu hates them even more. You say something bad about someone once, he despises them forever and wants to sell their soul to Satan. He will not forgive and he will not forget. He loves you and he will never get other people who don't feel the same.
Wakasa would quit smoking for you. The minute you cough around him, he's throwing his cigar away and replacing them with lollipops. No matter how much he might miss them, your lungs are more important 😙
Those things that you're obsessed with that no one else really cares about? Kakucho will erase those worries, easy. He doesn't mind your ramblings, encourages them. Will keep it all in his mind and remember them so he can participate deeper with things. Your interests are his interests hun!
Kazutora loves spontaneous dates so much. And he makes sure that you two go on them often. Wants to make sure that your relationship never weakens so he loves being around you, and the best way to be around you is doing your favourite things! He will sneak you out if need be so you two can have a picnic in the moonlight.
You need some support, good thing Sanzu offers it unconditionally. Going from things like you needing help on wash day to you needing to cover up a body, your bae's got your back. He might not enjoy doing everything, he's just a tad bratty, but no matter how loud he's complaining throughout, he still gonna do it!
Smiley will defend your honour! He hears some bitch talking about you, he won't let that slide. Blood will be spilled. Someone got something fun to say about your heavenly skin, he gonna kill someone. He's like Draken if Draken was an unhinged gremlin. He will beat someone up and then look at you with a smile on his face like, are you okay precious?
All your dreams of drowning in a strong man's clothes (that's a fantasy we all have, right?) are fulfilled with Mucho. He's so much taller than you (and if not, he's got muscles for days) so whenever you steal some of his clothes, you swim in them. It's a beautiful, comforting, amazing feeling.
Atsushi is the kind to learn how to braid just for you! He knows that going to a barber is expensive so he's got your back. He's doing goddess braids for you, cornrows, whatever you desire. And if you're not a braid person, well good thing he can learn how to!
Shion's pet names are ridiculous! Will call you baby cakes all the time and then start calling you pumpkin the next day. Is he doing this because he's stupid yes but he also likes to see your little smile. All he wants is your goofy little smile 😘
Takeomi is a planner, always, and you're always going to be part of his plans. When he's talking about the future, you're going to be part of it. It's so sweet how casual he is about it, you two will just be laying down in his bed holding hands and he'll be mentioning how good you'd look with a ring on your finger.
Hanma is secretly a romantic. He's an adrenaline junkie in the end though, so he spins things to an insane degree. Sneaking up a ferris wheel and kissing you under the moonlight, telling you to skip school so you guys can watch the sunrise and sunset, skinny dipping at the beach! If it's a bit too much, he gotchu. He's fine with both of you just hanging out on your bed or chilling in the bath. He's not your typical love interest, but he's surprisingly understanding and sweet 😍
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Can y'all tell how deprived I am 😭. Also, not proof read because I'm lazy!
3K notes · View notes
vivwritesfics · 1 month
Text
Set The World On Fire
Chapter Eight
Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.
He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger
Mafia AU
1.3K
Series Masterlist
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There wasn't much time for anything when they got back from the wedding. Lando drove her to her apartment and parked the car outside. "You coming up?" She asked as she ran her fingers through his hair.
Lando let out a breath and dropped his hands from the steering wheel. "I should go home," he muttered. "Make sure the old man hasn't croaked."
"Lan," she whispered, her head falling onto his shoulder. "Do you want me to come with you?"
He shook his head. "I'll take you to the house one day, but not today," he said.
She kissed his cheek. "Call me later, yeah?" She asked as she pushed open the door. Lando nodded his head, turning to watch as she grabbed her things out of the trunk. He waved through the window as she headed into the apartment.
Lando didn't wait to see if she'd come to the window. He drove off as soon as she went inside.
His drive to his house was silent. He hadn't felt like this since that night that Carlos had turned up in his kitchen. The night he had met her.
Lando parked his car on the grass and got out with little regard for the tyre marks he'd left on the lawn. He marched into the house and up the stairs.
"Lando!" Shouted Will, his right hand man, but Lando ignored it as he headed up to his fathers room.
The condition he had left his father in hadn't been a good one, but, when Lando walked into his room, he saw nothing more than a corpse. He hated that he was surprised when his father opened his eyes. "You look like shit," said Lando as he sat beside his bedside.
His father coughed. "Is it done?"
"Are you asking me if they're married?" He asked, his hands in his pockets as he leaned back.
"Yes."
Lando released a breath. "They're married, yeah," he said and his father let out a disgruntled noise. "What?" He asked and resisted the urge to kick the legs of the bed frame.
"If I had the chance, I would have married you off before you became the head of the family," he said.
Lando froze. If his father had married him off to someone, it would have been someone from another family. Like how his sister had been married off to Carlos, he would have been married off to Lance's sister, for example. (But this is a very bad example. Her father had allowed his children to find love on their own and get married in their own time).
"What if I've met someone?" He asked.
His father started laughing, but this soon led to coughing. He took a minute to clear his throat and looked at his son. "Does she know who you are? Does she know what you have done?" He asked, and Lando refused to answer. "It'll only get worse once you become head of the family," he said and laughed again.
When it turned into more coughing, Lando stormed out of the room. He stormed his way through the house, past his sisters room, which remained untouched, and into his office.
Lando was given two minutes of solitude. There were papers on his desk, but he didn't look through them. Not yet, anyway. Instead he pulled out his phone.
There hadn't been many opportunities for photographs in Spain, but she had found them. She had set his phone up against the window as they stood on the balcony, using the timer to get a picture of them with the sunset behind. There were pictures Lando didn't know she had taken, with half of her face visible as she grinned at the camera, him sleeping behind her.
How could he ever admit to who he was, what he had done?
There was a knock on his office door. "Come in," Lando called as he locked his phone and slipped it into his pocket.
Will Joseph walked into the office, a stack of papers in his arms. He threw them down with the papers Lando already had to go through and sat opposite him. There was a beat of silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable.
Will spoke first. "Can I say something slightly out of sorts?" He asked and Lando nodded his head. He needed something out of sorts at that moment. "Your dad pulled me into his room," Will said. Still, Lando was nodding, but there was no meaning behind it. "He wants all of the responsibilities of the head of a family to be pushed onto you."
It wasn't a surprise to Lando, especially after the meeting he just had.
"Lando, I think he knows he's in his final few days."
That night, after going through just under half of the paperwork, Lando called her. He sat in his bed, his shirt unbuttoned but still on his body as he pressed his phone to his ear. They spoke for hours, until they both fell asleep with the call still going.
It was a better habit then calling up Max (Fewtrell) and dragging him to the club and drowning their sorrows.
It really was only a few days until his father passed away. Lando hated himself, but only because he didn't feel anything but dread. And that dread was because he had to call the Sainz family, so that he could let his sister know.
He didn't tell Y/N, didn't want her at the funeral. If he needed her support he would have asked for it. But he didn't want her around members of the Norris family, or members of other families, didn't want to put her at risk again.
The funeral was a bleak affair. Max (Fewtrell) had insisted on joining Lando at the funeral, being his support system. But Lando didn't need support for the funeral. He needed support when he became Norris, though.
Becoming the head of the family wasn't something that Lando wanted. For days he couldn't see Y/N, too buried beneath paperwork. He thought he had gotten through all of it before his fathers death, but Will just dumped more and more onto his desk.
He missed her. He really fucking missed. His texts to her were few and far between, but she didn't complain, didn't tell him she couldn't do this anymore.
After a week of sorting through paperwork his father had left for him, Lando was ready to put a bullet between his eyes. Instead, he pulled out his phone and sent her one quick text.
Landino 💗💗 Get dressed into something comfy, I'll be there in half an hour
He left his paper on his desk and got changed out of his suit. Instead he wore a black hoodie and sweats as he left the house, got into his car and drove to her apartment.
He parked up and looked towards her window. She had been waiting, looking out for his car. As soon as she saw it she pushed away from the window and left the apartment, making her way out to him. Lando watched as she crossed the street and climbed into the car.
She really had dressed comfy. In tartan pyjama pants and a thick, fluffy hoodie, she climbed into the passenger seat of the car and leaned over the centre console to kiss him. "Hi," she said as she sat back.
Lando grinned and began driving away. "I missed you," he said. His moments of vulnerability were rare, but he'd had plenty with her already. "Work has gotten kind of crazy lately."
"It's okay, I get it," she replied. He spared one glance at her to see her toe off her shoes and placed her feet on the edge of the seat.
That pulled a smile from his face, the fact that she was that comfortable with him already. "Where are we headed?" She asked as he turned left.
Lando sucked in a breath. "My mum's place."
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ode2rin · 9 months
Text
if his tendency to spend all of his money on you (not that any purchase could make a dent in his massive empire) wasn't annoying enough, reo had developed another endearing yet infuriating habit—one that left you torn between feeling adored and wanting to throw the nearest pillow at his face.
said man is currently in the kitchen with you, attempting (albeit with some struggle) to be useful by following your every move. tired of his constant hovering, you assigned him a simple task to keep him busy: taking out the groceries from the paper bags.
here came his habit again. the first time he did it, you brushed it off, assuming he hadn't heard you well due to the distance. the second time, you noticed his subtle perks and pouts. now, for the third time, you were determined to catch him.
“reo…” from where you’re standing, you could see how he perks up at your call, “can you pass me the apple?”
silence. 
you’re right. you tried again, just to be sure.
“reo.”
another beat of silence. this one followed by an affectionate sigh and a wry smile on your face.
“love, can you pass me the —”
“here.” 
almost instantly, reo materialized beside you, a beaming smile adorning his face, looking at you like his gaze meant to say, ‘yes. i am love, that’s me.’ he extended the requested fruit with a graceful motion, his fingers gentle as he offered it to you.
this man, really. “so, you can hear me properly after all, huh?”
“yeah? my hearing is fine.” 
“oh, is it? i couldn’t tell because i called you twice, and you weren’t responding. why is that?” you teased, a fond smile gracing your lips as you start slicing the apple you washed.
he pouts, his go-to theatrical gesture that's hard to ignore. “you know why,” he mumbles.
of course, you do. you had used that endearment once, and now, suddenly he insists on being called by nothing else. it had been a slip of your tongue, a phrase that felt like it was custom-made for him and him alone. looking at how his smile nearly outshines the sun when you address him as such, you can't help but consider that maybe love—both the word and the emotion it embodies—is all about him, for you.
you love that smile more than anything, so if it means a simple endearment could paint it on his face, you're happy to oblige. well, not without a few playful teases first.
“what if i’m on the brink of danger — like a crocodile is chasing me, and i’m about to die, and i call out your name like ‘reo!’ are you still going to ignore me? because i didn't call you love?” you turn to face reo briefly, then return to your task of slicing apples, the motion fluid and familiar. 
it's always been the scene – you doing kitchen work and him watching you, because your boyfriend is a little helpless when it comes to knives, pans, and a stove. or in simpler words, anything to do with what a kitchen is for.
“first of all, that's an incredible imagination and such a realistic situation, given that we live in a city far from any vicinity of swamps, marshlands, brackish waters, and wherever the hell crocodiles live,” reo counters, his voice amused and suddenly defensive. 
as he was about to start explaining his second point, you interrupt by placing a sliced apple into his mouth, a light-hearted gesture of “shush” as you hear him out.
but reo is not reo if not stubborn, so even with a muffled voice, he continues. “second, is that what you think of me? you know i will come flying to you!” now, that’s an honest and valid point.
“and lastly, you call everyone a cute pet name. last week, you called a kid sweetie. yesterday, you called a stray cat darling and lovely. then you’re here calling me reo? just reo?” his tone is laced with disbelief, his volume slightly lowered, revealing a hint of embarrassment at his little rant.
a chuckle escapes you as he concludes his argument, prompting you to turn around and draw closer, your arms finding their place around his neck, while his arms encircle you instinctively, holding you close against him.
“reo is my favorite word, though. it’s too bad that you don’t like it.” you murmured.
reo knows what you’re doing. “you’re distracting me.”
“is it working?”
of course, it does. reo isn’t just helpless in the kitchen, but he is a much worse case of helplessness when faced with your warm gaze and soft charms.
he nodded in affirmation, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your back, “have i told you i love you?” he asks, swiftly changing the matter.
“only everyday, love.”
reo began again, ever stubborn and persistent, always eager to prove his point. “that’s not enough. i think i should do it every hour—”
“i love you.”
another beat of silence, again, for the third time. 
if it wasn't evident before, it's undeniable now – reo is really helplessly in love with you. such testament to that is him now gaping and at a loss of words for your sudden declaration.
reo needs you to go back to your usual teasing self; your affectionate version might just give him a heart attack.
smiling to yourself because you caught him off guard, you took your chance. “now, go there and sit. as much as i love having you around, you are an awful cook, let alone an assistant.” you gently pushed his chest, guiding him toward the couch.
“that's not how you speak to your loved one, though.” he mumbled in response, seemingly recovered from your sudden i love you that almost knocked the air out of him.
“are you saying something?”
“i said, off the couch i go.”
you shook your head, a fond smile gracing your lips as you watched him, before heading back to the kitchen to prepare dinner.
your loved one, huh? that’s him, definitely. 
reo and love, to you, it’s the same thing.
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note. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LOVER (i swear i planned something better pls forgive me) i'm late i know but it's still august 12 here :P i don't know what this is but pls take it away from me. reo i love you i love you i love—
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